Claim

by Janet Nissenson

  He shut his eyes for a brief moment, took a deep breath, then shook his head firmly.

  “No,” he told her decisively. He took her hand in his and slid the ring back onto her finger before she could struggle or protest. “This ring belongs on your finger, Tessa, and it’s going to remain there until your dying day. Just as you belong to me. And no bloody condition that you may or may not have is going to keep us apart. You are not moving out of our house, not getting a damned job, and you are not breaking our engagement. I won’t allow it, do you hear me?”

  She was weeping, the tears tracking slowly down her pale cheeks. “Ian, please,” she whispered. “You’ve got to let me do this, got to let me go. You don’t understand how bad this disorder can get, how it changes a person, makes them do and say crazy things. I won’t subject you to that, I just won’t. So, please, please don’t try and talk me out of this. It’s the best thing for you, darling. You can find someone else, someone whose family isn’t tainted with this horrible condition, who won’t risk passing it on to your children. I love you more than my own life, Ian, but I won’t put you through something like this.”

  Alarmed at how distraught she was quickly becoming, he swiftly unbuckled his seat belt, then hers, and picked her up in his arms. He ignored the look of mingled surprise and concern on Will’s face as he swept past the flight attendant on his way to the aircraft’s master bedroom. Tessa was too upset to fight him, merely burying her face against his shoulder as he set her down gently on the bed. He took her in his arms, cuddling her close, and simply held her for long minutes, letting her cry it out. He didn’t speak, except to murmur an occasional word of comfort, as he stroked her hair and rubbed her back soothingly.

  After a time, her sobs gradually ceased, and her body went limp against his. Ian pressed gently kisses to her forehead, her temple, her cheek, rocking her back and forth until she gave a sigh of resignation and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “I can’t marry -” she began tremulously.

  He placed a finger against her lips. “Hush, now. You’re terribly upset, you’ve had an awful shock, but you aren’t thinking this out clearly, darling. You’ve got yourself strung as tight as a bow right now, and you’re going to snap in two if you don’t try and calm down. Let’s discuss this before making any rash decisions, all right? You owe me at least that much, Tessa.”

  She looked shamefaced at that gentle rebuke, and nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Ian. I know I’ve been overreacting, haven’t taken this at all well.”

  “I understand what a shock it’s all been, Tessa,” he told her. “But you can’t make these sorts of impulsive decisions on your own, can’t shut me out. You and I - we’re like two halves of the same person, two halves of the same soul. And if you were to ever leave me, Tessa, I would never be whole again. We’re going to get through this together, darling, just like we’re going to get through the rest of our lives together - both the good times and the bad ones. All right?”

  Tessa sniffled then, before nodding slowly. “All right. Though I want you to promise me now, Ian, that if I do have this disorder, that if it ever gets really bad, that - “

  “That I will stand by you and love you and take care of you no matter what,” he declared fervently. “Nothing will ever change that, Tessa. And there is nothing that will ever compel me to leave you. So don’t ask me to promise you something like that. I’ve told you many times that I’ll give you whatever your heart desires. But don’t ever ask me to let you go, darling, because that’s the one thing I’d never consent to do.” He pressed a soft kiss on her lips, then kissed away the rest of her tears. “You are everything to me, Tessa. My heart, my soul, my very life. And if you left me, I’d have no reason to go on living. So you see,” he added teasingly, “unless you want my death on your conscience, you have to stay with me. Forever.”

  She sighed, cupping his cheek in her palm. “You are the most stubborn, controlling, bossy man I’ve ever met. And I love you desperately. I just don’t - “

  “Shush.” This time he placed his entire palm over her mouth. “I don’t want to hear any more of your silly protests. And that’s an order from your very overbearing, controlling fiancé.”

  Tessa actually laughed then, though the sound came out more like a croak after so much crying. She snuggled closer against him, her eyes closing with exhaustion, and Ian thought she had fallen asleep after a few minutes. But then she asked, in a barely audible voice that almost shook with fear, “What are we going to do? How are we going to get through this?”

