Loving a Wildflower

by Amanda Torrey

  She clenched her knees together tightly, putting her free hand on her flat stomach as she took a deep breath.

  “I had my first manic episode when I was eighteen. My sisters had always complained about my mood swings, but Mom thought it was normal teen stuff and part of my sensitive nature. She told me all good empaths experienced emotion that way.

  “When I was a senior in high school, one of my friends talked me into joining the prom planning committee. I loved the planning—had tons of ideas for decorating, music lists, food. Everything. I started working on the plans all day. Didn’t sleep. Had charts all over the place. I probably changed the theme fifty times, and I’m not exaggerating. The rest of the committee kind of dropped off. They couldn’t keep up with me and I wouldn’t accept any help. It had to be perfect, and only I could make it that way.

  “After all that planning, I couldn’t bring all the ideas to fruition. I was all over the place. Started to place the food order, but got distracted with ordering balloons and flowers. Started making decorations, decided to make the perfect dress instead. I always felt like there’d be more time. My ideas came so fast, so fractured, that I couldn’t keep track of them.

  “The night before the prom, I went to sleep and refused to get up. I stayed in my room for a full week. Refused to shower. Refused to talk to anyone—even my sisters. Refused to eat. Didn’t go to school. How could I face everyone after I ruined the prom?”

  Ethan reached out and squeezed her knee, waiting for her to continue.

  “My mother finally recognized my symptoms and said her aunt had similar difficulties. She talked me into going to the hospital. It was horrible, Ethan. They tied me to the bed. Put me on four different medications. I became a zombie. Had no creative thoughts. Became paranoid. When my mom managed to get me out, I thought I should end my life, that I couldn’t live that way. Mom took us to a lake house—more of a shack, really—in Maine for the summer, where she encouraged me to spend all of my time in nature. She weaned me off the medication and we shopped at farmer’s markets. I learned how to recognize my mood issues. I learned to embrace the depths of my emotions and to direct them toward doing good.

  “I haven’t had another breakdown like that until now. I should have recognized it—Freedom tried to warn me. I was doing too much too fast. The ideas took over my life again. I got caught up in them, and in you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”

  Ethan lifted her chin to make her look at him. “I’ve been through hell and back, and I can honestly say that the worst thing I’ve experienced to date is thinking I drove you away for good.”

  He caught her tears with his thumb.

  “You’ll never see beyond my bipolar.”

  “I’ll never see beyond your gorgeous blue eyes and your even more beautiful heart, because I won’t be looking anywhere else. Well, I’ll be looking at other parts of you, but I can assure you that this aspect of you is not a negative.”

  “You are such a good man, Ethan.”

  “Only because of you.”

  She shook her head.

  “I could see it more clearly than others, since you did such a good job of hiding it away, but your goodness was there long before I came along, and will remain even if you can’t accept me in your life.”

  “Simplicity, it would be my honor to have you in my life. Besides, Oscar says you have to take me.”

  She laughed, and he wished he could record the magical sound and replace his heartbeat with the lilting laughter so he could hear it with every breath.

  He leaned forward to touch his nose to hers.

  “You always do your best to take care of everyone around you. I want to be the one to take care of you.”

  “You say that now, Ethan, but—”

  “I’ll say that always.”

  She closed her eyes, resting her forehead against his. Their breath mingled into one delirious cloud, but the only storm that brewed was the kind that would water the seeds they had planted all along. The storm that would create the landscape of their future.

  “You’ll resent me.”

  Her small voice made his heart ache. How could she not understand her value? How could she not see that she was the one most likely to resent him?

  “Not a chance. I will worship you the way you deserve to be worshipped.”

  “Do you really think we could make this work?”

  “No doubt. No doubt at all.”

  Oscar meowed and demanded love, which Simplicity eagerly showered upon him.

  “Freedom told me how you were with me.”

  She refused to look at him, gazing at the cat instead.

  “She said you were protective, concerned. She also said you made the call to have me brought here.”

  Shit. He hadn’t thought of the repercussions of having her taken to the hospital, he had only thought about what would happen if he didn’t. But now it was time to face the consequences of his decision.

  “Simplicity, I had to do it. I couldn’t stand the thought of you being lost like that—you needed treatment. As much as it pissed you off, I’d do it again.”

  She brought her hand to his cheek and stared, unblinking, into his determined eyes.

  “Good. I needed it, and you made sure I got what I needed. Thank you.”

  He inhaled deeply, placing his hand over hers to hold it on his face.

  “I was afraid you’d hate me.”

  “Yet you made the right decision, anyway. That tells me a lot about the kind of man you are.”

  He kissed her palm. He prayed he’d have a lifetime of kissing every part of her. Of watching her sleep and making her breakfast. Of helping her manage her moods and of frolicking in the fucking woods—if that’s what helped her. Of working his ass off to be the man she needed. The best man he could be.

  “Simplicity…” His voice trailed off. How could he say what he needed to say?

  Her gentle gaze and serene smile gave him the courage he hadn’t been able to find in all the time since returning from Afghanistan.

