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“I’m . . . I’m, um, the baby’s father.”
The man glanced at the chart and nodded.
“I’m Dr. Patel.” He thrust his hand in Patrick’s direction, catching him off guard.
“Patrick Greyer.”
“Mr. Greyer, we’re running some tests and haven’t found anything conclusive as to why Ms. Raines passed out. She needed a dozen or so stitches, but so far, but her scans are clear, and her labs look pretty promising. Right now, my suspicion is that this is mostly pregnancy-related. Dizziness and even fainting is sometimes caused due to the elevation in hormones. The urinalysis shows she’s dehydrated, so I’ve ordered fluids to help with that. It’s possible that the dehydration alone was enough to cause this episode, but I want to run a few more tests to rule anything else out. Can you tell me . . . Has she been under a lot of stress recently? How about her eating habits? Is she eating okay? Any morning sickness?”
Patrick twirled the ring on his left hand, the way he always did when he was nervous. “Um, no, not that I know of. I mean she mentioned being a little sick, but I think she’s eating okay,” he replied, running his hand through his hair as he stared at the monitor, silently wondering what all of the various numbers meant. “And the baby? How’s the baby?”
“The baby looks great. Everything looks normal at this stage in the game.”
Patrick breathed a small sigh of relief. “Is she going to be okay?”
“After we get some fluids in her, I think she’ll perk up just fine. She requested something for pain down in CT, and once everything looked clear, I gave the go-ahead for a small dose of morphine, which is likely why she’s out right now. She’s going to need to take it easy for the next several days. I suspect after the fall she took that she may have a concussion. By the way, I need to get the name and number of her obstetrician in order to request her medical records.”
Patrick’s heart sank. “I, um, I don’t know. I guess I can make a few phone calls and find out,” Patrick replied, suddenly aware of how little he really did know about what was going on with Michele.
The doctor nodded and continued watching the monitors, appearing to jot down notes.
Patrick sunk further in the chair.
“Check the phone.?
? The man said as he moved closer to the curtain and turned to leave.
“Excuse me?”
“The phone. Her cell. Her doctor’s information is probably in it.”
“Oh, right,” Patrick said, but the man had already disappeared.
William pulled the car off the road near the spot where they’d agreed they would say their goodbyes and Addie would travel on from with Carl. He put the car in park and shut off the ignition. They had driven much of the rest of the way in silence, save for the radio, and Addie had a few things she wanted to get out. She cleared her throat and swallowed hard and stared out the window. “I didn’t sleep with him, William. I haven’t slept with him or anyone in months. I don’t care if you have . . . I mean . . . I know this isn’t a relationship or anything, but I wanted you to know.”
William nodded and laid his head back on the seat eyes closed. “Why did you agree to go away with him, Addison? Before any of this ever happened with the dog, you’d already made plans. I’m sure you know what that looked like—how it made me feel. My question is why?”
Addie shifted and turned towards him. “Because I’m scared. My marriage is over, and I hated to see it ending on such a bad note after everything, especially after having three kids together. But mostly, it’s because I’m scared to let myself love you the way I want to.” She drew in a deep breath, let it out, and continued. “I know about your past and why you are the way you are, but the truth is that you know very little about mine. We all have pasts, William, and those pasts shape us into who we are. I’m not ready to share all of mine with you, but let’s just say that I learned not to show my feelings. I learned that if I wanted to survive I had to make myself as small as possible and avoid feeling anything. But . . . before I was old enough to figure it all out for myself—if I was sad or happy, depending on what was going on that day—I figured out that I’d better damned sure not show it. If I did, I didn’t eat. I was sent to my room to be alone because no one cared enough to just let me be. People leave, William. They die or they leave. That’s what they always told me.” Addie paused and shifted. “I’ve never shared this with anyone besides Jessica, and even Patrick only knows bits and pieces because it’s just too painful, but there’s this huge part of me that no one really knows. Maybe that’s, in part, because I believe that if they did then they’d somehow see me as less than I am.”
William shifted. “I don’t see you that way, Addison. I see a strong woman, stronger than anyone I know, but I’d like to know more if you’re willing to share it. I want to know all of you.”
Addie raised her eyebrows slightly. “The thing is I’ve always had this feeling that I wanted to tell you, that somehow I was supposed to tell you.”
“So do, please.”
