I know.
Something in Theo’s text sliced through me like a sharp blade and goose bumps broke out along my arms. Had I missed something that day he sent this? Was this truly an accident or— A compulsion to continue reading overtook me. This new lens could reveal so much.
Okay, what do you need from me? I had asked.
I’m not sure, but you once said you weren’t made of steel. But you are.
And, I love you.
Holy shit. I had not seen that last addition to the thread back when he sent it. A simple no-frills I love you. What did it mean?
Now, my fingers automatically wanted to text back I love you too because I still did, in my own way, but he wouldn’t receive the reply, and the response seemed so contrived, inadequate, and to be quite frank, dishonest, even if I had sent it back then. An enormous deluge of emotions engulfed me as I gathered my shirt in my fists and held back a huge sob.
Andrew followed my lead, saying nothing while he extended a tissue toward me, allowing me to sit with my thoughts and memories. All the times in my life when I counted on Theo to be there flickered through my mind: how deep our love had once been, what he had meant to me and the children. My fingers dug into the skin of my chest, as if to hold in a heart that might burst through the flesh at the thought that Theo wasn’t okay.
Andrew deposited me at the hospital’s front doors, asked me to stay put, and then left to find a place to park. A compulsion propelled me to begin the hunt myself, and winding my way through the maze of hallways to the ICU, I found him. My lunch lurched into my throat at the sight of Theo tucked into the white sheets of the hospital bed. How his health had gone downhill so quickly stymied me. What had I missed over the last week? My face must have registered its shock, for the attending doctor cut into my thoughts.
“Don’t blame yourself for this. He’s a grown man.”
The words confused me; had I heard him correctly? “For this? What are you talking about?” I looked over to Theo and back to the doctor, whose face had turned a stark shade of pale.
“We don’t have all the details, but the authorities mentioned he meant to drive off the road. He wasn’t found for two days’ time. Theo had to have understood the repercussions of his actions.”
Ice breathed down the back of my neck, and a shakiness overtook me. “Oh my God. Are you kidding me?”
“I’m afraid not,” he said.
“But...how the hell did this happen?” I dropped into the metal chair next to the bed and placed my head in my hands, pulling at the roots of my hair to manage the pain ripping through me.
“Listen, clearly this is a plea for help. We’ll do what we can, but I’m not sure if he’ll recover at all...”
Did the doctor think I wasn’t smart enough to understand a cry for help when one presented itself?
“Yeah,” I said, unable to keep the rancor out of my voice. “I see he’s sending me a message. His kids can’t handle this. I can’t handle this.” I hauled myself out of the chair and snatched at the doctor’s arms, grabbing his shirt in my hands. “Who else knows?”
He pried my fingers away from his clothing but continued to hold them within his hands. “Listen, it’s not my place to tell anyone. As far as I’m concerned, no one besides a few folks here and the sheriff’s office know about the suspicion.”
The bell of the breathing machine to which Theo was attached made its ascent upward and then downward, and the vitals monitor beeped its signal. My strong and formerly still-capable partner couldn’t even breathe by his own accord. Why did he do this now? Had our argument and my admission instigated this? My breathing rate picked up, and I clenched my fists against my sides as an indescribable anger rose within me. In a small hospital room, my fury would have no outlet, so I slumped back into the chair next to the bed and stared at Theo.
His face, so pinched and drawn, looked like the product of an epic battle he’d barely come out of alive. Epic battle, indeed. For the last several years this man had taken up a fight against an opponent that perhaps, he’d never beat. And years before, with his dad? Theo fought an enemy for far more years than anybody should have to.
The doctor took a piece of paper and a book from the bedside table and handed them to me. “The team found these in the coat Theo had on him. They’re meant for you, obviously, but they may need to be seen by the police. The note is important enough to let you see it before it gets lost or taken. I’ll leave you two alone now.” The doctor’s slow stride took him closer to the door before he glanced back once, pity on his face.
Flipping the book over, I gasped at the cover: Dante’s Inferno. Was this a sign? What was Theo trying to tell me?
My fingers traced the edges of the same thick, ivory paper Theo had used back at Walloon Lake, and my stomach turned at the thought of what the paper had represented that day: detachment. And now, this huge attempt—if that’s what it was—at complete separation. When had he decided this? Why hadn’t he spoken to me? The tears pooled in my eyes, and my lips quivered. Fearing what I’d find inside the folded-up square of paper, I turned it over several times before plucking up the courage to face those fears. With trembling hands, I lifted the top half of the paper.
Dear Sadie,
You tore my heart into a thousand pieces with your admission, but once I thought about everything you’d said, I realized you were right. We had been damaged for a long time before we agreed to separate, and I was partially to blame. My inability to want to seek help and my lack of confidence in my abilities—both played a huge role in our demise. My choice wasn’t fair to you or the kids or to me or to our marriage. I understand and accept responsibility for that.
