by Nikki Ash
Dr. Clay continues, “Oftentimes you might’ve thought your mother’s medications were working. She would have good days, and you probably assumed it was because of the medications. But then when she would have bad days, you thought they weren’t working, and so you did what most people do. You took her to a new doctor to get reevaluated.”
My heart plummets in my chest as I listen to them. They’re describing exactly what we went through, and what we did the last fifteen years.
“I see the look on your face,” Dr. Clay says. “Don’t do that. Don’t feel like you’ve let her down. She doesn’t feel that way. Do you, Sarah?”
Everyone turns to my mom. “If it weren’t for my daughters, I wouldn’t even be alive right now.” Tears fill her lids. “Nobody could’ve known. I didn’t even understand it myself. The highs, the lows. The depression. I hate that my daughters spent their childhood without the kind of mother they deserved.”
“Oh, Mom, we love you. We just want you better,” I tell her.
“And I appreciate that, but now that I’m able to see things more clearly, I need to take responsibility. I failed my family.”
“Mrs. Winters,” Dr. Clay says, “have you spoken to your counselor about your feelings regarding this matter?”
“I have,” Mom says. “We’re agreeing to disagree at the moment.”
Dr. Clay laughs. “Okay, please make sure you continue to speak your thoughts. While accepting responsibility is a good thing, you weren’t aware of what was wrong and didn’t understand what was happening. I don’t like you using the word failed.”
Mom nods in understanding.
“So, what now?” Adrianna asks.
“Now that we have a firm grasp on your mother’s situation, we continue to treat her. We’re going to keep her here for at least another few weeks. Bipolar is treatable, but it’s also about learning how to live with it. She will continue to see her counselor here and be monitored closely. Once she’s discharged, in the beginning, she will need to see a counselor several times a week. She’ll need to live a life free of as much stress as possible. We want her to work on figuring out how she can accomplish this. Bipolar isn’t something that will just go away. It’s something she will have to be aware of and manage every day.
My stomach knots at the thought of my mom having to deal with this forever. I was so sure her being here would mean she would be fixed. But from what they’re saying, the only thing they can offer her are heavy duty Band-Aids. She’s going to have to deal with this for the rest of her life.
“Mom, how are you feeling?” I ask her.
“I feel really good,” she says with a confidence I don’t think I’ve ever heard from her before. “I feel calm and less anxious. I’m beginning to feel like my body and my head are actually my own.”
I reach over and place my hand on top of hers and squeeze it. She gives me a watery smile. And I vow once she gets out of here, I’m going to make sure she never loses her smile again. I’m going to sell the house and find us a place to live, and I’m going to make sure she takes her meds and sees a counselor. The last fifteen plus years were a rollercoaster between heaven and hell, and I will never let her get back on that ride again.
The doctors continue to explain the diagnosis and treatment plan some more, and when they’re done, they let us know we can spend some time with our mom in the visiting room.
“Dr. Burns, can I ask you a question in private?” I ask as everyone stands.
“Sure,” he says.
Everyone steps out of the room while we remain inside. “I was just wondering…Bipolar Disorder, is it…can it be genetic?”
The doctor gives me a quizzical look, so I elaborate. “My mom wasn’t always like this. I can remember the good times from when I was little. There weren’t many, but there were enough to think she wasn’t born like this.”
“Bipolar is a brain disorder which can develop any time,” he begins. “Some people are born with the vulnerability to the disorder, which means they have a higher chance of eventually developing the disorder. In your mom’s case that’s probably what happened. She might’ve had the symptoms when she was younger, but nobody knew to pay attention to them.”
“Can my sister and I have this…vulnerability?”
“Some studies have shown it can run in families, but just because your mom has it doesn’t mean you will. It’s important for you to pay attention to the symptoms we’ve discussed, and if you feel you’re experiencing them, see a counselor immediately. Bipolar Disorder isn’t a death sentence. You saw your mom today. She is doing well. The key is to monitor her and teach her how to live with the disorder. Many people with Bipolar live a normal life.”
A normal life. My mind goes to all the years my father tried to love my mom but couldn’t handle it. To the years my sister and I practically raised ourselves. Nothing was normal about any of that. I know it was before she got help, but who’s to say once she gets out we’ll ever have a normal relationship with our mom. The medications are working for now, but what happens when they don’t? Yes, this facility is one of the best, but like the doctors said, it’s all trial and error to find a way to manage the disorder.
“Thank you, Dr. Burns.”
After spending some time with Mom, we all say our goodbyes. Adrianna heads back to Boston, and Killian and I head back to his place. While he’s driving, I make the mistake of looking up my mom’s condition. Of course there are a million and one horror stories—from patients having a higher chance of suffering from substance abuse, to a higher risk of suicide. So even if my mom’s medication works and for the most part she’s okay, there’s still a chance of things going wrong. Just as I’m about to click on another page, my phone rings. It’s the realtor.
