by Lisa Eugene
Maybe she was angry that I’d walked away, that I’d given up. I was angry at myself for a lot of reasons, and that hovered at the top of my list. I’d known she had a problem and I should’ve forced her to get help. Instead, I did what I’d always done. I’d run away. I’d left. Henry had been right. I’d been terrified of getting hurt again.
Now I savored the deepest hurt.
Trying to come to terms with Alexa’s long history of mental illness was difficult. Her father had said that she’d burned herself, that she’d been troubled. I’d blamed him for all the problems in her life: her obsessive need to be perfect, her harsh self-criticisms, and her distorted body image. Could I’ve been wrong about him? Was that all just part of her psychiatric wiring?
No. I shook my head as I approached the feisty receptionist. I didn’t doubt, that in his own twisted way, Mr. Kennedy loved his daughter, but something didn’t feel right. I would bet that he’d played an integral role in her psychiatric decline.
Why hadn’t she confided in me? Why hadn’t she told me about her past, her hospitalization? Before I’d even finished the questions, I’d already guessed the answers. She’d been afraid, afraid of what I’d think, of how I’d judge her. There was a huge social stigma with mental illness. I remembered all the times I’d told Henry that I didn’t want to date crazy women. Shit. I might’ve even said something like that to Stats at one point.
The entire ordeal forced me to face my own ideas and stigmas about mental illness. Stats had some real issues. Depression. Bulimia, issues with her body, and God knew what else was at the end of the paths in her head. But she was more than those things. She was smartas-a-whip, passionate. A girl whose humor made me laugh my ass off at times. She was a complex woman with many facets, a brilliant gem with her own unique sparkle. Wherever those paths in her brain led, I wanted to be there at the end of the road.
“Hi, Loretta.” I smiled at the receptionist. I’d come to know her over the past week.
She sighed and rolled her eyes, but I could see a teasing glint in their depths. “You again?”
“Am I on the list yet?”
“Let’s see, Lover Boy.” She stretched out her hands and cracked her knuckles, staring intently at the screen, looking like she was about to hack into the Pentagon. With a serious face, she started typing. A minute later, she looked up, her eyes apologetic. “Sorry.”
I tried not to give into disappointment or acknowledge the ache sliding under my breast bone.
“You want me to ask her?”
I nodded, watching hopefully as Loretta rose from her seat. She made her way down the hall, making the visitors behind me wait. Stats had been moved to a step-down unit. It was torture knowing she was just meters away. A few minutes later, Loretta came back. I could tell by her facial expression that nothing had changed.
“Sorry, Lover Boy. She said no.”
My emotions capsized, sinking slowly.
“See you tomorrow.”
Loretta probably thought I was pathetic, coming every day, only to be told the same thing. Alexa didn’t want me here. She pushed me away, her rejection an effective gate. I sighed, rubbing my knuckles into my palm.
Maybe I should accept that. Maybe she was doing me a favor. She had extensive psychiatric problems. The surgeon himself had said her recovery was going to be a long haul, that she could need a lifetime of treatment. Did I understand the scope, the magnitude of what that meant? Did I know what I was getting myself into? Was I willing to deal with all of it? Me? A man who’d spent the last five years running from women with the slightest issues? Who’d watched his wife die? Did I need more pain and uncertainty in my life? Should I walk away?
I’d never been fortunate enough to have the people I’ve loved be a permanent part of my life. Like a ruthless thief, fate inevitably stole them from me. I’d come to accept that—to expect that. Being with Alexa made me want things I thought I had no right wanting—a wife, a family, love—things I never thought I could have. It would be easy for me to walk away, to rationalize this loss. But God, I wanted those things. I wanted Alexa.
And I was willing to fight viciously, even unfairly, to keep her. So, yeah, I would come back tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that. I wasn’t giving up. No matter how much it killed me to hear her rejection, I wasn’t letting fate rob me of a life with her.
China.
