by Loretta Lost
“How do I know I can trust you?” I ask the doctor.
He shrugs with a sad smile. “I’ll be honest with you. I’ve seen it all, I’ve heard it all. I won’t judge. In fact, you can tell me what you’re dealing with, and walk right out of this place if you want. No pressure.”
That sounds like music to my ears. Freedom. Does he mean it, or is it a strategy of some sort? I don’t care. I shift around and get comfortable on the couch. Yes, there is actually a couch in his office, and it’s rather comfy. It feels like it’s been worn down by the weight of the problems of all the royally messed-up people who have allowed their bodies to brokenly slump here in the past.
My favorite kind of furniture! Nothing softens leather up like trauma.
“I was seeing someone who isn’t there,” I tell him. “I’m not seeing her anymore, since I realized she wasn’t really there. But… I don’t understand exactly what happened. And I really miss her. I wish I could still see her.”
He nods, thoughtfully.
“Who was she?” he asks.
I glance down at his shoes. I don’t know why I feel like I can open up to a man about this better than a woman. Especially since men have been the source of most of my problems. But I still feel like I connect with them and understand them better, somehow.
“She was my daughter,” I explain. “I think she was my daughter. I was pregnant, but I lost the baby. At least I thought I lost the baby.”
The therapist sighs and puts down his pen. “Was that your first pregnancy?”
“No,” I tell him, as my breath catches in my throat. I think about the coat hanger. “There was another, when I was very young. Way too young. I had a… termination. But the father was a monster. It was… awful.” I reach up to touch my necklace, which somehow, they’ve let me keep. “He’s dead now, so that’s all okay. But with my last pregnancy, things were different. I was happy, with someone I love. I don’t know what happened exactly, why I had a breakdown. It was my choice that time.” I shut my eyes tightly, knowing that it really was my choice. Serena was never brave, but I am. And I’ve always loved Cole without reservation.
“Childhood trauma is a powerful thing,” the doctor says. “It makes perfect sense that you would relive the first experience.”
“The problem is that someone recently planted the idea in my head that I had the child… but it was taken from me. And since then, I’ve been seeing Joy.” I flinch at even saying her name. “I think I just made her up to deal with that information. I don’t know. I was under the influence of drugs at the time. I was forced to take them, I might add, so I don’t need rehab or anything like that. I guess I’m crazy. That’s why I’m here, right? I don’t know why I kept seeing her long after the drugs wore off.”
“You’re not crazy,” the therapist says, and he closes his notebook. “Losing a child is heartbreaking. I should know. My wife had over a dozen miscarriages. The grief is crippling, and the mind does funny things to compensate and help itself heal. It tricks us, so we can feel better. The mind is a fascinating, many-faceted thing, that can create whole worlds—so creating a person, or an identity, is nothing extraordinary. I remember walking into the nursery one night, and seeing my wife sitting in the rocking chair, holding a baby that wasn’t there. And she was happy. She just needed to be happy for a few minutes, or she would have been lost forever.”
My eyes widen, and I feel comforted to know that I’m not the only one. “What did you do to help her?” I ask.
He smiles and shrugs. “We adopted. We knew it wasn’t going to work out for us, and couldn’t bear the pain of failure and loss anymore. Once there’s a real baby bawling his eyes out in your house, depending on you for absolutely everything, your heart becomes full of love, and the grief fades a little.”
I stare at him in surprise. “You think the solution is to just try to have a real baby?”
“If that’s a possibility for you at all, at this point. If you’re healthy, financially stable, in a good relationship.”
“Hell, yes,” I say, rubbing my hands together. Then I hesitate. “Don’t you think I need to get over all this? Become emotionally ready? Stop seeing people who aren’t there?”
“Sophie, I’ve spoken to people who have lost children of all ages. What makes you think there is ever any getting over this? Many of those people can never function properly in life again, with any amount of therapy. You lost a piece of yourself. There’s no getting over that.”
