(Winona)Dr. Barnaby Greyson, M.D., Ph.D.Consultant Psychiatrist and PsychoanalystGuiding the Minds Behind the HeadlinesI hover outside his office door, reading the name over and over. This is it. My nerves are toast. My hands clammy and my heart rate like a racehorse who just finished a steeplechase.I look at Jayden beside me and he looks exactly like I feel.His eyes meet mine. “We got this.”I nod. “We got this.”We step inside together and a receptionist asks us to take a seat after she takes our names.We both sit in silence. I’m sure the clock on the wall is on high volume as the seconds tick over.Then out he steps. He’s younger than I imagined. Not even any gray kissing his hair. I’m not sure he’s much older than us. Maybe he has a good hair colorist and does Botox or something.He nods at us, peering over his glasses like he is actually one hundred years old. This is weird.We stood up and walked into his room. “Take a seat,” he says as he sits in his huge leather office
(Winona)Barnaby pauses, then leans forward slightly. “Jayden, you mentioned anger. Can you tell me more about that? What is it that makes you angry?”Jayden’s words come out, slow and measured. “I’m angry because I feel like I’ve been lied to, manipulated. I feel like I’ve lost control of my own life, and I don’t know how to get it back. I don’t know if I ever had it.”Dr. Greyson turns to me. “Winona, what about you? What are you feeling?”I hesitate, not wanting to say too much, not wanting to open the floodgates. But I know I have to, if this is going to work. “I’m scared,” I admit. I look at Jayden and then back at Barnaby. “I’m scared that no matter what we do, it’s not going to be enough. Maybe we were way too broken before we even started.”The room falls silent again. I can feel Jayden’s eyes on me, but I don’t look back at him.“It’s clear that you both have a lot of pain and fear that you’re carrying. But the fact that you’re here, that you’re willing to talk about it, is
(Jayden)“Imagine being told by my best friend that you now loved Ashlyn and had no memory of me.” Winona’s voice is steady, but the hurt behind it is unmistakable. She continues, “I was heartbroken. All I wanted was to get through rehabilitation as fast as possible and come find you. I was sure once you saw me, you’d remember what we had.”I listen to her words. There’s no avoiding the pain she’s laying out in front of me.“Jayden, remember this isn’t about blame,” Barnaby’s voice cuts in, calm and firm. “This is Winona expressing her truth. Just hear her. No excuses. No defensiveness. Just listen.”I nod, silencing the instinct to defend myself.“You never cared about my side of things,” Winona continues. “Not once. You never gave me the benefit of the doubt. You just accepted what they told you, even when I tried to help you remember.”“Okay, let’s—” Barnaby starts but Winona keeps going.“You made love to me the night I conceived Abby.” Her voice tightens. “I thought I’d finally
(Winona)The penthouse feels more like a sanctuary today than it has in months. Abby’s laughter echoes through the spacious living room as she chases a bouncing ball, her small feet thumping against the hardwood floors. The sound of her joy is a balm to my frayed nerves, still tender from yesterday’s therapy session with Barnaby.Jayden and I are at the kitchen island, laptops open, papers strewn about as we try to coordinate our schedules. With Judy gone and Abby starting preschool full-time, our days are suddenly our own, but also more complicated with finding a work-life balance. We’re drafting a family calendar—work meetings, Abby’s school events, therapy sessions. It’s mundane, yet feels like a significant step forward.“Okay, so I’ll drop her off at school on Mondays and Wednesdays, and you pick her up?” Jayden asks, pointing to the digital calendar.“Sounds good. And I can take Tuesdays and Thursdays,” I confirm, making the entries. “Fridays we can alternate or go together, d
(Winona)I’m sitting at a wooden park table, my fingers tracing the rough surface, trying to focus on anything but the dread pooling in my stomach.The park is beautiful today—families laughing, kids playing by the stream, and ducks floating lazily in the clear water. It’s the kind of day that should bring peace, but instead, my frayed nerves barely hold me together.Gordon had assured me that Steve would find me and to just sit somewhere amongst other people. Gordon is here as well. I can’t see him but I know he is. Knowing that quells the gnawing anxiety.My phone is recording, hidden in my pocket, ready to capture every word of this twisted reunion. I brace myself for what I know will be an ugly encounter.The wind rustles through the trees, and I catch sight of him walking toward me. He’s thinner but well dressed and that same smug smirk twists his lips. His presence is a shadow, darkening the brightness of the day.“Well, well,” Steve says as he approaches, his voice laced with c
(Winona)The words hit me. Is he just playing mind games? A sibling? My mind reels, trying to process what he’s saying. “My mother… She had another child? To you?”“Yeah, a year after you left,” he says, almost gleefully. “I was done raising kids by then and done with supplying her drug habit, no one wanted to pay for her services anymore.”I stare at him. What a monster.“Yeah, surprised your mother was a whore, are ya?” He grins. “She wasn’t even good at that. Crying every time. Men want some fire, some passion.”I didn’t ever think my heart could break any harder than it already had over the years. But it did. The sudden realization that I was just too young to realize. He was the reason my mother had a drug habit. He kept her that way so he could pimp her out.If I could ever kill anyone with no regrets, it’s this person in front of me now.“One kid was bad enough, and I wasn’t about to waste the rest of my life on another. So, I left. Don’t know what happened to them, and I don’t
(Winona)“I know we have our list, Jayden, but I have something else I need to talk about in our safe space today.”Jayden looks surprised but he nods. “Of course.”Barnaby leans back in his chair, glancing between us. “Winona, it sounds like there's something significant you need to share with Jayden. Let’s start.”I take a deep breath, my heart pounding. I look at Jayden, his eyes are filled with worry. “I met with Steve,” I say, my voice steady, but I can feel the tension coiled in my stomach. “Steve Halley. My fath…my sperm donor. That creature is barely human let alone a father.”Jayden’s eyes widen, and his face pales. “You what? Winona, are you serious? That man is dangerous.”“I know,” I say quickly. “Which is why I had Gordon with me, hidden from Steve. I wasn’t stupid about it, Jayden.”“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you let me go with you?” His voice is tight, barely controlled. I can see the hurt and the fear mixing in his expression, and it tears at me.“I didn’t wa
(Jayden)The thought of listening to Winona interact with Steve makes my skin crawl, but I know we need to do this. We need to face it together.Barnaby nods at Winona, who pulls out her phone. “Whenever you’re ready,” he says calmly. “Winona, you stop the recording whenever you feel Jayden’s anger or you feel overwhelmed and need a break. You’re in control.”Winona presses play, and Steve’s voice crackles through the speakers.It’s harsher than I remember, filled with that familiar venom. The same voice that’s haunted Winona her entire life, and now it’s seeping into my consciousness.Steve starts with his usual bullshit—taunting, throwing out his twisted version of reality. I glance at Winona, but she’s staring straight ahead, her face a mask of calm. I know her too well to think she’s unaffected. She’s just holding it together. To be honest, so am I.“...You’re lucky I took care of you, protected you,” Steve sneers. “I could’ve made a lot more money off you—”Winona pauses the reco