Page 38 of Cross + Catherine: The Companion

“To where?’

“Upstairs to the Psych Ward.”

Again, Catrina flinched.

Still, she replied calmly, “Okay.”

The doctor openly frowned. “Can I assume by your demeanor that your daughter’s suicide attempt did not come as a surprise?”

“What you can assume from my demeanor is that I am a very composed woman, sir, and nothing else.”

“My apologies.”

Catrina swallowed her nerves, and asked, “Could I see her now?”

“Of course.”

In the hospital bed, tucked beneath white blankets and sleeping, Catherine actually looked peaceful. As though she had no worries, and her life had not been hanging in the balance only a few hours earlier.

The peacefulness in Catherine’s features was only an illusion, Catrina knew. As soon as the sedatives wore off, Catherine would wake up to a life that she and just tried to permanently escape from.

“I’ll give you a few minutes,” the doctor said from the doorway. “Then we can discuss the specifics of signing the papers for the hold.”

Catrina nodded. “Thank you.”

The doctor closed the door as he left until only a small slit remained. In private, with no one to witness the cracks forming in Catrina’s very put together façade, the heartache finally started to show. It began with a shaky breath, and then the trembling in her hands came next. The first tear slid down her cheek as she looked upward.

Her relationship with God had always been tenuous at best. A love-hate relationship that pushed and pulled too much from her heart. A give and take where she was always the one giving—it never seemed like she ever got anything back.

That’s how God sometimes works, Cat, her husband liked to say. It’s called faith. We give it to Him without question.

Catrina didn’t see it the same way. She had far, far too many questions for God. She didn’t even know where to begin usually.

Not tonight, though.

Tonight, she knew exactly what she wanted to say.

Please, please … give her happiness and love and little pain. Please, please … give her those things, and I’ll give you unquestioned faith and trust. Please, please …

“Cat?”

At the sound of her husband’s voice coming from the doorway behind her, Catrina quickly wiped the few tears away that had escaped. It didn’t matter, though. When she turned to face Dante, he saw what she tried to hide.

He always did.

In two steps, he was with her. Holding her face in his warm hands, and dragging her close. He wiped away her second rush of tears, and kissed her lips softly.

“It’ll be all right,” he told her.

“Will it?”

“Eventually.”

Catrina let out a weak breath. “Do you remember when she was brand new—thirty-two hours of labor and four deep stiches later?”

Dante chuckled. “Can’t forget it.”

“But do you remember how I felt then? After we brought her home, I mean.”

“Like a baby deer walking on new legs.”

Catrina sniffled, and nodded. “I didn’t know what to do—how to be a mom to a brand new baby. I didn’t know how to take care of her, or where to begin. I was so … out of my element.”

“First time I ever saw you struggle with something,” Dante admitted. “It was strange for me, too, in that way.”

“I’m back in that place again,” Catrina whispered. “Back to feeling like I don’t know how to keep her alive, bello.”

Dante dragged her even closer, and tucked her against his chest. There, she found safety, and home … and love.

But where did Catherine find those things?

Nowhere, clearly.