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When I cycled and leveled out a couple of days later, I finally sought treatment for my illness. I couldn’t see a problem with any of my behaviors before that. Not being close to anyone, I thought everyone had these highs and lows. I thought it was normal. When my disorder was diagnosed and given a name, then I could take a step back and analyze what I was doing. Dr. Miller, the local psychiatrist, has been instrumental in helping me control my behaviors.
My eyes dart around the park. Just the thought of her makes me realize that maybe last night was one of those times I needed to take a deep breath and think about what I was doing, but, honestly, it’s too late for that now, isn’t it?
“What’s going on?” the stranger asks the second we get close enough to hear him.
There’s a certain level of judgment in his eyes, a protectiveness, as if Kalen had time to warn him about me.
McKenna, as sweet as always, gives me a soft smile.
I pull in a deep breath. If anything, I’ve perfected fake-it-until-you-make-it, and it seems today is going to be one of those days I’ll need to pull that out of my hat.
“Hon,” I say, looking up at Derrick. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
“Hon?” the woman I don’t know asks.
“I’m Beth,” I tell her, holding out my hand to her. “I’m Derrick’s wife.”
A beat or so of silence spreads out between us. Since the woman is staring at Derrick rather than shaking my hand, I let mine drop to my side, my throat working on an uncomfortable swallow.
“Wife?” the guy asks, his voice filled with disbelief.
I turn my gaze to Derrick’s face, knowing the last thing I want to see is some form of disappointment or hatred in Kalen’s eyes.
I never advertised my disorder. I’ve always felt like explaining it to anyone sounded like an excuse. People are supposed to be able to control their behavior, right? Besides, the damage of my choices was already done. That mishap with Kalen was just one bad decision in a lifetime of bad decisions. Telling people the reason why it happened wouldn’t make any difference. Hell, if they knew I had cyclothymic disorder, they’d probably cross the street to get away from me, thinking they might catch it or something.
Derrick sucks in a deep breath as he holds up his left hand, the simple gold band on his finger still brand new and shining.
“Seems so,” he tells them, his jaw flexing as he waits for his friend to respond.
The man doesn’t say a word. When I chance a glance in his direction, I realize that it might be because he’s been stunned into shock, his mouth hanging open slightly, his eyes blinking, as if he’s been delivered bad news and his body can’t figure out how to deal with it.
“Stormy, this is Beth,” Derrick says, waving his hand in the guy’s direction. “Beth, Mila. Mila, Beth.”
Courtesy demands that I lift my hand once again even though it was ignored the first time.
Mila extends her hand to mine, but she keeps her eyes locked on Derrick.
“Lovely to meet you,” Mila says when we shake hands.
“You as well,” I tell her, thankful when she pulls her hand back. It means I can close the invisible circle I imagine being around us, a shield of sorts that is in place to keep us safe.
“Wife?” Stormy asks again, his eyes dropping down to the arm I have laced through his friend’s to get a look at my wedding band.
“I think that’s fantastic,” McKenna says, joy filling her voice.
I haven’t had much interaction with the woman, but I’ve never walked away from her with a scowl on my face either. As an elementary school teacher, she’s very kind. She also didn’t grow up in Lindell, meaning she didn’t spend her life in the middle of a gossip circle. She’s kind, and despite what happened with Kalen, her now husband, she has never been rude or mean to me.
I give McKenna a soft smile, wanting to thank her for her kindness, but that would be weird, right? Generally speaking, people should always be kind. It shouldn’t be the exception to the rule.
Kalen looks indifferent to all of it, and I have to respect him a little more for it. He could be warning Derrick away from me right in front of my face. It wouldn’t be the first time someone practically looked right through me and pretended I wasn’t standing right there.
Don’t you know she’s crazy?
The last guy that talked to her ended up registered for a wedding.
Watch out for that one. There’s no telling what she’ll do if she thinks you like her.
Have you ever seen Misery? She’ll kidnap you and break your legs.
I’ve heard it all. You’d think after years and years of being the crazy person in town that I’d get used to it, but, honestly, I don’t think that’s something anyone could grow accustomed to.