“So, you think… I’m normal?” I ask in surprise. I find myself holding my breath as I wait for a response
He shrugs. “I think everyone is normal.”
“I really need a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer, doc.”
“Yes, Sophie. I think you’re normal.”
I exhale, feeling totally vindicated. Me, Snow. I’m normal. A respected psychiatrist is telling me I’m normal. Even though I just killed a man in the worst possible way.
“And you think I should just… have a baby?”
“If that’s what you want. If that’s what would make you happy. If that’s what’s killing you inside.”
“That’s…” I pause. “That’s awesome. Therapy is awesome. That’s the best advice I’ve ever heard. And really practical.”
He smiles. “I try to be practical.”
“So do you think I should leave here? Am I cured? Am I fine?”
He laughs softly. “I said you were normal, I didn’t say you were fine. I don’t think anyone is fine. You are welcome to leave if you want, but you are also welcome to stay and recuperate.”
Canada is amazing, I think to myself. “Thank you,” I tell him. “No offense, but I can’t wait to get the hell out of this place.”
“None taken,” he says. “I feel the same way at the end of every workday. Just do me a favor? Don’t beat up any more nurses.”
I pause. I don’t remember doing that. I don’t remember Serena doing that, either. I consider mentioning this, but I feel like working through the mess of my brain would require years of more counseling. “I’ll try,” I say lightly, moving to exit the room.
“Oh, and Sophie?” he calls after me. “You know what really helps? Get a cat. I swear. If you’re looking for joy, then a furry friend is a good place to start. Cats are like babies, but much more self-sufficient—and wise. They can heal a broken human being far better than any therapy.”
“Okay, doc.” I give him a puzzled smile before moving to walk away. What a silly little old man.
“Seriously, think about it!” he calls after me. “Cats are the best!”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Cole Hunter, 2016
Standing outside Zack’s cottage with my arms crossed over my chest, I am staring out at the docks where Scarlett and I made love. I miss her so much it’s making me sick. I have been trying to tell myself that I did the right thing, but I selfishly wish that I never had to let her go. Every day away from her is excruciating, and I hate not knowing how she is. But in the meantime, I’m enjoying my stay at this little cottage. The view actually is amazing, and I can’t help wondering whether I screwed up.
Just being in a place like this could almost be enough.
When my phone rings, I jump and quickly reach for it in my pocket, knowing it could be the psychiatric facility where Scar is staying. A dozen thoughts cross my mind as I answer, from my greatest hope to worst fears. She’s better and she’s ready to go home. She’s gotten worse and we need to keep her indefinitely.
“Hello?” I ask hoarsely.
“You fucking moron,” says the voice on the other end of the line.
I look down at my phone in surprise. The number is from the facility. “Scar?” I ask, then I realize it sounds nothing like her. “Snow?” I have a quick mental image of returning to the facility and finding all the doctors and patients dead and lying in a huge pile of bodies, while Snow stands nearby and casually smokes a cigarette she stole from another patient while waiting for me to pick her up.
I glance back into the cottage with a frown. “Who’s asking?”
“I’m Sibyl,” she responds. “And I don’t like you, Cole. I don’t trust you. Zack was being good to us. Zack was what she needed—and he would never betray me like that. He promised me he would never tell you our location!”
“I see,” I murmur, trying to come to terms with this new information. It’s the first time I’m meeting part of Scarlett other than Snow. Even before hearing about Joy, I’ve done lots of research on the subject and wondered if more identities existed. But I am still surprised and hurt to hear that this girl doesn’t like me. She prefers Zack. That makes sense, I suppose. There was always part of Scar that wanted to run away from any sort of real emotion or attachment for the sake of self-preservation.
“How did you find us?” she demands. “You killed him, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t kill him,” I tell her, as I move into the cottage to look at Zack. “I shot him, but I used a rubber bullet. I’d be a real jerk to kill a guy with one leg. I just felt like tying him up and smacking him around for a while.”
