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Idon’t know what came over her. Her pupils were dilated and she was so hysterical, hitting and clawing at me while shouting so loud I think she might have strained her vocal cords.

I was glad when the medics came and gave her something to calm down. I wasn’t sure I would have been able to hold her any longer, but I was so worried she would hurt herself.

She kept talking about having seen Mara, but I think maybe her concussion was more serious than we thought before. That's why I asked for every scan and check-up possible. I want to make sure she won't have these episodes anymore. My heart broke seeing her like this.

I curse to myself. Just married and already she’s losing it.

I should’ve never left her side that night. I thought they would be fine. A mistake I’ll take full blame for. Never again. I can promise you that, little doe.

“Sir, we just checked the scans, and so far, everything seems well. There’s also no sign of a concussion still being there.”

I look at the doctor angrily.

“So then what? She never behaved like this before,”

I snap back, raising my voice at him.

“We cannot find anyth—”

I get up, the act making the chair fall over, and stand in front of him.

“Then look better,”

I tell him face to face. He gulps for a second and then regains his position before moving away from me.

“Grief can do a lot to a person. Maybe you should consider getting a psychologist. I’ll prescribe her something for her hysteria.”

He closes the door, and I grab the chair out of anger and throw it at the door.

Who the fuck does he think he is? She’s not fucking crazy. I know her, something is not right.

I turn back to where she’s lying. She seems so peaceful now, and I don’t know what to do to keep her that way anymore. If I could bring Mara back, I would, but that's impossible. I tried to make Evelyn and her get along, but she doesn’t even want to try it. Maybe I should invite her over to the house next time. She can’t just shut herself off like this. I won't let her.

“Ryan?”

Her eyes slowly start to flutter open while she's mumbling something I can’t fully understand.

“It’s okay, love, I’m here.”

I keep my hand on top of her head, brushing it with my thumb.

“I really saw her,”

she whispers, unable to keep her eyes open for longer than a couple of seconds.

“I know, love, just rest a little bit more,”

I shush her. She seems content with my answer and stops fighting the sleep that is trying to drag her back down. I had hoped she would have stopped talking about it when she woke up, but maybe I have to look for a psychologist for her so she can deal with this the proper way, since leaving her to mourn by herself clearly isn’t working.

I sit back down on the chair and call Adelina. I briefly looked into her when Mara was still alive and dating her, and I saw that she used to be a psychiatrist in a mental ward before she lost her job and was forced to work in between two minimum wage jobs to get by. I don’t exactly know what happened—everything is pretty sealed and hard to crack—but her boss claims she was abusing her drug prescriptions to her patients. She still claims she's innocent and I believe her. Call it instinct or whatever, it just never made much sense.

“Hello?”

Her soft voice fills the line, and I lower my voice to talk to her so my wife won’t wake up from the noise.

“Hello, Miss Owen. It’s Ryan from the funeral.”

I can hear her moving things around on the line like she's cleaning up or something.

“Oh, hi, Taylor's boyfriend, right?”

She asks me. I’m slightly annoyed by how she referred to me as ‘boyfriend’ instead of husband.

“Husband, actually. I am calling you because I wanted to talk about Taylor. I heard you are a psychiatrist, and Taylor could really use someone to talk to. I’m worried about her outbreaks, and earlier at the cemetery she fainted and then kept saying she saw Mara and then started to freak out,”

I quickly tell her, hoping my little doe isn’t hearing any of it.

“I’m actually not a psychiatrist anymore and therefore not allowed to see patients. I could give you someone. I know his number maybe tha—”

“No, I’m asking you because she trusts you. Don’t see it as a doctor-patient thing, but more as a friend in need. She won’t accept help if it’s not from someone she trusts.”

I feel like I’m starting to sound desperate, and I hate it, but I’d crawl on my knees when it comes to Taylor's well-being.

She sighs.

“Okay, okay, I’ll do it. I have some time on Monday evening.”

Relieved, I give her the location and we settled for a time quickly.

I really hope this might help her, because if it doesn’t, I don’t know what would, and I hate feeling like this. Clueless and helpless.