  He combed through the tangle of her blonde curls with his fingers. “One step at a time, love, that’s how,” he replied steadily. “I’ve been texting back and forth with Jordan for a couple of hours now, and he’s trying to get us an appointment with a psychiatrist in San Francisco who’s a noted expert in the field of bipolar disorder. We’re going to meet with this doctor, get her diagnosis and opinion, have every genetic test currently on the market done. Then we go from there. And if we need to consult with another doctor, have more tests done, then we do. As you’re aware, I’m a very, very wealthy man. We’ll fly halfway around the world to find you the very best doctors if that becomes necessary. I won’t spare any expense to get the answers we need.”

  The expression in her blue eyes was filled with both love and dread. “What - what happens if the diagnosis is positive?” she whispered.

  Ian shrugged. “We work with the doctors to get you the right medication, the right therapy. Keep in mind, love, that while it’s a terrible disorder, it’s not a death sentence, not even close. It’s not terminal cancer or ALS or some other incurable disease. Many people live normal, happy lives. Unfortunately, your mother and grandmother never received the right sort of treatment, or had the necessary support to battle their disorders. That won’t be the case with you, Tessa. But let’s think positively, hmm? I know you almost as well as I know myself, have lived with you almost round the clock for a year now, and I think I would have noticed any sort of odd behavior.” He tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear, smiling at her warmly. “And you’re the least odd person I’ve ever met. In fact, I would say that you were as perfect as they come. At least, you’ve always been my idea of the perfect woman.”

  She’d fallen asleep after that, but it had been a restless sleep, and for the next seven days she had visibly struggled to hold herself together. Ian had frantically tried everything in his power to help her, to console and reassure her that everything would be fine, and mostly to keep her mind off the matter by making sure she stayed busy and providing her with distractions.

  With Tessa’s consent, he had called her two closest friends - Julia and Sasha - and briefly explained the situation, and both women had quickly jumped into action to help. Julia had cajoled and then finally bullied Tessa into going out to lunch and shopping with her, and she and Nathan had invited them out to dinner one evening. Sasha, bless her heart, had made it a point to visit Tessa every single day this past week, whether it was for a massage or a private yoga session or simply to sit and meditate with her. Ian had thought about calling the cantankerous Mrs. Carrington for advice, and to suggest she give Tessa a stern talking to in the hope of snapping her out of the funk she was in, but reconsidered the idea at the last minute. Tessa was a very private person, much like himself, and he wanted to respect her wishes to keep this news to themselves until they had more information.

  Ian glanced at her now as she waited for the doctor anxiously, clasping and unclasping her hands as she often did when she was agitated or on edge. If she hadn’t fixed her hair into a thick knot at her nape today, he knew she would have also been twirling a lock of it around her fingers over and over. He hated seeing her this way, pale and worn out, a shadow of her usual vibrant self. She was dressed in a rather subdued black and white polka dot dress, black cardigan sweater, and low heeled sling-back pumps. Her makeup consisted only of a swipe of pink lip gloss, and the only jewelry she’d bothered to wear w
as her engagement ring. And he was fully prepared to glue the damned thing to her finger in order to make sure it stayed firmly in place.

  But despite her rather demure appearance, she still possessed that heady sexual allure that was simply part of who she was. Ian figured she would still be turning heads when she was well into middle age and beyond, having the sort of pure, classically beautiful features that almost always aged well.

  And she certainly never failed to stir his blood, especially now when they hadn’t had sex since last Friday morning in their hotel suite in Minneapolis, just before that ill-fated drive out to Oak Grove. Tessa had been so fragile, so vulnerable and withdrawn, that he would have felt like the most inconsiderate of men to even suggest they have intercourse. He’d merely held her in his arms each night when it came time for bed, letting her cling to him as she silently sought out comfort, but he hadn’t tried to initiate any further physical activity between them.

