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Biting my cheek, I consider how to tell him without hurting his feelings, without making him think I wasn’t grateful for his effort.

He beats me to the punch. “You didn’t enjoy the picnic, did you?”

With a grim smile, I shake my head. “No.”

“But I thought it was helping for a while. Before, you know . . .” He trails off briefly, then adds, “It seemed like you were smiling a little bit.”

I admit, “I was faking it. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t appreciate you. Because you were so sweet and so concerned about me.”

“Did you want me to leave you alone?” Adrian asks.

“No!” I exclaim, then pull back the enthusiasm. “I . . .” The words stick in my throat, refusing to budge.

Adrian angles fully toward me, taking both of my hands in his. As though Amber wasn’t even in the room with us, he leans his forehead against mine and murmurs, “Please tell me, cielo. What did you need from me?”

“I needed you to sit in the dark with me,” I confess. “I’ve tried so many different things over so many years of August twelfths. But nothing has ever worked to distract me from the memories my body still holds inside. I have to curl up in the darkness and survive the day. And then it gets better. But I . . .” I blink away tears before adding, “I would have liked you to sit with me through it. For just a little bit. I know you had a game and we couldn’t have spent all day together. But for an hour. Even a few minutes, to have you hold me in the darkness.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t do that,” he whispers, his eyes pained.

I tip my head up to kiss his cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to.”

Just when I’m about to kiss him for real, I remember that we’re in Amber’s office. She’s smiling at us as I turn back to her.

“I don’t specialize in couples counseling, so I’m making this comment as an individual, not in my capacity as a therapist,” she says. “But I think you two are going to be good for each other. If you learn to communicate honestly, I think you’ll both find a lot of healing in your relationship.”

Smiling at Amber, I lean my head against Adrian’s shoulder, interlacing my fingers through his.

“What’s our homework?” I ask.

“What?” Adrian asks. I can hear in his tone that he’s about to inject some levity into the atmosphere. “What’s this about homework? I entered the MLB so I could avoid school.”

Laughing, I tell him, “It might be something big, might be something small, but Amber always gave me something to focus on at the end of a session. I called it homework since I started coming here when I was a teenager.”

Amber smiles at the memory. “Well, you’re right. I do have a couple of things for you to focus on.” She turns her gaze to Adrian. “I would advise you to consider finding a therapist in Kansas City to process through the loss of your mother and the coping mechanisms you picked up. I think it would do you a lot of good, regardless of your relationship. But because you are in a relationship with Samantha, you’re going to need to grow in your comfort level of sitting with sadness. Because it’s a reality of Samantha’s life, whether any of us like it or not.”

My heart drops, the corners of my mouth following. I hate being the anchor weighing him down. Before I can say anything, Adrian kisses my forehead. “You heard her. It will do me a lot of good. It’s something I need to face anyway. But I’m willing to face anything for you, cielo. Don’t feel guilty about it.”

Sighing, I look back to Amber as she says, “Samantha, your mother is right.”

A laugh bursts out. “She paid you to say that, didn’t she?”

Amber’s smile turns serious. “You do need to grow in communicating your needs, which means getting better at identifying them for yourself. When Adrian asks what you need, don’t play it off or try to make him happy by saying what you think he wants. Communicate.”

“Yes,” Adrian agrees, nodding his head vigorously. “Please be honest with me. I can take it. I want to know.”

“Samantha,” Amber says, that tone in her voice. “That starts with you telling Adrian the things that trigger your trauma responses.” I cringe. Amber continues, “I know you know them. We’ve talked about it. You need to give Adrian the information that could prevent escalation from ever happening.”

Reading the reluctance in my body language, Adrian looks at me with confusion. “Why wouldn’t you want to tell me that?”

“Because it’s embarrassing. I’m a grown woman. You shouldn’t have to baby me.”

“I want to love you, Samantha,” Adrian says. “It’s not babying you. Let me understand how to love you.”

Sighing, I nod. “We’ll talk about it.”

“One more thing, Samantha,” Amber says. “While it’s important for you to get better at communicating how Adrian can love you, it’s also important for you to trust that he does love you, even without constant reassurance.”

Adrian raises a hand. “I’m absolutely okay constantly reassuring her that I love her.”