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“I hope so,” Tria said, “because you’ve been holding all of this inside for way too long, and I think you are going to need your family to get through all of this.”
“They’re the ones who started all of it,” I snarled, immediately regretting the tone. I took a breath to calm down, but my stomach was starting to churn again. “I’ll talk to her if that’s one of your conditions, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be a fun and happy conversation. It doesn’t mean we’re going to be having tea and fucking crumpets at the end of it.”
Tria took a few more steps toward the door, slowly shaking her head. Before she walked out, she paused and turned back to me.
“This isn’t right,” she said quietly. “You shouldn’t be doing this because I’m threatening you.”
“It’s…it’s not,” I said, knowing it was at least partially a lie. Not wanting to lie to her, I kept babbling instead. “I mean, I am to some degree. I can’t argue with that. But Tria, I’ll do anything you want. I know I’m not…worth it, but I want to be. I want to be better for you…for you and…and…”
I tried to stop it, but a hot tear leaked out of the corner of my eye.
“You and our baby.”
I watched her face and saw it was still filled with doubt.
“I’ll do it,” I told her. “I love you, Tria. I’ll do anything to make all of this right.”
A matching tear fell off Tria’s chin as she offered me her first real smile.
“You do all of that,” Tria stated, “and if after thirty days Dr. Baynor agrees you have done everything you can to get yourself better, we can talk about trying this again.”
I was never one to make deals, but it was the only chance I had.
Chapter 5—Write the List
How long I sat there in the center of the hospital bed after Tria left and watched the empty doorway could have been anyone’s guess. At some point, Dr. Baynor’s face appeared there. He squinted his eyes a little and gave me a wary half smile.
“How you feeling?”
“Like my pregnant girlfriend just left me.”
“She left you a few weeks ago,” he said.
As if I needed reminding.
“This time feels a little more definite.”
He walked the rest of the way into the room, checked my vitals, and then pulled the rolling circular chair to the side of my bed.
“You told her,” he stated. He didn’t have to ask.
“Yeah—sage fucking advice you had there, asshole.”
“I have to admit, I didn’t think you would actually do it. If I had, I would have tried to prepare you a little more. You also haven’t talked to me yet, so I don’t know what your triggers may be.”
I glanced at him with narrowed eyes, but I didn’t have the strength to really be pissed off at him.
“Now what?” I asked.
“Now,” Dr. Baynor said, “you tell me.”
I just shook my head and laughed humorlessly.
“Yeah—there’s a brilliant idea. I just about have a heart attack the last time, and you want to have me do it again? What is it, Banter? You need some practice with the defib paddles?”
“No,” he replied, “I’m actually quite good at those. Liam, you didn’t have a heart attack. You had a panic attack. You’ve kept all of this inside of you for a decade. You may think you’ve been dealing with it all these years by ignoring it, but your inability to bring it up without intense physical reactions means you haven’t.”
“Sounds like bullshit to me,” I muttered as I looked away from him.