  “I need help, too. I know I’ve been handling myself all wrong, and you’ve paid the price. I want to get better.”

  She smiled, then climbed into his lap, careful to rest her legs away from Oscar, who purred at the union.

  Guess the cat approved.

  “I have to meet with the doctor to put together a treatment plan before they discharge me. Will you stay and help me with my plan?”

  With her butt nestled against him, could he deny her anything?

  He nodded, unable to speak over the ball of possibility clogging his throat.

  She rewarded him with a slow, sensual kiss. The kind of kiss that reminded him that he was capable of not only loving this woman more than he loved anything else in the universe, but also that he was capable of feeling things he thought had been killed in the torture.

  “Mmm,” she leaned into him, pressing her breasts into his chest. “Your buddy down there is telling me he missed me.”

  Ethan groaned and nibbled her lip.

  “I can’t wait to get you home.”

  “I like when your voice is all raw like that.”

  “I’ll show you raw…”

  The nurse interrupted their happy reunion to let Simplicity know the doctor was ready to see her.

  Not being able to finish what they had started was worse than anything else Ethan had ever endured.

  But the anticipation of bringing her home was sweeter than anything he had ever enjoyed, too.

  His feelings around Simplicity were complex, indeed.

  “Sorry, love birds, but you won’t be able to smuggle that cat by Dr. Reggario. He’s allergic.”

  Simplicity laughed. The nurse held her hands out for the bag. Ethan handed the cat over.

  “I have a patient down the hall who would be happy to hide the cat in her room while you meet with the doctor. Just make sure you smuggle him back out before you leave…”

  “We can trust Aleen. She�
��s my new BFF, you know.” Simplicity smiled at the nurse, who nodded her agreement. “My mission when I leave here is to hook her up with someone wonderful. She’s single and ready to change that.”

  “Alrighty then—I think I hear the doctor calling.” Aleen laughed at Simplicity’s outspokenness.

  Ethan pretended not to notice how embarrassed the nurse became. She seemed like a decent human, and he was thankful for the nurse’s kind intervention with the cat and with Simplicity.

  The doctor greeted them without looking up from his desk.

  When he did look up, he didn’t seem surprised to see Ethan holding Simplicity’s hand.

  He gestured for the pair to sit, and Ethan dragged his chair closer to Simplicity’s, unable to endure even a few inches of distance.

  The doctor removed his glasses and placed them on the desk as he introduced himself.

  “Mr. Witherford, are you familiar with bipolar disorder? Formerly known as manic depression?”

  Ethan nodded, but admitted that he had a lot to learn.

  The doctor gave him an overview, pointing out how Simplicity might cycle, signs to watch for, ways to intervene.

  “I want you both to be aware that up to ninety percent of marriages involving a spouse with bipolar illness end in divorce.”

  Ethan looked at Simplicity, who studied her lap.

  “I love a good challenge.”

  She lifted her head and smiled.

  “I don’t want to put you through this, Ethan.”

  Ethan turned to the doctor.

  “Dr. Reggario, now that you’ve educated me on bipolar, would you please share some information on post traumatic stress, and the difficulties of living with a stubborn, pain-in-the-ass veteran?”

  Dr. Reggario cleared his throat, but he smiled.

  “I’d be happy to.”

  Ethan listened intently, happy to learn more about the baggage he carried.

  “I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that the divorce rate for couples struggling to deal with a veteran with PTSD is staggeringly high, as well.”

  It was Ethan’s turn to worry that Simplicity wouldn’t be able to deal with the odds that continued to be stacked between them, threatening to topple over and destroy them both.

  Her angelic smile intensified as she looked at him, easing his worries with her serenity.

  “I love a good challenge.”

  Her use of his previously mentioned promise felt like a vow.

  When it came time for the treatment plan, Dr. Reggario drew a line down the center of a piece of paper.

  “Since you’re both struggling to manage different symptoms, we’ll set up a plan that holds you both accountable.”

  “Simplicity, I’d like you to continue to take your mood stabilizers for a while, at least until you’ve learned and practiced your coping skills for a period of time with a new therapist.”

  Simplicity nodded her agreement.

  “As we’ve talked about in our sessions, you can also use a nutritious diet and exercise as part of your treatment plan, and this will lessen the amount of medication you’ll rely on.”

  “We can exercise together,” Ethan said, pleased when the doctor scribbled his words onto the treatment plan. Ethan leaned over to whisper in Simplicity’s ear. “Trainings will be delicious.”

  She giggled.

  Together, they spent another twenty minutes coming up with ways to manage stress. (He had some extra ideas, but he decided to keep them private so as not to embarrass Simplicity in front of the doctor. He firmly intended to share them with her once they were home.) They discussed each other’s signs of decompensation, and devised ways to honor the needs of the other respectfully.

  When they had completed the plan to the doctor’s specifications, the doctor requested that Simplicity stay for the afternoon group session. She reluctantly agreed.

  Ethan shook the doctor’s hand and asked for a referral to a good therapist for himself, too.

  Damn, it felt good to acknowledge his shortcomings and to make a plan for addressing them.