There was a reason I’d missed that plane. It was to save Alexa, because she’d saved me. We were meant to be together. We needed each other.
I’d run into her parents two days before, when I’d stopped by to drop off her glasses. Mr. Kennedy had ignored me. Mrs. Kennedy had shot me a look of shy acknowledgment before quickly averting her gaze.
Trying to push back the disappointment chewing me up, I made my way to the elevator. The doors slid open. Tina, John, and Monika stepped out, and I couldn’t rein in my surprise at seeing them.
“Dex!” Tina approached, her eyes wide with horror. She flung her arms around me. “Oh my God! We just heard. We’ve all been away for the break. It’s horrible. How’s she doing?”
My body stiffened. I wasn’t sure what they’d been told. Alexa was a stickler regarding her privacy. One of the reasons she’d resisted getting treatment was the worry of the damage to her career if word ever got out. I stepped back, sinking my hands into the pockets of my jeans.
“We were worried about her after what happened at school,” John said, his forehead pleated with concern. “I tried to call her a few times.”
I opened my mouth to answer Tina when John’s words hit me. I frowned. “Something happened at school?”
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end when they all exchanged a cautious look.
“She was expelled,” Monika informed me softly.
Thinking I misheard her, I blinked dumbly. I gulped in air and stood silent for a few heartbeats, replaying her impossible words.
“It was right before break,” John explained. “We still can’t believe it.”
Tina wrung her fingers. “Dr. Leon found stolen equipment in her locker. A few months ago some—”
“I know what happened a few months ago. And Alexa didn’t have a damn thing to do with it!” I snorted angrily.
“We know that,” John agreed. “Someone set her up. She’d never do such a thing.”
“Our school has zero tolerance for stuff like that,” Monika added.
“Do you know anything about what happened?” I asked.
Tina shook her head. “Just that Dr. Leon was informed by another student that Alexa was planning on selling the equipment.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This was disastrous. The image of an unscrupulous, troublemaking blonde came to mind. My eyes narrowed and my angry gaze turned on Tina. “What day was she expelled?”
“A few days before Christmas. The Wednesday before, I believe.”
Cannons fired in my head, shooting troubling realizations. That had been the day we’d fought, the day I’d planned to propose. I’d walked out. She’d tried to take her life. Why hadn’t she said anything? My shoulders slumped as I sighed with stinging regret. I hadn’t given her a chance. I’d been too angry to listen to anything she’d had to say.
“Is she doing okay?” John asked.
They all seemed to sense the violence crashing through my system. I forced myself to calm, needing to get the story.
“How did you know Stats—Alexa was in the hospital?”
“We got an e-mail from the school saying that one of our former classmates had a medical emergency and was admitted here. We were asked to pray for her and her family,” Tina said, tears filling her eyes. “Who else could it’ve been? There’s a rumor that she’s bulimic and had a complication. Although the Office of the Deans would never confirm it. That’s all we know.”
“I see.” They didn’t know about the suicide attempt. That was probably for the best.
“We were devastated to hear the news,” Monika s
aid. “How’s she doing?”
“Better,” I answered vaguely. Truthfully, that was all I knew. I cleared my throat. “I haven’t seen her.”
Tina hooked her short brown hair behind her ears and frowned. “Why not?”
I shrugged my shoulders, not wanting to get into it. “She won’t see me.” At her continued confusion, I added, “It’s complicated.”
They all nodded as though I’d clarified things, but still looked puzzled. Hell, so was I. The elevator dinged and I stepped in, waving goodbye before they could make more inquiries. My mind raced, my heart along with it. Expelled from medical school. Christ! That had been Stats’ life.
Please let me go…
No, Alexa.
Please, Daddy. I promise I’ll stop.
You have not yet learned your lesson.
I don’t want to do this…
You must confront this darkness inside you.
Alexa
“We don’t want to tire you out,” Tina whispered from where she was perched on the edge of my bed.
