Page 70 of Frankie and the Fed

He finishes eating and checks messages on his phone. “Your parents scheduled an appointment with Dr. Sullivan in an hour. Get ready. I’ll take you.”

“So now they’re talking to me through you?” I don’t know why, but it makes me angry. He smiles, and that makes me angrier, so I get up and leave the kitchen.

“Angry is good,” he calls after me.

* * *

The familiar gray sofa was replaced by a brown one, and for a moment, it confuses me. It throws me off balance.

“It was time for a new couch,” Dr. Sullivan notes when he sees my hesitation. “How are you?”

“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly. “Yesterday was a hard day.”

“And today?”

“I’m not sure. I’m confused. Yesterday, I wanted to kill myself. I looked at the sleeping pills you gave me, and I wanted to take them all.” The tears come again, and he hands me the tissue box. I can no longer count how many times he’s handed me this box.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I’ve been practicing what we talked about. Not acting in the heat of the moment. Waiting. Talking to someone.”

“And you talked to someone?”

I shake my head. “I couldn’t. But I waited for the morning.”

He nods. “And in the morning, did you still feel like taking those pills?”

“Ethan came back.”

Dr. Sullivan looks at me, and I explain what happened.

“He flew to New York and returned within a day?”

I nod. And the doctor writes something in his notebook.

“And you think your improvement has something to do with him?”

“Yes.”

“Where were you when you heard about the story?”

“At the office. I saw the pictures on Claire’s computer.” I take a deep breath. “When I realized what I was seeing, I hid in the bathroom. I stayed there all day.” I’m hot, so I take off my coat and put it on the couch next to me. “You saw the pictures. What do you think? How do you see me now that you’ve seen that?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. What do you think?”

My smile is filled with bitterness. “I couldn’t handle their stares. After everyone left, I drove home.

“And at home, that’s when the suicidal thoughts started?”

I nod and blow my nose. “Well, before that, actually. But when the pills were there in front of me, it was the hardest. I didn’t think there was any hope of going on.”

“But you didn’t take them.”

“No. I mean, I took two. I thought it would help me sleep.”

“So, it was your decision, on your own, not to take the entire bottle.”

I consider what he’s saying. Yes. I dealt with it without talking to anyone, without knowing that Ethan was already on his way back to me.