Page 10

Seven

Present

“ O k, time to come clean.”

I startle and turn to face Nora.

“What?”

“You’ve been so…off lately,” she says, watching me carefully.

I slash my hand through the air dismissively. “Nonsense.”

Her eyes narrow as she brushes her red locks over her shoulder. “Dr. R, come on. What’s up?”

A deep sigh rushes from my mouth. “Honestly, Nora, nothing.”

Nora sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, mulling over my response. “Was it the date?”

I blow out a breath, then grin at her. “The date was a bust. I’m too chicken to tell Aubry, though.”

Nora giggles. Liam blows in through the center doors, and, blissfully, Nora is distracted. Liam, in all his intense brooding, stalks right up to us and wraps Nora in a possessive hug. She melts into him.

“Liam,” I say. He raises his chin at me in greeting before looking back down at her, all admiration and barely hidden affection.

“Secret’s safe with me,” Nora says, “I won’t tell Aubry anything.”

I grab my bag from the floor. “Thank you. Let’s just hope she doesn’t try again,” I say, hoping my tone is playful.

“You deserve love,” Nora calls to me as I head out. My stomach clenches. A pang of grief sweeps through me.

I stop and glance at her over my shoulder. “Thank you,” I say.

At home, after situating Flash with food and ample outdoor time, I pull another page from the stack and read it.

I don’t have long.

I have a standing appointment in an hour.

I find with so much time on my hands that I miss things. I have entirely too much time to remember, to think, to look back and wonder—or regret. I miss the sound of your pen scratching paper. Of your wise and watchful eyes.

The pink tint to your cheeks when you tried to hide your arousal. At night, in the solitude of sleep, I picture you that very first time I had you.

In our session that day, you tried to get me to acknowledge right and wrong. I watched you trying so hard to show me the boundaries and to willingly step inside them, and I toyed with you. Pushing your buttons on purpose. Playing the game. Cut and dry, black and white—is there even such a thing?

I did it just to get a rise out of you. To watch your cheeks redden with frustration.

To see the blood pound in your veins. For the elite feeling that I, alone, got your blood rushing.

In the moment it felt good. I brimmed with pride.

But as you ushered me out of your office, I was hit by a wave of…

being underwhelmed. Getting a rise out of you simply wasn’t going to satisfy the itch and I made a rash decision.

The office door swung wide with my force, slapping the opposite wall. I had to see how far I could take it.

How far I was willing to go.

How far you were willing to go.

Our two worlds collided. Whether it was an ending or a beginning, I had no way of knowing, and as you know, I like being in the know. I took hold of the lacy collar of your shirt and pulled you to me.

Robin, there was fire in those eyes, framed with heavy black lashes, as I barely pressed my lips to yours. I could taste the hesitation on your lips; the taboo desire.

That taste…it was incredible.

Thoughts twisted in my head as I kissed you.

I wanted to watch you with someone else.

I wanted to see how they gave you pleasure, how you accepted it. I wanted to be that man (or woman) as well.

I wanted to watch but also to participate. Such a foreign feeling for me then. I became insatiable, but I knew you would need to be eased into my fantasy world. I knew I needed to coddle you. Create the illusion of safety. There were already too many hurdles. Patient/ Doctor. Mid-Forties/Thirty.

And one we never anticipated.

You shoved me. Forcefully. Passionately, away from you.

Your chest heaved. You’re breasts straining the blouse you wore. I can recall every detail of that moment. Fear coursed through me. Would this be the end?

Would you lecture me about boundaries, appropriateness, and the like, before shutting the door in my face and never speaking to me again?

I walk through the sterile halls of the psychiatric facility, the faint scent of antiseptic mixing with the dull hum of fluorescent lights.

It’s been years since I’ve been here, but it feels like no time at all.

My heart tightens with every step, every echo of my shoes on the linoleum floor.

I know exactly where I’m going, even though the path feels unfamiliar.

The last time I came to visit Amelia, she wasn’t as medicated. I remember her eyes—so full of life, before they dulled.

Now, the quiet droning of the staff and the muffled sounds of distant voices are the only things that fill the space between me and her room.