I nodded mutely. My glasses slipped down my nose and I adjusted them with a finger. The last half hour had been an awkward back-and-forth of stilted conversation and circuitous dialogue. We all avoided the elephant in the room, which was fine by me. I, myself, would’ve liked to put the beast down with a tranquilizer gun. I was sick of people trying to get me to talk, to share my feelings. The old fossil of a psychiatrist who visited every day was starting to piss me off. I felt like a germ in a Petri dish. Everyone watched, waited, took notes.
I flicked my gaze between my friends. Not even with my mother had I ever had such superficial exchanges. I didn’t have much to say. John seemed shell-shocked. Monika was fidgety and nervous, and Tina looked worse than I did. I expected her to burst into tears at any moment. Her gaze kept landing on my bandaged wrists and the attendant stationed like a sentry not far from my bed. I could see the questions circling in her head, but it was none of her business. I didn’t owe any of them an explanation.
It was kind of them to visit. I tried my best to tamp down my hostility. I listened silently as they recounted what they’d done over the holiday break. It was difficult to rally enthusiasm. I was hollow and empty, everything inside scraped out. What was left was a brittle shell that would fracture at the slightest pressure.
“We’re not even back one day before Dr. Leon—” John halted suddenly. His eyes shifted with apology. “I’m sorry, Alexa. I didn’t mean to mention his name.”
I shrugged, recapturing his gaze. Out of curiosity, I asked, “Have you heard anything…you know, about my expulsion, and the stolen equipment?”
Firming his lips, he shook his head. “No. Naturally, everyone’s shocked. From what I’ve heard, everything’s been recovered.”
I could imagine the news that had undoubtedly rippled through the medical school. It was a big deal for a student to be expelled. Scandalous. This would be ample fodder for gossip and speculation. My parents had already arranged for a meeting with Dr. Leon. I wasn’t hopeful. I’d told them not to waste their time. What did all of it matter now, anyway?
“Alexa, I hope you know that we don’t think you’re responsible,” Monika said earnestly. “We know you’d never do such a thing.”
“Thank you.” I looked at the clock on the wall, hoping they’d get the message.
Tina stood, shrugging into her coat. “We ran into Dex on the way in.”
She’d said it matter-of-factly, but just the mention of Dex’s name kicked a dent in my shell. I blinked, staring mutely at her, trying not to react, trying to keep the tremor from my limbs.
“Oh?”
She traded a glance with Monika.
“He said he hadn’t seen you. He seemed pretty concerned.”
I kept staring, trying to figure out if Dex had put them up to this. Were they sent to plead his case? Whether they were or not, I wasn’t about to discuss him with them. Just the thought of him had pain and guilt pounding like hooves through my head.
“Thanks for letting me know. Goodbye.”
The dismissal in my voice was unmistakable, my tone a full stop, ending this topic. My head throbbed now. I wanted them to leave. I wanted to be left alone—well, as alone as someone who was constantly observed could be.
They dispensed tight hugs and promised to visit again soon. I watched them leave, praying that they wouldn’t come back. Ignoring the attendant, I put my head on my pillow and curled into a tight ball. My body shook. I fought the tears, but lost the battle. They spilled from my heart, a wretched, broken place. A smaller empty shell inside a larger one, a useless nucleus. Pulling the covers over my head, I wept until the darkness of sleep finally came.
Dex
Linda cancelled my business trips. Henry sent regrets and took care of the obligations that didn’t demand my immediate attention. I shut myself in my office and dunked my head in work. My staff was wise enough to give me a wide berth, and even Henry skirted the fringes of my acrimony.
Sleep was almost impossible. Stats and I had slept together every night when I wasn’t traveling. She was imprinted in my bed, her shape seared into my body. Her scent lingered to tease my nose and drive me mad. The absence of her wreaked havoc on my senses and filled me with nothing but longing.