“All right,” Addie replied, staring out the driver’s side window, just past his gaze. She paused to exhale before continuing. “When I was younger, they gave me one of those little potties you use to toilet train your kids with so there would be absolutely no reason for me to come out of my room. I’d get thirsty or hungry or maybe just bored, so I’d break the rules. Sometimes I was forced to stay in my room for days, and if I came out, I was spanked for it. Yet there were many times I didn’t even care about getting punished because even though the spankings eventually turned into beatings, they were better than the loneliness. I guess it was better to feel pain than nothing at all. Anyway, a lot of it I was either too young to really remember, or I’ve just blocked it out. I don’t know. But long story short, I learned along the way that not only did my feelings not matter but I didn’t matter. No matter how hard I tried to be what they wanted me to be, it wasn’t ever going to be enough. In my experience, showing your feelings or having needs got you hurt. And if you’re lonely enough or hungry enough, eventually you learn it’s just best not to have them. I know that a big part of you understands that—understands what it’s like to be this way—but a lot of people won’t. I think . . . that unless you’ve been severely neglected or abused, you can’t possibly get what it’s like to have to walk on eggshells all the time—to be afraid to show any emotion—to feel so small that you’re practically invisible, as if you don’t even exist. It’s a scary and exhilarating feeling as a child to know that you could walk out the door for school and not come back and that it would be a long time, maybe forever, before anyone came looking for you. Then, before long, you grow up, and it gets a little easier, and you take what you can get, where you can get it. Love is love, you tell yourself. You take what it is you feel you deserve, until pretty soon you’re lost in it. It’s hard and beautiful and intoxicating because it goes against everything you’ve ever known to be true. It sort of feels like a lie, but at the same time, it feels as if a truth has finally been revealed about yourself. All of a sudden life is more amazing than anything you could ever imagine; it’s like a high you don’t want to come down from. The trouble is the lows are what you know. The good news is, you tell yourself, if things get rough you know how to make yourself invisible, and so when it happens, you play small, in part because it’s what you’ve always done, but also because you’re so afraid of losing the little bit of love you’ve worked so hard to earn. Why? Because you know what lonely really is, and you don’t want to go back to that place, and so you’ll do just about anything to keep what you have. Maybe because losing it would somehow mean that they were right about you all along.”
William turned and met her gaze straight on. “God damn it. It’s strange, you know, because I knew all of this. I mean somehow I knew it. It’s partly what drew me to you that day in the elevator, you know. It’s as though we were two addicts searching for one another, as though maybe together we could finally see ourselves. It’s like how water seeks its own level. I love you, and I think the fact that our pasts are similar is in part why you love me too. We understand each other. It’s like you’re the drug I need, the drug that makes me better. Even more so, you make me want to be better. What I don’t understand is why you won’t just give into it? We’ve both seen things just as bad as they can get, so what I don’t get is what more is there you need? What is it that you’re afraid of, Addison?”
Addie exhaled slowly and wiped the tears from her eyes. “This. I’m afraid of this. I’m afraid of feeling like this, of getting hurt. I’m afraid of loving you and even more so of letting you love me. For a long time, I didn’t really understand what happened in the elevator that day. I mean how I could just have sex with a random stranger? How could I be so drawn to someone that I couldn’t even control myself? That wasn’t me, and it scared me. Not only did I not even know you but . . . I mean . . . I was happy in my marriage, wasn’t I? It wasn’t until much later—sometime after the Domme training with Sondra—that I finally got it. I finally understood, and I saw myself for what I was—what I am. It made sense that I’d been so starved for love, for someone to really want me, to see me that I just went with it. And I realized too, that while the way it happened between you and me might have been a mistake, in many ways, it was also an awakening.”
“It wasn’t a mistake. I’m not going to hurt you,” William whispered, gently pressing his thumbs just beneath her eyelids, wiping the tears away.
“That’s just the thing, though. I don’t want to find out. We’re broken people, you and I. And I think you need . . . I think that you deserve someone who’s whole.”
“Two halves make a whole, you know,” William said. “I think you’re hiding something. I want to know what you’re really afraid of, Addison. You have to be willing to let your guard down because I want to know the depths of you. I want all of it.”
“I’m afraid that I already love you too much, and I’m just going to get swallowed up in it. I’m afraid of letting what happened in my marriage happen with us. You’re that kind of man, William. You just eat people up and spit them out.” Addie paused and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I’m afraid of losing myself again.”