  It had been the longest stretch of abstinence for them since her emergency surgery and subsequent recovery period last September, and Ian couldn’t help the ache he felt in his groin at just being close to her this way. The light, floral scent of her perfume tantalized him, as did the swell of her breasts against her silky dress, and the sight of her long, shapely legs crossed at the knee.

  She glanced up at him then, and a slow smile crossed her face as she noticed the way he was looking at her. Tessa took his hand in hers and gave it a slight squeeze.

  “I miss you, too,” she whispered. “And I’m sorry that I haven’t exactly been in the mood for - well, you know.”

  “It’s all right, darling,” he assured her. “I understand how upsetting all of this has been for you. And we don’t always have to have sex in order to be intimate, you know. There’s a great deal more to true intimacy than just the physical part. It’s connecting on an emotional and mental level as well.”

  She leaned over and gave him a sweet, soft kiss, and when she lifted her lips from his her blue eyes were glowing. “I do love you, Ian,” she murmured. “So much. And I’m sorry to have been such a head case this week. I’m just having -”

  Whatever she was about to say next was interrupted by the arrival of Doctor Ellen Gatlin. Ian had seen the photos of her on her website while doing extensive research on her training and background - undergraduate degree from Yale, medical degree from Columbia, residency at Johns Hopkins. He knew she was in her late fifties, had never married or had children, and had been practicing in San Francisco for more than twenty years.

  And while she was a rather petite, small-boned woman, Ellen Gatlin carried herself with a rather intimidating air of authority and confidence. She was smartly attired in an expertly tailored navy pantsuit, her dark blonde hair cut in a close fitting cap about her head, and Ian could tell at a glance that her chunky gold jewelry had cost a considerable amount. And it took just one look from those sharp, all-knowing light blue eyes, and one firm handshake as she introduced herself to him and Tessa, for Ian to realize they had found exactly the right person to help Tessa.

  “Please, let’s sit, shall we?” said Doctor Gatlin in a carefully modulated voice. “I prefer getting to know my new patients in a more informal manner, so sitting here as opposed to my desk always seems to make things a bit easier.”

  She directed her next question to Tessa. “Now, I understand from Patty that you’d like Ian to sit in on this session. Is that correct, Tessa?”

  “Yes, that’s correct. Is - is that possible?” asked Tessa uncertainly.

  Doctor Gatlin nodded. “It’s fine, if that’s what you prefer. And it might prove helpful to have him here during the diagnosis. There are quite a few questions I’ll be asking over the next ninety minutes, and oftentimes it’s a good idea to hear the observations of someone who’s close to you. Do the two of you live together?”

  “Yes,” replied Tessa. “For about a year now. And we work together part of the time as well. I travel with Ian on business trips about one week a month.”

  The doctor offered up a smile. “Well, it sounds like you spend a great deal of time together. And that if anything has been - let’s call it off - about your behavior or moods as of late, he would have definitely noticed. Would you agree, Ian?”

  “Absolutely,” answered Ian confidently. “And there’s been nothing unusual, nothing at all, Doctor Gatlin. I’m an extremely observant man, given the nature of my business, and there’s been nothing the least bit off about Tessa since she and I began seeing each other over a year ago.”

  Doctor Gatlin arched a well groomed eyebrow. “Well, that’s good news, Ian. But let’s reserve judgment until after we’ve gone through all the questions. Not to mention the family history and Tessa’s medical records. The protocol to diagnose bipolar disorder isn’t a simple one, so let’s get started, shall we?”

  For the next hour and a half, the doctor calmly and meticulously went through her extensive list of questions, most having to do with behavioral patterns, moods, emotions, thoughts, Tessa’s overall physical health. She had already looked over the medical records sent over by Tessa’s general practitioner, but asked about the episode last September when Tessa’s IUD had perforated her uterus, requiring emergency surgery and hospitalization. Throughout the questioning, the doctor never changed expression, never had any sort of reaction, and merely continued to jot down responses and make notes in the leather portfolio on her lap.