“I have some good news,” she tells me. “An offer has been put in for the house.”
“Oh, thank God.” My entire body relaxes.
“It was actually placed a few hours ago, but I had to type up the contract. It’s a cash offer and they have agreed to your asking price.”
“Really? They didn’t even try to counter?” Weird…I’m asking for what the going rate of the homes in the area are, but still…
“All you need to do is have your dad sign the papers, and since you have the power-of-attorney for your mom, you’ll need to sign them as well, and then we’ll get the deal done.”
Shit! My dad…I’m going to have to find him and get him to sign the damn papers.
“Giselle…that won’t be a problem, will it?”
“No, I just need to find my dad…”
We hang up and Killian glances over at me. “Your mom’s house?”
“It sold. A cash deal. This is perfect timing…” And then it hits me. The timing is too perfect. “I told Olivia today to move into her new house with Nick. You don’t think she bought the house, do you?”
Killian’s eyes flit back and forth between the road and me. “I don’t think she would do that,” he says.
“You’re right. She knows how upset I would be. Now I just need to find my dad.”
“I can have my brother search for him.”
“Thank you.”
“So what did you want to talk to the doctor about alone?” he asks.
“I asked him if Bipolar is genetic.”
“And?”
“It can be, and I’ve made a decision.” One that was cemented the minute I viewed all those posts online. When Killian doesn’t say anything, I continue, “I don’t want to have any children.”
Killian glances over at me then back to the road. “Giselle, what you went through growing up was because your mother wasn’t diagnosed properly. You heard the doctor. Your mother will live a normal life.”
“There’s that word again…normal…nothing was normal about what Addy and I went through. I can’t imagine ever putting my children through that. The physical and emotional abuse. I won’t do it. And who’s to say this time will work?”
“Maybe take some time and thin
k about it. It’s not like you have to decide right now.”
“There’s nothing to think about. I won’t put my family through that. The doctor said it can develop at any time.”
“So, what? You just won’t have a family? You won’t get married?”
“It’s one thing to get married. I’m not saying I’m going to not have a life. But had my parents not had kids when my mom got sick, they wouldn’t have had to deal with us.”
“I can’t speak for your father, but I don’t believe your mother would view it as dealing with you. She was so happy to finally feel good. You heard her when we were talking to her afterward. She’s excited to start this next phase of her life with her daughters.”
Killian pulls into the parking garage and parks in his spot, then he turns to me. “I feel like I’m finally living again, and you’re the reason why. Please don’t stop what’s happening between us out of fear.”
I take a second to assess his features. His messy chocolate-brown hair and deep mesmerizing green eyes. The way he smiles at me like I’m everything. He’s the perfect mix of sexy and beautiful and perfect. And I know exactly what he means, because it wasn’t until he entered my life I felt like I was finally really living. I don’t want to stop living…I just don’t want my living to negatively affect those around me.
“I don’t want to stop anything between us. But Killian, I have to ask, and I know it’s too early to even mention children, but would you be okay with…I mean…” I take a deep breath. “I don’t want to have kids. I know it sounds like overkill, but you weren’t there when I was growing up. You didn’t see what we went through because of my mother’s illness. You didn’t read the articles I read. I want to live my life and love you. But I don’t want you to feel you have to stay with me out of obligation, if what happened to my mom, happens to me. My dad sucks, but I believe that a lot of the reason why he stayed with my mom all those years was because of my sister and me. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that he left once Addy went away to college. I don’t ever want you to feel you have to be with me. And I don’t ever want to put my children in the position Addy and I were put in. I’m not trying to blame my mom. I know she didn’t know. But I do know. And it would be irresponsible of me to have kids knowing there’s a chance that at some point I might not be able to be the mother they deserve. Are you okay with it just being the two of us?”
“Shit, baby, I know what you went through was rough, but I would never leave you. Whatever happens in life we will face it together. And you can’t go by all the crap on the internet.”
“It wasn’t just crap. Many of those sites are credible. Did you know people with Bipolar run a higher risk of committing suicide? Of becoming addicted to drugs? Is that what you want to potentially expose our kids to? I found my mom on the floor half-dead. I would never wish that on another person.”
Killian stares at me for a long moment. I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until he nods once. “I just want you, Giselle. Whatever it is you want or don’t want I’m okay with. But I think you should speak to someone.”
“Like a counselor?”
“Yeah, I can go with you if you want. I just think it would be a good idea to speak to someone about how you’re feeling.”
“Okay,” I agree.
We get inside and Killian gives his brother a call. Not even twenty minutes later he calls back with an address for my dad.
“That was fast.”
“My brother has connections.” Killian winks playfully.
“Will you go with me to see him?”
“Of course. When?”
“Now? The address isn’t too far from here. We can swing by and get the papers from the realtor and take them to him to sign and get notarized.”
* * *
We pull up to an older yet still beautiful brownstone in Chelsea. I’m not a real estate expert, but if I had to guess, the place is worth a few million. “Are you sure this is the address?” I ask Killian.
