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The door that led to the back offices opened, and Mabel’s kind, older face emerged. “You ready, Harlow?”
I stood to my feet in answer and made my way to her. The hall we entered was narrow, but she was burning some kind of herb, and it was calming. My breathing came a little easier, and I relaxed as we dove deeper into the darker hallway. She kept the lights back here dim, and honestly, it helped. It gave me peace to be somewhere where I wouldn’t be judged. Harder to judge someone in the darkness.
Her office was even darker, only a single, very dim lamp on in the corner. She had blackout drapes pulled over her windows, keeping the sunlight out. I took a seat on the comfy, black couch, and she sat in her recliner, crisscrossing her legs in the chair.
Mabel was in her forties, almost fifty, but she had the personality of a twenty-year-old. She believed in comfort over professionalism, and today was proof of that. She was wearing a pair of leggings with an oversized t-shirt naming her a “basic witch” with the Starbucks logo on the front.
“I was surprised when you texted and told me you needed to see me today, Harlow. What’s going on?”
I sighed. “I had a flashback in the middle of the day. It was pretty violent. My boyfriend, Xavier, had to call a friend of ours to help.”
“Where were you?” she asked, lacing her fingers together in her lap.
“Henry’s. We were having dinner together before we were supposed to go to his place.”
She nodded, nothing showing on her face. “Tell me what you were doing. What was going on around you? What do you think triggered the flashback?”
I sighed. “Numerous things could have triggered the flashback,” I confessed. “Henry’s was pretty packed. A lot of the groups were being rowdy and loud. Xavier and I were watching a movie on his phone. I remember being thankful that there was a brief moment of silence, but then an explosion happened in the movie.” I pushed the tips of my fingers against my eyes; they burned to the point they ached. “I don’t remember anything after that except being back in that fucking desert.”
“How’s your sleep lately?” she asked, surprising me when she didn’t try to delve deeper.
I frowned. “Pretty shitty,” I admitted.
She sighed. “Harlow, we talked about this. I told you that you needed to tell me if the flashbacks at night were getting worse because they could have escalated to this. And they did. Lack of sleep, anxiety, depression—it weakens your mind, in a way, and makes you more vulnerable. More susceptible to flashbacks.” She dropped her legs and leaned forward. “You have to go on medication, Harlow. You can’t keep living like this.”
My lips trembled, and tears burned in my eyes. “How is it fair that I get a reprieve from my torment when Carl doesn’t even get to live anymore? He doesn’t get to breathe. Doesn’t get to ever see his kids again.”
It wasn’t fucking fair.
She moved to sit next to me on the couch and grabbed my hands in hers. I hated that my fingers trembled in her grasp. “You can’t keep torturing yourself like this, Harlow. And after everything you’ve told me about Carl, I can’t, for one second, believe he would have wanted you to suffer like this.”
I knew she was right, but it still didn’t feel like the right thing to do. But Ihadto do better.
Not just for my own sake, but for Xavier. His parents had let him down, and from what I understood, he didn’t have anyone else. I was his family now.
And he deserved a hell of a lot better than the shell of a man I was. And if he was choosing me, I would fight.
For him until I was strong enough to want to fight for myself.
* * *
Xavier frownedat the state of my fridge, shaking his head. “Harlow, we need to go grocery shopping.”
I sighed, leaning my head back. I’d been put on leave until Mabel deemed me fit for work again. According to both her and Chief, I was in no space mentally to work as a lifeguard. Because what would happen if I had a flashback while I was supposed to be helping someone?
I was a risk. And fuck, if that didn’t pour salt into my open wounds, even if I did understand and agree with them.
“Then go,” I grunted. I was in a foul mood, and I was itching for a fight. Xavier was doing his best to give me space without making me feel abandoned, and fuck, I loved and adored him for it, but my skin was crawling today with the need to just lash out. Make someone hurt as much as I was. Make someone as uncomfortable as I was inside.
I heard him quietly sigh. “Do you want to maybe go with me?” he asked. “It might do you some good to get out of the house.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Do I look like I want to fucking go anywhere, Xavier?” I snapped. “What the fuck are you going to do if I have a flashback in the middle of the fucking grocery store, huh? Call Colwyn again because you can’t handle it on your own?”
He flinched, and that flinch cut me down to my fucking core. “Sorry I’ve never experienced anyone having a flashback before you, Harlow,” he said calmly, but I could hear the hurt lacing his words despite how hard he was trying to cover it. “But you still won’t let me help you, so I’m running blind here.”
I jerked to my feet, not wanting to deal with this. Not wanting to deal with his hurt. Especially when I was the one who caused it. “I’m going for a swim,” I grunted.
“No, you’re not. You’re not doing this!” he barked at me, finally losing his composure, and the darker part of me was happy about it in a sick, twisted way. I slowly turned to face him, a simple brow arched in his direction. “Stop fucking running away from me—from this—Harlow!”
