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Most days, I can believe I’m getting better. Most days I don’t feel like I’m fighting with my own mind to decipher fantasy from reality. Other days, like today, I’m all over the place.
Today is not a good day because it’s Jake’s birthday.
“Chloe?”
I look up, my cheeks heating under Dr. Arlo’s curious gaze.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I asked how you are?” His kind eyes and warm smile should put me at ease, but they don’t. I can’t let myself trust anyone. Not after last time. “Nancy mentioned you had an outburst in the common room. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Can I say no?”
“We can talk about something else if you prefer.” He pauses and glances down at my file. “It would’ve been your brother’s birthday today. How does that make you feel?”
Like flipping the breakfast table in the common room?
“Is,” I reply. Dr. Arlo raises his eyebrows, so I elaborate. “ItisJake’s birthday. Just because he’s dead, doesn’t make it any less significant.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He pauses long enough to study me for a moment. “Tell me, Chloe, have you spoken to your brother today?”
“It’s his birthday. Of course I have, but not in a crazy way.” I really hate that I have to justify that to him. “I spoke to him in an ‘I love you and wish you were still here, so I wasn’t so fucking alone’ kind of way.”
“Is that how you feel? Alone?”
Hunching forward, I don’t answer.
I don’t just feel alone. Iamalone. The only person I have in the world who remotely cares about me is the man whose wife I killed. How fucked up is that? Every time I close my eyes I see his face, the look in his eyes at that very moment when he realized how broken I was. I’m so deeply in love with him but I know he’ll never truly reciprocate those feelings. How could he possibly love someone with so much blood on her hands?
Kelsie. I killed hermother. There is no excusing that, there’s no way to rationalize what happened, or make it okay, and I’m a fool if I think she won’t find that out someday and hate me as much as I hate myself.
“What about Sam?”
I look up, shocked to hear his name.
“What about him?” I keep my tone level.
The doctor looks at me. “He calls every day, you know. Sometimes twice. Just to see how you’re doing.”
“He does?” I’m not sure why that surprises me, but it does. I thought if I told him to stay away, he would move on.
The doctor nods. “Does that give you hope?”
I bite my lip. No. I can’t hope. Hope is for other people with futures and lives to look forward to. Not me. Sam and I willneverbe together. The sooner I accept that, the better off I’ll be.
“I want you to do something for me, Chloe.” Dr. Arlo puts down his folder and looks at me. “Go out into the garden, find yourself a nice spot and talk to Jake.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be discouraging me from talking to him?” I say with a nervous laugh.
“There’s nothing wrong with talking to those who are no longer with us,” Dr. Arlo reasons. “It’s not being able to distinguish between reality and fantasy when it becomes a problem.”
“Do you think I’m crazy?” I ask softly.
He shakes his head. “What you’ve been through doesn’t make you crazy, Chloe. Your mind dealt with it the only way it felt you could get through it. The fact that you’re here, making this much progress, shows me how strong you really are. Maybe it’s about time you realized that too.”
He gestures to the clock sitting on his desk. “I think we need to leave today’s session at that, but promise me you’ll think about what we’ve spoken about today.”
Nodding, I get to my feet and thank him. Contrary to my past beliefs, I do think being here is helping me. Talking things through is doing something. The fact that I can think and talk about Jake and my family without breaking down is a testament to that.