I stop just outside the door, my breath catching in my chest. I know she’s in there. I know what I’ll find: Amelia, sitting in that chair by the window, her body frail, eyes glassy.

She’s lost so much weight. There’s a dullness to her that wasn’t there before. The girl who used to sparkle with life, the girl who was always so bright and untouchable, is gone.

She’s just… a shadow now.

I knock softly.

There’s no response, not even a twitch. But I know she hears me. She always did, even when she didn’t show it.

I open the door slowly, stepping inside. The room is quiet, save for the soft hum of machinery that monitors her condition. She’s medicated to the point where her eyes are unfocused, her lips parted slightly as if she’s dreaming.

But she’s not. She’s not dreaming; she’s just existing.

That’s what they’ve reduced her to—existing.

I sit down next to her, careful not to disturb her.

She smells like sterile linens and antiseptic, but underneath it, there’s a trace of her perfume—the one she used to wear when we were in college.

It’s the faintest whisper of who she once was.

I wonder who’s visited her, who brought her perfume and applied it.

“Amelia,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been thinking about you… about everything.”

She doesn’t respond. She never does.

“It’s not fair.” The words come out hoarse, edged with all the bitterness I’ve been suffocating on for months.

I swallow hard, my eyes burning with unshed tears.

“I understand now,” I say, my voice cracking a little.

“I think I understand why you did what you did, why you stayed with him. I understand falling for someone… someone who’s wrong, someone who can’t love the way they should because their love is tainted.

Their needs are twisted, and you believe in them anyway.

You convince yourself that if you give them everything, they’ll change.

They’ll become the person you hope for.”

I pause, my hands trembling slightly in my lap.

“I used to judge you, Amelia. I used to think that you were weak, that you didn’t know better, but I was wrong.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t understand.

I couldn’t. I couldn’t have known, not until I—” I break off, my chest aching with the weight of the confession I’m finally able to make.

“Not until I fell for someone who wasn’t capable of love either. ”

The words hang in the air, heavy and unresolved. I want to tell her more, to spill out every regret, every realization that’s come to me in the years since I’ve been coming here, but I can’t.

She can’t hear it, not now. Not when she’s so far gone.

“I kept your secret, Amelia. I kept it because I thought you’d be okay.

I thought you had control. I thought you would walk away from him on your own, but you didn’t.

And I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t even try.

I let you disappear, and I let them do this to you.

I let you become this version of yourself…

someone who doesn’t even recognize her own reflection. ”

A single tear escapes, slipping down my cheek, but I wipe it away quickly, determined not to break down in front of her. She’s been through so much. She doesn’t need to see me weak, not now.

“I could’ve saved you, I know that now. I could’ve told them.

I should’ve told them where you were. I should’ve called the police, even if you begged me not to.

Maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe…

just maybe, this wouldn’t have been your reality.

You wouldn’t be here, medicated, lost to the world. I’m so sorry. I failed you.”

I press my palms together, my fingers digging into my skin. The guilt surges like a tidal wave. The weight of the years without her has been unbearable, and I wish—God, I wish I could go back and change everything. I wish I could have saved her.

But the past is set. It’s done. Amelia is a broken shell, and there’s nothing I can do to fix her. I wonder if she’ll ever know how much I wish I could’ve saved her, if she’ll ever understand how sorry I am. How she shaped my life in so many different ways.

“I understand now, Amelia. I understand how it feels to lose yourself to someone who doesn’t deserve you. I understand how you thought you could fix him, change him, save him with your love… but it doesn’t work that way, does it? Some people aren’t capable of love. Not the way we need them to be.”

I reach out and take her hand. It lies limp in mine, warm but unresponsive. I take a deep breath, steadying myself before I speak again.

“I won’t make the same mistake again. I won’t stand by and let someone destroy themselves like you did. I won’t let myself drown in the illusion of love when it’s really just a desire to be wanted.” The words sit between us like static, buzzing in the fluorescent overhead light.

I sit with her in silence for a long time, the only sound in the room my shaky breath and the soft hum of the machines. I wish I could do more. I wish I could make it all better. But I can’t. I just can’t.

And so, I leave her there—this girl I failed, this girl who was once my best friend.