  And when one of the questions the doctor posed was “do you find yourself spending, or wishing to spend, significant amounts of money”, Ian couldn’t help himself from laughing out loud, and blurting out, “That is most definitely not a behavior Tessa has ever experienced, Doctor. I assure you.”

  Tessa had given him a little eye roll, while the doctor had glared, apparently not appreciating the interruption. So when the next question was “have you noticed an increased interest in sex over the past few months”, Ian covered his hand with his mouth, certain that Tessa wouldn’t appreciate him telling Doctor Gatlin how a year in his bed had turned her into a sex kitten.

  And as the questions continued, he began to feel more and more relieved as Tessa’s responses to all of them were negative - no, she hadn’t been doing things that could be termed “outrageous”; she hadn’t felt impatient with the people around her; she wasn’t over-involved in new plans and projects. And she most assuredly hadn’t had any episodes of depression for more than a year now - not counting, of course, the anxiety and stress she’d been experiencing this past week.

  The next part of the evaluation, however, seemed to be far more difficult for Tessa as she answered a multitude of questions about Gillian. Ian could see how much she struggled to discuss her mother’s behavior over the years, and it was clear to him how very different Gillian’s personality and actions had been from Tessa’s. Tessa had few answers about her grandmother, since she hadn’t known anything about her - even her first name - until a week ago. Ian, however, had had the foresight to request that a copy of whatever medical records existed for Corinne Pedersen be sent to Doctor Gatlin, so that she would have some idea of what had happened in the past.

  Towards the end of the session, when it was obvious how emotionally drained Tessa had become, the doctor finally put down her pen and folded her hands in her lap. Her smile was both kind and reassuring.

  “Thank you for all of that information, Tessa,” she told her. “I can tell it was painful for you to relive what you must have gone through with your mother. And from the little you were able to tell me about your grandmother, plus what I read over in her medical file, I’m certain your mother’s life with her must have been a living hell. But, you see, I’m not at all sure that your grandmother was actually bipolar based on her behavior.”

  Tessa frowned. “Her actions certainly weren’t those of a sane or mentally stable person. No one could treat a child the way she did my mother and be considered normal.”

  “Of course not,” soothed the doctor. “Your grandmother definitely su
ffered from a form of mental illness. But I don’t believe it was bipolar disorder. I can’t say for certain, of course, not having made a diagnosis of my own or having much information, but I’d be willing to bet Corinne suffered instead from schizoaffective disorder. To explain it in layman’s terms, it’s like being schizophrenic but with certain characteristics of bipolar disorder as well. Your grandmother would have had the mood swings that your mother suffered from, coupled with hallucinations and delusions. It’s a pity her doctors never caught that, because it’s highly unlikely she would have ever regained custody of your mother if they had. It’s a very serious illness, and usually requires intense therapy. So, in summary, I don’t believe that your grandmother and mother suffered from the same sort of mental illness. And I most certainly don’t believe that you, Tessa, are at all likely to develop bipolar disorder yourself.”

  Tessa instinctively clutched Ian’s hand, and he felt a little tremor go through her body at this very, very welcome announcement. As for himself, he couldn’t contain the joy that instantly lit up his face, smiling at his beloved at the good news.

  “You - you mean it?” she asked hoarsely. “You don’t think that I’m like my mother? That I’m at risk?”

  Doctor Gatlin shook her head. “Not from what I’ve been able to determine. You present with none of the symptoms, not even a hint. The lab tests that we had you take earlier this week all look perfectly normal, too - no hypothyroidism or anything else that we look for in these cases. The psychological evaluation is completely normal, though I would like to discuss your past episodes of depression with you.”

  “What about the genetic tests, Doctor Gatlin?” inquired Ian. “The research I did discussed three separate tests that could be done.”