Together, we sifted through several recommendations sent over from not only Luke but ones provided by Dr. Shepherd as well. Tom had a great idea to see if there were any crossovers from the lists which narrowed it down considerably. That gave us 4 names to continue looking at to see if one stood out among the others.

"Oh, this one went to Oxford. She's obviously out," he said as he tossed that one off to the side.

"Oi! Just because you're a Cambridge boy doesn't mean you get to be a snob about this. It says right here that she's had massive success helping people in my position, is highly rated, and even does house calls in some circumstances."

Tom put on a pouty face which fell away quickly. "You're right, dear. I shouldn't let my school rivalry get in the way of your recovery." Placing a quick kiss to my temple, he moved on to another candidate.

"You know what, I think I quite like the idea of a female therapist. Just something about it feels safer, easier."

"I say we go with your gut. The therapist will be helping you more than anything, and we want to make sure you're comfortable." Tom looked through the candidates and removed the men, leaving only two, the lady with the Oxford credentials and another one we hadn't had a chance to look at. Picking up the info sheets, something about her felt right. She has an office and uses it for those who prefer a professional setting but also meets at people's homes and alternate locations as needed for appointments with trauma and recovery, works pro-bono with battered women's shelters, fantastic feedback from past patients, and a degree from.......

"Look, love. She went to Cambridge!"

Pursing my lips, I wanted to select the other therapist just to spite him, but my intuition said this person was the one for me; however, nothing said I couldn't mess with him first.

"I don't know, hon. I hear Cambridge is kind of chancy with things like this. Finding you was one in a million, and I feel incredibly lucky, but I don't think lightning strikes twice. Maybe we should go with Oxford? They are listed as one of the top programs for psychology."

The look of shock on his face was priceless. How dare anyone insult his alma mater! I let him stew for a moment before dissolving into laughter. "I'm just messing with you, love! Cambridge here actually feels like the better fit. I can't really explain it, but she's the one. Oxford has all the right credentials as well, but there's just something about Cambridge."

Pulling out his phone, Tom looked at the info sheet for the number. "Would you like me to go ahead and schedule an appointment? Or we can wait if you'd like to think about it?"

"Probably better to go ahead and schedule rather than put it off."

"Let's do it." Inputting the number, he called. It rang two or three times before someone picked up. "Good afternoon! Yes, my wife and I would like to make an appointment with Dr. Natalie Bertram, please."

Gripping his hand, I listened in as he answered their questions. "That would be perfect. Thank you very much." Hanging up the phone, he turned to me. "They had a cancellation and have an opening in 2 days in the afternoon. She'll meet us here at the house for the initial visit and then take it from there. Her office will be emailing us the paperwork shortly to fill out and send back to them which I can take care of if you'd like?"

"I can help with the paperwork. You've done so much already."

"I am beyond happy to help and take care of you. We're a team, partners. How about we tag team it then?"

"Sounds great!"

Sure enough, the paperwork came in about 20 minutes later. With both of us working on it, it took roughly an hour to get it all filled out and sent back. While he worked on the standard insurance forms, I started on the mental health and history questionnaires. Once he finished the insurance forms, we worked on the questionnaires together. By the time we finished, we were both famished and ordered Chinese take away.

The following morning, Tom called a company Luke recommended to him about coming to fix the garden fencing. It was pure luck that they had someone nearby who had some time between projects and arrived roughly thirty minutes later. He introduced himself as Keith and took a look at the back fencing Tom showed him as well as the other sections of the fencing and the side gate.

"Fixing those parts of the fence by the gate you showed me is definitely not a problem. We can have someone over early next week."

With that all set up, we looked at options to have a dog door installed, whether to have one built into the wall or simply have one placed into the sliding glass door.

"Well, that seems like an easy one. It seems to be better to have one placed into the door. Plus they have all sorts of techy ones so that only Bobbers can get in and out and none of those strays that like to antagonize him that I've seen." Tom quickly agreed.

We spent the evening looking at various options, eating take away, and watching telly.

I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, confused again. Unable to help myself, I began to shake and cry. As if sensing it, he woke up as well, embracing me from behind. I leaned into him, turning to face him and bury my head in the crook of his neck.

He tried to ask if I wanted to talk about it, but words escaped me. So he rocked me back and forth, cooing in my ear that everything would be okay.

It was a while before I was able to calm down. "Would you like some tea?" I nodded, and he left. Bobby wasted no time in taking his place. When he returned a few minutes later, Bobby refused to move, but once I finished my tea, I moved him to the other side so he could be the tiny spoon, me the middle spoon, and Tom the big spoon. Although Tom fell asleep shortly after, sleep didn't come so easily to me, and I wasn't sure I wanted it to.