Life can be hard; marriage can be hard. Those statements are true. And you, Sadie, would have worked your tail off to make this marriage work, had I let you. But I didn’t, and then, I didn’t let you go either. And that’s not fair. To you or to the kids. Or even to me.
It took a long time to realize, but I’m not made like you. Each day, I step toward a life I never wanted and one I’m having trouble accepting. There’s a way to change the path, a way to make life less difficult, but choosing that route won’t help anyone but me.
And then there’s Andrew. It’s clear he reveres you. He made me realize I should have held tightly to you and never let you go. He also made me realize the two of you could be happy together, really happy. Imagining you and him in the cottage almost kissing was like experiencing Dante’s inferno the whole time. All seven fucking levels.
Just remember this: I loved you then, and I love you still.
Yours, Theo.
I crumpled the paper in my hands, threw it to the floor, and stomped on it in a fit of rage so full of heat, it took my breath away. When had he written this? Its presence implied he’d meant to drive off the cliff, and I turned toward the window, trying to calm myself with the early December Ohio sky, mottled with thick, gray clouds and dotted by a group of birds headed south.
But my mind was quick to pick up the fury again. The Theo I married would have been stronger than this! How could he leave his kids this way? “They’ll remember you as a coward, not as the strong character you wanted to leave them as. Why couldn’t you see that?” I whispered.
Tears streamed down my face as I leaned in toward him, extending my fingers to his pale cheek and tracing the line of his jaw. I longed for him to open his eyes, move his jaw, and begin speaking. I’d listen to anything: the weather, his job, baseball stats, fractals, current events, anything. Just talk to me.
The hinges of the door creaked, and I sensed someone behind me. Glancing over my shoulder at Mom, my eyes watered. She clutched her hat in her hands and an expression of deep sorrow lined her tired face. She’d gone through a lot o
n this last day, and how she managed to get here so quickly—I’d address that another time.
“How are you doing?” Mom said.
“How do you think?”
“Not so good, I’d say.”
“You’ve got that right, but what did you expect?”
“True. I only came to sit and listen. I thought it might help.” She pushed a second chair close to the one I had been sitting in and settled into it. Then, she leaned down, picked up the letter, and silently handed it to me.
Letting go of Theo’s hand, I sat next to her, our shoulders touching. The physical connection stood out to me as an indicator I should let her listen, let her show she cared. In my book, she’d be the prodigal mom who went away and came back, and we’d be the mother-daughter duo who reconnected and forged a new, healthier relationship.
“You’ve caught on to most of everything that’s happened over the last half year or so, but recently, I’ve been comparing my life to a book,” I said.
The lines of Mom’s face danced upon hearing my words. “Oh, why am I not surprised? You always were a voracious reader, even when you didn’t have the time to be. And with your job...”
“So, I got to thinking. What sort of book would my life be? And while I couldn’t quite decide—because I kept getting more thrown at me: men, drama, laughs, you name it, I got it—I also started wondering about the character I’d be. It’s clear now I’m the flawed heroine, if I can even call myself a heroine...look what I’m doing with my life. But who wants to read about a person with flaws?” I pressed my back against the chair and felt the steel rod up against my spine, which forced me to sit up straighter than I would have preferred.
“We all have flaws,” Mom said, a simple quirk to her lips.
“I know that.”
“And some of the most well-written and highly regarded characters are flawed; it’s what makes them human. But this isn’t a book.” Mom extended her hand to mine, and I didn’t stop her from taking it. “This is your life, and you’ve always been the type to take what you want from it. Decide what you want and then go for it.” She pressed our fingers together, a gesture I chose to interpret as unwavering, yet surprising, support.
“That doesn’t apply right now does it? Theo is dying here.”
“Not to be crude, but he’s been dying for a long time, Sadie. You’ve just been hanging on for the ride. And is he really what you want?”
All this time, and I thought Mom hadn’t noticed. Her words felt like pins to me, and I removed my hand from hers. “You aren’t married anymore. How can you understand? It doesn’t matter I’ve wavered back and forth, and I’ve been inconsistent. I thought Theo was going to try and make things better for himself. That’s what we agreed on. Plus, I told him I’d be here for him.”
“But are you here?”
This time, her words slammed into me like a linebacker taking out an opponent. I gasped, shook my head to rid myself of the offensive feeling, and concentrated on the floor, which couldn’t spew verbal barbs. “Your words hurt, Mom. They really hurt.” For once, I wanted to be completely honest with her, plus I didn’t have the energy to throw anything more offensive her way.
“I know. I’m sorry I’m the one who had to say them. But I am your mom. And always will be.”
For so long, Mom and I had spoken words that served as slings and arrows, and now, only now, when I was in the crux of a crisis, did I realize this time she probably was truly sorry.
“It’s okay, it’s what we do...as mom and daughter anyway. We have this knack for injuring one another with a single word.”
“Well then, I might as well go ahead and mention you’re reacting like I would.”
“What? Like you? How?” I stared into Mom’s eyes. I’d never seen truth shining from them like I did that day.
