The second sex offender therapist we met with was a man. We had to drive to Austin to meet with him. I was really scared. The first lady pretty much told Dennis she thought he was guilty. I was beginning to have doubts. After seeing her, I was a basket case. I was mad at Dennis, mad at her and mad at everything. I was also wrung out. Dennis went home and took a sleeping pill. I was pregnant. I didn't have that luxury.
The second therapist was a complete polar opposite from the first one. This guy was kind and smart and funny. He spoke with Dennis and with me extensively and pretty much assured me that Dennis was a victim here. I cried. The relief and the weight of the worry, the pregnancy all of it just washed over me and I cried and cried and cried. It wasn't the loud sobbing kind of crying, it was the soundless wet runny nose running crying. I couldn't stop. All the way back to Dallas I cried.
That night, I think I slept better than I had since before I met Dennis. It finally seemed things would be all right.
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