  “Are you scared now that you’ve heard all about the horrors of bipolar?” Simplicity asked as they walked down the hall, toward the nurse’s station.

  He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, loving the way she laughed as she nearly lost her balance.

  “Are you kidding? We’re more alike than I realized.”

  They walked in silence, and neither of them moved fast. They quietly retrieved the cat from the nurse who had assisted them, and Ethan pretended not to notice the nurse urging him to leave.

  Simplicity reached into the bag to scratch Oscar’s head.

  “Thanks for coming in, Ethan. And thank you for bringing Oscar. I’ve missed you both.”

  “You’ll never have to miss us again.”

  He didn’t like the way she hesitated. The way she looked away, chewing her lip as if holding back a thought.

  “Simplicity… look at me.”

  She flashed her eyes upward, but quickly looked away again.

  “Everything okay?”

  “I’ve got to get packing. Thanks again for coming in.”

  “I’m not leaving things like this. I thought everything was worked out in the meeting…”

  “It was.” She toyed with the bracelet, carelessly twisting the beads around her wrist. “Just something—I don’t know what—but something doesn’t feel right.”

  “With us?”

  “Sort of. This whole thing. It just feels too easy. Know what I mean?”

  “No. I don’t. Nothing about us has been easy.”

  “Don’t be mad.”

  He closed his eyes, head pointed toward the ceiling. When he could trust his tone to be level, he made eye contact again, skydiving into her dusky blues.

  “I’m not mad.”

  He reached out and pulled her closer to him, shushing Oscar when he meowed an objection.

  “I’ll be back this evening. Be ready to eat something delicious. No more hospital food for you.”

  Why did a tear run down her cheek?

  He captured it, hoping her tears would soon be behind her for good.

  “Are you sure you’re ready to leave here?”

  She nodded.

  “I’ve got to go.”

  She kissed his cheek and walked away, disappearing around a corner as the door buzzed to let him out.

  He made reservations for a late dinner at a popular vegan restaurant in the southern part of the state, but even as he left his name, he had a feeling they wouldn’t make it.

  ***

  Once again, Ethan’s instincts proved to be dead on.

  His shitty luck in life proved to be intact, as well.

  He had known pulling into the hospital lot that something horrible was going to go down, so when the hospital staff told him Simplicity had already been picked up, he kept his cool.

  She thought things had been too easy? He’d show her that he was willing to work for her love.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Simplicity accepted the afghan Freedom wrapped around her shoulders as she gripped her perfectly-steamed cup of hot cocoa—the kind Freedom made from scratch, not from one of those chemical packets.

  “So tell me, do you not want to be with him because I gave you my blessing? Because, Simplicity, I could pretend to hate him again if it would help.”

  “He doesn’t deserve to be hated.”

  “I saw your treatment plan—you guys sat down together and created a reasonable plan for a future together. So why did you have me pick you up when you had been hoping so much that he would?”

  Simplicity clutched the mug tighter, her shoulders folding in to form a protective barrier between her heart and the rush of emotions threatening to do her in for good.

  “I can’t do it to him, Freedom.”

  “Do what? You’re a catch. You’re beautiful, funny, happy, motivated, cheerful, creative—you’re everything a guy like him needs.”
/>
  “And mentally ill. Don’t leave that part out.”

  “So what? Everyone has something. Besides, you’re working on getting a handle on it. You’re always working on making yourself better—on turning negatives into positives. Did he give you any indication that he was worried about the bipolar interfering with your relationship?”

  Simplicity hesitated.

  “No.”

  “Then why the hell are you letting this one part of you dictate what you should do in a relationship?”

  A knock at the door prevented Simplicity from answering a question she didn’t know the answer to.

  She perked up. Could it be Ethan? Would he bring himself to the place he felt least secure?

  He had pulled through for her in her time of need—the time when she was least in control of herself.

  Freedom had been amazed at his kindness, his calmness, and his level of loyalty and protectiveness toward Simplicity.

  But was that enough?

  She didn’t want him to change. She just wanted him to let down the walls that would be too easy to build back up between them. She wanted him to go out of his comfort zone to show her that this thing could work.

  “What the heck are you doing here? It’s the middle of the week.”

  Simplicity’s attention went to the door, where her sister, Paisley, stood, holding a heavy-looking suitcase in each hand.

  “I’m moving here. Quit my job. I’ve decided to be a writer.”

  “Okay, funny. You almost had me there.”

  Simplicity bolted out of her seat and threw her arms around her sister’s neck.

  “You’re moving here? This is amazing!”

  “She’s kidding, Simplicity. Paisley would never quit her job.”

  Paisley pushed her way through the door.

  “I’ll rent one of your cottages—you do long-term rentals, right? I won’t stay on your property forever. As soon as I find the right property to purchase, I’ll relocate there.”

  “You just made a terrible week so much better,” Simplicity sighed. “Now all we need is Harmony and life would be complete.”

  Not complete… life would never complete now that she had made the rash decision to cut Ethan out of it. But having her sisters around would help instrumentally.