“You can’t see it? Being indecisive, going back and forth, trying to find a reason for everything that’s happening and trying to find a place to put the blame. You, only you, are accountable for your actions. No one else.
“But if you really wanted Andrew, if you want Andrew, if he’s the best option for you, you’re the only one who can decide that. Screw what everyone else says, it’s your life. But be sure of what you’re doing, because once you do it, you can’t go back.”
Tight silence hung in the air, punctuated only by the sounds of Theo’s machines.
“You’re a little late, Mom.” I had decided to at least try a new future involving Theo far off to the side and Andrew in the new supporting role. “Theo seems to want to call the shots right now. I’m not sure I can deal with anything else at this point.”
The cavalier way the words spilled forth surprised me, but my entire being flooded with fatigue and exasperation. Was Theo going to die? If he did, how would that affect me and the kids? I’d anticipated a sense of relief when Theo signed the papers and moved out because even though I hadn’t originally wanted to divorce, it became clear it was the correct path. But this would be a sudden happenstance, an abrupt loss, a shock to both me and the kids. I gripped the arms of the chair, so cold beneath my fingers, and fought against the sobs wracking my body once again.
“I want Andrew, but I also want Theo back. Is it possible to want them both?”
“Yes, but not in the way you’ve been going about it. You’ve been trying to balance both for a while now, right? And has it worked?”
Just because Mom told the truth didn’t mean I had to like it. But I knew better this time and thought about what she said, absorbing the words and giving my honest answer.
“No, it hasn’t worked at all,” I said.
“Then dig deep. Get inside your head and heart and soul and take the time to listen to what they’re telling you. And figure the whole goddamn mess out.”
Chapter 32: Theo
The sun’s rays streamed through the plate glass window next to Doc’s desk as I sat in a chair in her office. The slivers of light hit the brown carpet, highlighting a dark oval that didn’t match the surrounding fibers. A rust-colored cast. What had happened there? And why didn’t I remember how I’d gotten here?
“Do you feel better now?” Doc said, smirk on her lips, legs crossed in front of her. She’d bought a new pen—ruby and black, the kind that clicked—and she’d been pushing the end up and down since I’d shown up. Normally, Doc knew better than to try and set me off, but today, she had a major problem. Click, click, click.
“Do I feel better? I’m not sure. How did I get here?”
“You mean you don’t know? You don’t remember?” Click.
“I remember talking to you on the phone when I was at the Inn. But the rest of it. All hazy. Am I on new meds?”
Doc’s phone rang, and she lifted a finger, silently telling me to hold on before she answered it. What the hell? She never answered her phone during one of our sessions. In fact, the phone had always been silenced...
“That’s right,” Doc said to the person on the other line. “Dinner party at eight means you’ll need to be there by six. I could use a bit of help cooking.” Click. “I’m not going to serve anything fancy, but you know how I am.” She giggled and glanced at me. “No, no. That’s okay. I’ll be sure to have something you can eat...chicken? I’d much prefer something a bit darker, shall we say…” Click.
Giggling? Doc? The lift of her eyebrow...I shoved my hands against my eyes, rubbed them, and blinked. Click. Doc had switched positions. She now stood in front of me, arms across her chest, fire blazing from her eyes. A normally calm fixture in my life, she’d become an imposing and daunting figure.
“You’re not as forthcoming as you need to be, Theo. I’m worried about you. It’s time to consider new alternati
ves.”
“Like what?”
Doc reached for my hand and pulled me to standing. We faced one another, her breathing in tune with mine. Click.
“Can you please stop?” I asked, my entire body pulsing with tension, a slight humming moving up and down my legs and arms.
“Stop what?”
“The clicking.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“But your pen—”
She held up her hands. Both empty. Click.
I blinked again, grit stinging my eyes. When I opened them, Doc had moved to the corner, and the Yoga Man had appeared, lying on a thin ochre mat next to my feet.
“There’s still hope for you, Theo,” he said.
“What do you mean, hope?” All of me fought to push up from my chair, but something otherworldly tethered me to the seat. My feet. No luck there either. My arms—stuck to those of the chair.
“I mean you’re looking for something. For a connection. I can feel it, in here.” The man touched his chest with one finger and turned his head my way. His dark pupils glittered in the light. “What is holding you back from moving forward?”
“I’m not even sure what forward means anymore.” An image of an empty road, split down the middle by a broad, yellow line, formed before my eyes. The line splintered in two and the road divided, then vanished, taking the man with it. Darkness enveloped the whole room.
His voice remained. “Your body needs to be in tune with the Earth.”
“You mean like Liam’s body is in tune with the Earth?”
“Was that critical tone intentional? Where did it come from, friend?”
His voice—soft and smooth as the newest of skin—moved forward, caressing my ears, moving down my neck, propelling me to speak, even though I didn’t want to.
“From inside, where I’m broken,” I whispered.
“At least you admit it.”
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