He double checks the information his brother sent over. “Yeah.”
We get out and walk up to the front door. I ring the doorbell and immediately hear the sound of children’s laughter. The door swings open, and standing there is a young, gorgeous blond-haired woman of maybe thirty. Based on how she’s dressed and the way she presents herself, it’s obvious this woman has money. Two little boys who can’t be any older than five peek out from behind her, giggling.
“I’m sorry. I think I have the wrong address. I’m looking for Craig Winters.”
The woman smiles softly. “You have the right address.” She turns her head back toward the inside of her home. “Craig, honey, someone is here for you.” My stomach lurches at the term of endearment. Killian’s hand finds mine. Something isn’t right here.
My dad steps forward, and when he realizes it’s me, his face pales. “Giselle…”
“Dad.”
“Craig,” the woman says, “why is she calling you ‘Dad’?”
“Heather, give us a moment, please.” My dad steps outside, shutting the door behind him.
“Is she…are they…” I can’t even finish my sentence. I’m in shock. Killian’s grip on my hand tightens.
“She is, and they are,” my dad murmurs softly.
Oh my god! He has two kids by a woman who isn’t my mom—his wife. “But you’re still married to mom!”
“Heather and I aren’t married. We’re engaged, though. I was waiting for your mom to get out of the facility before giving her the papers.”
“You knew she was in a facility?” I shout. “Those little boys aren’t babies! And that woman doesn’t even know you have a daughter!”
“Giselle, please let me explain.”
“No! Fuck you, Dad!” I’m about to storm away when I remember the papers I need him to sign. I turn back around and push the contract into his chest. “The house sold. You need to sign these papers, and don’t you dare even think for a second you’re getting a penny. Did you take out the second loan on the mortgage to purchase this place?”
“No, Heather has her own money.” I notice he doesn’t explain what he did take the money out for. At this point, though, it doesn’t matter. I just need him to sign these damn papers so I can deal with what he left behind.
“Just sign the papers,” I tell him.
He nods once.
Knowing how upset I am, Killian goes with my dad to get the papers notarized while I wait in his car. When they return, my dad tries to speak to me, but I refuse. He made his choice, and clearly he’s having no problem living with it.
“Do not bring those divorce papers to mom to sign,” I say before he walks away. “Send them to me, and when she’s healthy enough, I’ll tell her the man she married is a lying, cheating, asshole.”
Dad looks like he wants to say something, but I don’t give him a chance. “Don’t ever contact any of us again. As far as I’m concerned you’re no longer part of our family…not that you’ve been for a long time.” I roll up my window and wait for Killian to get in.
I try to tell him I’d like to be dropped off at my place, but in typical Killian-fashion, he ignores me completely. Once we’re inside his place and changed into comfier clothes, he pulls me into his side on the couch.
“It feels like today has been the never-ending day.” I laugh humorlessly.
He lifts me into his lap and kisses me tenderly. “How about I make you forget about today?”
“That sounds like a damn good idea to me.”
Killian kisses me harder this time, his fingers reaching up and pinching my nipples. My fingers thread through the strands of his hair. We kiss for God knows how long, getting lost in each other. Eventually, he carries me into his room and lays me on the bed. We remove each other’s clothes and then he spreads my legs and enters me slowly. He makes love to me several times, successfully making me forget the craziness of today.
Twenty-Three
Killian
“Damn, I don’t wa
nt to pat my own back, but this sleeve is going to look fresh as hell when it’s done. Shit, it already does.” Jase turns the gun off and the buzzing sound immediately stops. He brings a handheld mirror down to my arm so I can see the new work he’s added. He’s right. It looks damn good. What started out as a tattoo of my college team football helmet has turned into an entire collage of my career. From my NFL team logo to the numerals from the super bowl we won last year. Today, though, I had him add in something more personal. The quote on the back of the heart I gave Giselle on Valentine’s Day has been artfully wrapped around my bicep and woven through several of my other tattoos. I know it’s only been a couple weeks since we made this thing we have going on between us official, but I can feel it. She’s it for me.
My phone rings, so I pull it out of my pocket while Jase rubs Vaseline across the new artwork. The caller ID shows it’s my brother.
“Hey, bro, what’s up?”
“I have news on Melanie.” Damn, straight to the point. The other night while lying in bed, Giselle mentioned again that maybe I should find Melanie to get some closure. So, the following night when she said she had to work late and couldn’t come over, I went over to my brother’s place for dinner and told him everything. And like I knew he would, he agreed I needed closure and told me he would get Melanie’s contact info.
“All right.”
“She’s living in North Carolina…Cedar Wood Acres.”
“She’s back living where we went to school?” It would make sense since she once told me she grew up there, but it’s weird to imagine her back after she made it a point to run away from that very same place all those years ago. She even went as far as to drop out of school just to get away.