Sheridan unlocked the door to the apartment and flew into Luis's arms.
"Sher, are you okay?"
Sheridan sobbed against Luis's chest.
Luis rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head. "It's okay, Sher. Just get it all out. Just tell me what happened."
"I . . . I'm fine, Luis," Sheridan cried. "My session with Dr. Williams was just very emotional. It was such a relief to get all of these feelings off my chest. I don't know what it was, but I just instantly felt safe with her."
Luis squeezed Sheridan against his chest. "That's great, Sheridan."
"She was so supportive, Luis, and so patient with me." Sheridan looked up at her husband, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "She told me what my father had done to me was monstrous and that I deserved time to grieve."
"Of course you do, Sher." Luis leaned back and looked into her eyes. "No one expects you to just pick up your life and move on. What your bastard father has been doing to you for all of these years . . . you need time to work through it."
"Sometimes I feel like it shouldn't affect me, Luis . . . that I should be able to get through it."
"Sher . . ."
"No, Luis, it's okay," Sheridan said. "You don't have to talk me through this. Part of what Dr. Williams is going to work on with me is how to love and parent myself."
"How to parent yourself?" Luis raised one brow. "Sheridan, I'm confused . . ."
"She was talking about how to parent the little girl still inside of me—the part of me that feels alone and scared. She's going to teach me how to help that little girl realize that she's not worthless—that she deserves to be loved." Sheridan hung her head. "Dr. Wiliams said if I can learn to do that, I also can learn how to love and value myself as the adult I am today."
Luis smiled softly and lifted Sheridan's chin. "That's all I want for you, Sheridan—for you to be able to love yourself."
"I think we scored the better job," Hank laughed as he looked up from the sports equipment he and Gwen were sorting to find Sheridan sweeping the floor of the youth center's gym. "Luis has always made a point of making Sheridan sweep the floor. It's nice to know that nothing has changed."
Gwen smiled and rolled her eyes. "I think she volunteered for it this time, Hank. Besides, Luis promised to work on it with her."
"Yeah, if that's what you call working," Hank chuckled.
Gwen looked up just in time to see Luis walk up behind Sheridan, slip his arms around her waist, and press a kiss to her shoulder.
Sheridan turned around and smiled softly at her husband.
Hank grinned. "Hey, Luis, I thought you're supposed to be in tyrannical boss mode."
Luis turned to Hank, a smile on his face. "I just looked at some of the preliminary plans you and Sheridan have come up with, Hank. They look really good."
Hank smiled, his chest welling with pride. Gwen squeezed his shoulder and kissed his cheek.
Across the room, Luis turned back to Sheridan and stroked her cheek. "I know I have my reservations about you working here right now, Sher, but I meant what I said: I'm really impressed with the ideas you and Hank have come up with."
Sheridan blushed and shrugged. "They're just some initial thoughts."
"Well, they're great ones," Luis smiled.
Hank bounded up behind him and skidded to a stop. "Hey, Luis, what do you say we take a break and play a little one on one?"
"Hank, we have work to do," Luis protested.
Hank smirked. "There's the taskmaster we all know and love." Hank turned back to Gwen. "I knew he was in there somewhere."
Luis picked up a basketball and thrust it at Hank's stomach. "Fine, have it your way," he laughed. "But if you lose, you're in charge of cleaning the toilets."
Hank grinned. "I hope you have your rubber gloves ready—the locker rooms are going to be all yours."
Sheridan smiled, shook her head, and put down the broom. "I'm just going to put away some stuff in the office, and then I'll be right back here to sweep."
Luis grinned at her. "Don't worry about it, Sher. I'll take care of sweeping the gym—right after I mop the floor with Hank."
Sheridan froze when she noticed the report on Luis's desk: the doctors' assessment of Martin's condition—and his physical therapy plan.
Sinking down to the floor, she closed the door next to her and buried her head in her hands.
Would Martin ever walk again? Would she ever be rid of this guilt?
After all, no matter how much everyone else denied it, she had caused this mess, hadn't she?
She was the reason Martin was paralyzed.
No, she couldn't think this way. She had to stop thinking this way. She had to stop berating herself.
Sheridan grabbed her purse from the chair next to her and dug out the picture Dr. Williams had asked her to carry around.
Herself as a little girl. Her as an innocent child. Her before she was to blame for anything—before anything horrible had happened in her life.
Sheridan swallowed a lump in her throat, tears springing to her eyes. The little girl in the picture was as innocent and lovable as the one inside her body right now.
Her lips quivering, Sheridan glanced down at her belly, her tears falling onto her sweater.
"It's not her fault," Sheridan whispered, caressing her abdomen. "She's as innocent as you are."
Tears streaming down her cheeks, Sheridan refocused on the picture of herself as a little girl. "It's not your fault, Sheridan."
Gwen looked up as the office door closed. Something was definitely wrong. Sheridan was usually never this private. What was going on with her?
"You know why she's been upset lately," Gwen chided herself. "Her monster of a father tried to kill her—that's enough to set anyone off."
Still, there was something else going on here. Maybe Sheridan was still blaming herself for Martin's accident.
She definitely knew a thing or two about self-blame. Between the whole tabloid fiasco and sending her own mother to jail, it was nothing if not her theme song.
Gwen looked over at Luis at the same time he looked at her.
"Luis, do you mind if I try first?" Gwen fixed her eyes on the office door. "I promise I'll come get you if she needs you—I just really want to talk to her."
"It's not your fault," Sheridan said to the little girl in the photograph she was holding. "You've never been anything but a kind and compassionate person. You would never do anything to hurt anyone on purpose—no matter what your father says."
"Sheridan?" Gwen poked her head into the office. "Sheridan, are you okay?"
Sheridan's eyes remained fixed on the picture.
Gwen slipped into the office and closed the door behind her.
"Sheridan?" Gwen sat down next to her. "Is that a picture of you as a little girl?"
Sheridan nodded, tears streaming down her face.
Gwen smiled softly and took the picture from her friend. "You certainly look happy here."
"I am. I mean—I was." Sheridan wiped some tears from her eyes. "This was taken before my mother died—before everything started going wrong in my life. Dr. Williams thinks that if I can connect with this little girl, then I can love the adult version of myself."
Gwen furrowed her brow. "I don't understand."
Sheridan fingered the edge of the picture. "She wants me to learn to parent this girl—to learn to parent myself."
Sheridan took the photograph back from Gwen. "Basically, she wants me to talk to myself like I would talk to this little girl. To think about what I would say to her if she came to me with the doubts and fears I have now."
"So you can figure out how to comfort yourself?" Gwen asked.
"Yes," Sheridan said softly. "That's exactly what she's going for, Gwen."
Gwen smiled at Sheridan and squeezed her friend's hand. "I've never heard of that technique before," she admitted, "but it sounds like it's an excellent place to start."
