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And all Brooks could say in return was, “I met you by accident, Aurora. It was one of the best things that ever happened to me. But we still have so much to learn about each other. It’s only the beginning of our story, okay? We just have to get you better. We have to make sure you’re all right.”
Eventually, Brooks’ soothing voice and handsome face calmed Aurora down a little bit, and she wrapped herself in a ball in the passenger seat and allowed Brooks, finally, to start the engine. As they drove away from the port, she could hear one of Ella’s songs coming from the main stage, one that had been on the radio over and over again during the summer of 2002— the summer her mother had run away from home, and Aurora had vomited with panic nearly every night until she’d found her. Oh, how she missed her.
Deep in her soul, Aurora was secretly glad that her mother had died, because it meant that she didn’t have to worry about her anymore. Wasn’t that horrible? Didn’t that make her the worst person in the world?
Brooks parked the truck in the parking lot of the hospital, and Aurora sat in silence for a moment, remembering when her own mother had had to be institutionalized, and Aurora had fought tooth and nail to bring her home again. Aurora didn’t have a daughter to do that for her. Brooks had only been in her life for thirteen days— most of which she’d spent ignoring him. She was alone.
“I’m so alone,” Aurora breathed, still in the truck.
Brooks rubbed her hand. “I’m right here. And I’m going to stay here. Okay?”
Aurora turned to face him, shaking her head. “I don’t understand why.” That is: she didn’t understand why, unless Brooks had a horrible motivation for being nice to her. That seemed more likely.
“I know it’s hard to accept,” Brooks told her. “But I genuinely believe we walked into each other’s life for a reason. And I’m not willing to give up just yet.”
Aurora held Brooks’ hand as they entered the emergency room, which was full of tourists with various injuries, including screaming babies and children running around in the waiting area. It was chaos, and it made the voices in Aurora’s head louder and more volatile. Brooks recognized this immediately, and he asked the nurse to send them to the psychiatry ward, where it was quieter. Mercifully, she did.
Up in the psychiatry ward, Aurora and Brooks waited for thirty minutes, holding hands as the light dimmed to darkness through the windows. Eventually, a nurse came to fetch her, telling her that she couldn’t bring Brooks along with her because he wasn’t family. When she burst into tears, the nurse recognized that she wouldn’t go anywhere without Brooks— and went along with it.
Ever since Delilah’s death, Aurora had felt herself running from herself, from her inner monologue, and from the strange voices that seemed to swap personalities in her head. Now, seated in front of the doctor on-call at the hospital who asked what was wrong, she found herself searching for words to describe an experience she really wanted to believe wasn’t happening.
“It’s just. My mother. She died this year,” Aurora stuttered, her heartbeat escalating. “And she was thirty-five when she was diagnosed. And I’m thirty-five now, and I’m just freaking out.”
The doctor frowned. “Diagnosed with what exactly?”
“Schizophrenia,” Aurora managed, hating the taste of the word on her tongue. “And, I guess I’ve begun to recognize some of my own symptoms as ones I saw in her.”
“What symptoms?”
Aurora closed her eyes, as Brooks squeezed her hand. “I find it very difficult to trust anyone,” she began. “So much so that I demonize the people who are trying to help me. I alienate myself from the world, and I hear voices. And I just… I freak out.”
The doctor nodded.
“It’s been up and down so much lately,” Aurora said, close to tears again. “I can’t control it. I’m sleeping terribly, and I’m accusing everyone of stealing—” Here, she broke off, embarrassed of saying it.
The doctor nodded and made a note to himself. Kindly, he said, “I’d like to keep you at the hospital tonight. We can give you some sleeping medication to help you calm down. And tomorrow, we can run a few tests to figure out the next steps. Okay?”
Aurora took a deep breath, amazed at the kindness and warmth in this man’s eyes. When she glanced at Brooks for confirmation that this was the right step, he nodded and squeezed her hand again.
“I think it’s for the best, Aurora,” he said.
A few minutes later, a nurse led Aurora and Brooks to a beautiful and clean room down the hall, where she gave Aurora a hospital gown.
“Have you had any dinner today?” the woman asked.
Aurora closed her eyes, remembering the two glasses of wine. That and the bowl of cereal earlier had been it for the day, calorie-wise.
“I take it you haven’t,” the nurse said, not unkindly. “I’m going to bring you up some dinner. And you?” She gave Brooks a look.
Brooks nodded and palmed the back of his neck. “I’d love it.”
Aurora changed into her hospital gown in the bathroom and sat on the bed cross-legged as Brooks pulled up a chair beside her. In her mind, her thoughts seemed in a perpetual game of tug-of-war, vying for her attention, but out here, with Brooks’ hand on her knee, she was beginning to learn how to breathe again.
The hospital food wasn’t spectacular. It was white bread, a piece of breaded fish, some mashed potatoes, and a bowl of canned pineapple.
“It’s all the same color,” Aurora said, smiling her first smile in hours.
“I love beige food,” Brooks said. “This is probably something you wouldn’t have found out about me until many years down the line in a relationship.” He stuttered for a moment, realizing he’d spoken of a future that wasn’t necessarily promised, then added, “I mean, if you’d be up for that.”
