Page 30 of The Marriage

Karine started to want to.

Sylvia knocked on her door the next morning, but entered without waiting for an answer.

Karine was still in bed and barely even glanced at the woman. She didn’t have the energy or interest to, and it wouldn’t make a difference. The therapist would still see the dark circles under Karine’s eyes and the bloodshot, dead stare stained with dried tears.

What a way to spend a night.

Fuck him for doing that to her.

“Looks like you didn’t eat anything last night,” Sylvia noted, her tone grating on Karine’s nerves for no particular reason. “Would you like some breakfast now? We have a large menu, and you’re welcome to mix or match anything you like. Our chef can prepare whatever you want, and you can take it wherever you’d like within your room, the halls, or the property.”

Karine lay still, with her back turned to the woman just like she had ended their conversation the night before.

She didn’t want to eat. She had no appetite. She missed Masha. And she seriously doubted any of that would mean anything to Sylvia.

“How about some pancakes? Are you a tea or a coffee person?” Sylvia continued.

“I’m a person who wants to be left the fuck alone,” she hissed in response.

“I understand that you’re frustrated and angry with your husband. I was hoping we could talk about it? A conversation could change your whole perspective, Karine.”

Karine wanted to scream.

Or laugh.

Hell, maybe both.

Why would she want to talk to this stranger? It took her so much to open up to Michelle, and even that felt like a waste now. Especially when Michelle’s name had been brought up as a facilitator to her committal here.

She would probably never see Michelle again, but that might be for the best.

“How about meditating? I heard you have a special interest in meditation. It’s actually how I like to spend my mornings, if I can. Would you join me?”

Enough.

Karine rolled over fast, and sprung up in bed, dragging the dense, heavy rubber-like sheet off her with a clenched fist. “I get you’re doing your job,” she told the woman, not hiding the venom in her voice at all, “but I want to be very clear with you. I don’t need your help. I won’t use your help. Or anybody else’s in this fucking place. Leave me alone.”

Sylvia’s smile dropped and for a split second, Karine thought the woman might lose her kind facade. No such luck. She breathed in deeply instead, suggesting quietly, “Maybe talking to your husband might help.”

Jesus Christ.

No.

Definitely not.

Karine rolled her eyes, and fell back in bed again.

What else needed said?

*

The bitch wouldn’t give up.

By the end of the day, Sylvia was back with a phone she tried to hand over to Karine. Except she still hadn’t moved from her spot on the bed, and even the buzz of her husband’s voice on the other end of the phone couldn’t entice her.

“Roman would really like to speak to you,” she whispered to Karine.

Oh, did he?