“Let him go,” Sibyl demands. “He doesn’t deserve that. He was actually taking care of us, unlike you.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“You abandoned us here, and now she’s suicidal.”
My heart skips a beat and I begin to rush to my car. Then I realize I’ve forgotten my car keys. “I’ll be right over,” I tell Sibyl.
“Don’t worry,” she responds. “I’m in control now. I’m the sensible one around here. I’m the motherfucking adult, Cole. Do you understand? Now before you do anything, untie Zack and let him go.”
It makes me somewhat jealous and annoyed that part of Scar is prioritizing Zack so much. But what can I expect? They lived together for a while. Part of her had to honestly connect with him. Moving over to Zack, I untie the cloth from around his face so I can pull the gag out.
He groans as he is released, and his head rolls forward, wincing from the pain in his busted lip where I planted my fist earlier. I feel very little remorse.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Sibyl says. “How did you find us?”
“Rodriguez helped me search, and we even reached out to my mafia grandparents for assistance,” I explain. “So I decided to embrace my mafia roots by trying intimidation techniques out on Zack. I just had a lot of anger to express, you know? Anyway, it was fun. But he’s fine. I don’t think he’s going to steal my girl ever again.”
“He didn’t steal me, Cole. I wanted him. I went willingly.”
I frown. “Then maybe you’re the one who’s stealing my girl.”
“I am. Because she’s fucking miserable in this place! I knew it. I always knew you would betray us.”
“Sibyl, I was trying to help. Luciana encouraged me to do this as well, because she’s dealt with the aftermath of kidnapping and hostage situations. I’ve visited as much as I can.”
“You know what we’ve been through. Benjamin drugged and abducted her. Zack was obviously trying to take advantage of the situation, and thinking mostly of himself. But you. Locking me up in an asylum? Forcing me to get my head shrunk? After you knew that I had just been forced, against my will, to do a great deal of things. Cole, I’m so disappointed in you.”
“I didn’t force you, Sibyl. It was still her choice.”
“You pressured her. She’s only doing this to make you happy!”
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I didn’t really want to let her go. I’m coming back right now, okay?” Untying Zack’s hands, and feet, I leave him slumped over in his chair, not really caring about his battered state. I grab my car keys and head for the door.
“You should have discussed it with her,” Sybil is saying. “Not just driven her directly to a madhouse. You’re not our keeper, just because we married you. You don’t own us.”
“I know. But I was honestly just trying to help.”
She pauses. “Why do we need help, Cole? We could have been dead, but we all worked together, and we survived. It’s been a difficult few weeks, and it all just blurs together. All of the men trying to control me. Pushing and pulling in different directions. Now you’re just one of them.”
“Do not lump me in with those assholes!” I warn her as I start up my car. It’s difficult to come to terms with the fact that I’m talking to a stranger who is using Scarlett’s voice. I don’t know how to speak to her, exactly.
“You should have let us get help when we were ready, in our own time.”
I sigh, hanging my head slightly. I reach down into the glove compartment of my car, feeling for the ring box. “Do you hate me, Sibyl? Because I can’t stand the thought of any part of you hating me. I am planning to ask Scar to marry me again. For real this time. If you really think I’m hurting her…”
“Don’t talk to me about that shit,” she says with annoyance. “That’s between you and her.”
“You are her,” I point out. “I’ve never met you, but I value your opinion. Because from now on, I’m planning to be around her all the time. And that means being around you all the time.”
There is a pause on the other end of the line. “If you want to be around us all the time, why aren’t you now?”
“I’m nearby, Sibyl. I’m minutes away. I never wanted to leave Scar’s side.”
“Then don’t fucking leave her side!” she shouts at me. “Everyone who should have loved her has left her, literally tossed her in the dirt. And those that stuck around only did so because they got off on causing her harm. Now, after what she’s been through, you left her alone in a hospital for crazy people?”
