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“You want to talk about it,” Belle said as Trista sat silently across from her staring out the window.
She didn’t even know where to start and partly worried that once she got going, she would lose it. She had been here in Little Bend, and also meeting with Belle for the last thirty days to try to work through issues. Last night though, the desire to run that always found her had reared up in the middle of a gathering at Greyson’s house. She had to physically restrain herself from getting up and walking away for good. She had spent years doing just that, tearing down every relationship and possibility for her future. This was her second chance; and yet with all the progress, she still felt she may never be free of the ghosts that haunted her paths.
“I just don’t know where to start,” she mumbled, absently staring out over the fields beyond the office. It was so peaceful here; it felt like a magical place. If there was ever a time or location that might heal her, this was it. That was truth; she was sure. It was the actions needed to mend her heart and psyche she couldn’t execute.
“I thought you were having a great time last night,” Belle prodded, “but then everything changed. You became distant, and honestly, at one point, I thought you would run from the house.”
“I considered it,” she said, inhaling but never meeting Belle’s eyes.
“If you felt like we pressured you into meeting Hunter, or you just don’t want a relationship, I promise we will understand.”
“It’s not that, he is amazing,” she said as a tear lobbed itself over her lower eyelid. She angrily swiped it away. “He is truly amazing. Every time you have him to a party, I like him more. I’m worried he might consider asking me out on a one-on-one date.”
“And that would be a terrible thing? How long has it been since you dated?”
Trista’s shoulders slumped. How could she tell Belle that she had never been in a relationship? Sure, she had men around for stress relievers and the occasional distraction, but no one that ever stuck around for exceptionally long relationships. Hunter was a good friend of Ray’s; they both worked at the Sheriff’s department. He was a good-looking, well-built, sweet, down-to-earth man, in whom she was definitely interested. This, she was sure of, based on the amount of time he spent with her at each gathering with friends. She simply couldn’t find one unpleasant thing about the man. He was kind, served his community with loyalty and honesty, answered all her questions, and was genuinely liked by everyone who met him. He didn’t need the kind of baggage she carried around.
“I have had nothing close to a relationship in my adult life,” she finally said as her shoulder slumped. She turned toward Belle, trying to hold her quivering lip in check by biting down on it. “I push men away, even harder than my brother and momma, if you can believe that based on my history.”
Belle nodded. She was the least judgmental human Trista had ever encountered. She took it all in, offered sage advice along the way, and somehow had the most calming personality of anyone Trista had met in all her crazy travels.
“Did you live in the same place when you were away from your family? Have any special friends?” Belle asked softly.
Trista shook her head, “Nope. Every year or two, I would uproot and keep moving. I saw most of this big old country, but don’t have a single person from all of that whom I still keep in contact with.”
“Can you tell me why?”
She shook her head. “After–what happened, I’ve never wanted ever to feel that way again. I just made sure I didn’t,” she said, with a shrug as a fresh round of tears stained her face.
“Trista, when was the last time you told someone about your sister,” Belle even asked quieter than her last question. The words sliced through Trista as if she had reached out and physically assaulted her body. The constricted muscles, painful heart-thumping, goosebumps all came to the surface.
“I can’t even say her name,” she said, exhaling around the heaving sobs emanating from her chest.
“Ah, so was it the gathering last night, or Phoebe and Emma’s coming in?”
Trista bit down on her lip to try to hold the convulsive sobs in but failed. “They are so cute, and just like we were at that age. Inseparable, finishing each other sentences and seeing them, I just miss her even more. I didn’t think that was possible.”
Belle sat quietly and let her work through some of the toughest emotional releases before she interjected, “I need you to say her name,” Belle coaxed.
Trista inhaled, as she rubbed her nose. She moved her neck from side to side, cracking the uncomfortable kinks. Lowering her head, she inhaled, “Treena,” she whispered. She made a circle with her mouth and exhaled hard. “Her name was Treena, and she was my twin sister. I couldn’t save her, and even now, I replay that moment every day.”
“Trista, you loved your sister, and I bet she knew that, but sometimes depression is such a debilitating disease that sneaks up on even those of us who are closest to a person. This was not your fault, or anything you could have stopped,” Belle said firmly.
Trista felt the heaving continue, wracking her body.
“Tell me what you loved most about her,” Belle said as she held a Kleenex box out to Trista.
“There was nothing she wouldn’t try. She was fearless. Unfortunately, I normally followed right behind her. Our poor mother definitely had her hands full with us,” she said with a deep chuckle as the tears lightened a bit.
“I would have loved to meet her,” Belle said. “If she was anything like you, I’m certain she would have been someone I would have enjoyed getting to know.”
Trista smiled through the pain, “thank you.”
“Oh, this is just the first hard step; you might not want to thank me yet.”
“Hey, it only took you thirty days, and nine appointments to do what no one else has managed,” Trista said. “I think I will owe you big time for this.”
“It’s what I do,” Belle said, leaning back slightly more relaxed. “Tell me something further about Treena.”