I wrapped myself up at night, twisting the sheet around my naked body and between my legs. It wasn’t the same without her arms around me.
Why wouldn’t she let me in? Had she lied about her feelings for me? Had I gotten that all wrong?
Angry, I pushed back from my desk and swiveled in my chair, looking out over New York City. I scrubbed my eyes with my thumb and forefinger, trying to rub away my fatigue. I wasn’t surprised when they came away damp. I was having a tough time.
It was just after six p.m. and the city buzzed with activity. My office was quiet, everyone gone for the day. I turned my attention to the pile of papers on my desk and sighed, knowing I wouldn’t get much done tonight. I was too distracted, too lost in my thoughts, too on edge. I shrugged into my jacket and headed home.
I was walking through my lobby when my doorman stopped me, informing me that I had a visitor waiting. Looking around the marble entrance, it was hard to see through the evening rush of people coming and going. I was about to question him when the crowd parted and Stats stepped forward.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Dex
I had to blink hard. I blinked again and Mrs. Kennedy was standing in my lobby. Not Stats. To say I was surprised would’ve been an understatement. As I watched her wring her hands nervously, I grew more and more curious about her unexpected visit.
“I’m sorry to impose on you at your home,” she said as I approached.
“It’s not a problem.”
“I’d like to talk to you about Alexa.”
I nodded, my chest tightening just at the mention of Stats’ name. I shuffled my gaze around the bustling lobby. “Let’s head up to my apartment where we can have some privacy.”
A few minutes later, we walked into my living room. I cringed inwardly at the disarray. Things had deteriorated over the last few weeks. Without preamble, she pivoted to face me, not seeming to notice or care.
“I—we—never got a chance to thank you for saving Alexa, for being there that night.”
I nodded, but her words adjusted my memories to a sharp focus. The images sickened me. I knew pain was plain on my face.
“I know we haven’t exactly made things easy for you.”
I started to respond and she raised a hand, stopping my words.
“No, please. Hear me out. If there’s one thing this ordeal has taught me, it’s that I’ve held my tongue for too long. I know you care about my daughter. I saw the look on your face when we were discussing her…mental health…with the surgeon.” She took a deep breath, her gaze direct.
This woman surprised me. Her shrinking, almost submissive demeanor was replaced with a rigorous determination. Grief darkened her eyes, but beneath it was
strength and courage, an awakened vitality I knew was fueled by her love for her daughter.
“I don’t want you to give up on her,” she continued. “I don’t want you to judge her unfairly. She’s had a tough life. She’s been through a lot. My husband can be quite rigid and exacting…I dare say even unreasonable at times.”
I had to stop myself from nodding in agreement. I stood patiently, allowing her to say what she needed to say. I knew it had taken a lot for her to come here.
“We’ve always encouraged Alexa to do her best. Perhaps we pushed her too hard. It’s difficult to do your best when you’re made to believe that your best is never good enough,” she sighed. “She was fourteen when we noticed she’d been cutting herself. We saw sharp slashes on her forearms and thighs. We were shocked, disturbed by the behavior, not sure even what to make of it. She promised over and over again that she’d stop…but she didn’t.”
Mrs. Kennedy turned, her gaze landing somewhere outside my windows into the dark night. She looked like a statue, still swaddled in her heavy coat. Her voice broke. She cleared her throat and continued.
“I pleaded with my husband to get her help, but he refused. He was afraid of the stigma, of what people would think…of the disgrace. He thought she was doing it for attention, said he could handle it himself…with discipline.”
The muscles in my body grew so taut that I thought my spine would snap. “What type of discipline?”
She turned her gaze on me, eyes glassy. It was a full minute before she responded. “You have to understand that we love our daughter. Alexa’s father tried everything to get through to her. Nothing worked. We found more and more cuts. At one point she had them all over her body. My husband was livid. He would beat her, bind her hands, lock her in the closet for hours, or her room—leave her to contemplate, to meditate, to gain self-control.