“Are you angry at me about Zack?” I ask her. “I didn’t hurt him much. I think I was just taking out my anger at Benjamin…”
“I don’t care about Zack!” she responds.
“I thought you liked him better than me?”
“Only because he’s safe! Because she doesn’t care as much. You’re dangerous, Cole. You have the power to break her heart with a single word. She’s madly in love with you.”
Suddenly, I understand. She doesn’t hate me. She’s just scared. I smile sadly. “Sibyl, I can assure you that I will never speak that word, whatever it is, and I will never break your heart. Now relax, and take care of Scar for me until I get over there.”
She hesitates. “Fine.”
“On my way,” I say as I peel out of the driveway. She hangs up and I exhale heavily. I didn’t realize that my decision would hurt Scarlett this much, which is the exact opposite of what I wished to accomplish. I want to scream in frustration. I keep driving at slightly reckless speeds, in order to bridge the gap between us sooner.
However, as I round a turn, I find a lineup of cars waiting at a railway crossing, for a very long train. I curse loudly as I slam on the brakes.
When my phone rings, I reach for it again quickly while glaring at the blocked road. “I’m on my way,” I say. “There’s just a train passing and I have to wait for…”
“Sorry,” says a male voice. “I’m not whoever you’re driving to see! But maybe you will be driving to fly or see me soon?”
I lift an eyebrow and check the caller display. It is not the psychiatric facility. It’s also not even my phone. It’s Scarlett’s phone, which I confiscated from Zack, who should never have confiscated it from her. I accidentally answered it while annoyed by the train.
“Who is this?” I demand, wondering why a strange man is calling Scarlett’s phone.
“I’m a friend of Sophie’s? Kinda. Well, I met her once. Do I have the right number?”
“It depends who’s calling.”
“I’m Owen. I’m best friends with her brother.”
“I’m her br—” I remember about her biological family. I clear my throat. “I’m her boyfriend. She left her phone in my car and I’m driving to return it to her now
. Can I take a message?”
“Sure!” says Owen, who sounds like a cheerful guy. “This is very short notice, but this weekend, Liam (that’s Sophie’s brother) is going to try to surprise Helen (that’s his fiancée, or at least she was) in Switzerland with a second attempt at their wedding, in this adorable little ski chalet. I’m planning the wedding myself, and it’s going to be snowy and magical. If you two are up for a European adventure, we can fly you out to Switzerland to join us!”
I hesitate. “Thanks for the invite, but it’s not really a good time, Owen. We have a lot going on at the moment.”
“I know it’s probably inconvenient, but it’s the romantic getaway of a lifetime! Come on, it’s just a weekend. You guys have to be able to free up some time. Pleeeeeasse. Imagine me giving you irresistible puppy dog eyes right now.”
“But… I have no idea what you look like.”
“That’s a good point,” Owen says thoughtfully. “Well, give the message to Sophie when you see her. Especially the part about the puppy dog eyes. Oh, yeah! I forgot the most important part. Sophie’s going to be an auntie, because Helen is pregnant!”
I flinch a little. “Is that so?”
“Yeah! That’s why we’re rushing the wedding and all. Don’t know if Sophie told you, but Liam done fucked up with their first wedding. He freaked out about meeting Sophie and left Helen at the altar. But that’s okay, because we’re planning this grand romantic gesture to win her back. I’ve watched a lot of Hallmark movies, so I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“You watch Hallmark movies?” I ask in surprise.
He clears his throat. “Okay, so it’s porn. I watch a lot of porn. But the storylines are just as cheesy, and there are always happy endings. So just trust me, I can give them an incredible happy ending. Not the porn kind. And you guys should be there for it!”
I can’t help smiling a little at this man’s infectious enthusiasm. “I’ll let her know,” I say, as the last car of the train rolls by and the traffic starts moving again. “Gotta go now, Owen. Good luck with the wedding.”