by A. D. Ryan
When I finally arrived at the fifth floor, I turned right and headed for the nurse's station. The hall looked long, and I felt a little disoriented as I set forth on the next leg of this little journey. The dizziness wasn't the worst of it, however; as I made my way down the corridor, the walls appeared too close together, and my heart thundered painfully against my ribs. I finally arrived at my destination, and when I did, all the nurses there seemed to stop what they were doing and stare.
I suddenly felt very anxious and my palms were sweating, which was unusual for me. “Um, I'm Jack Martin,” I stated. Upon learning my identity, I was met with nothing but sympathetic stares, which made me even more uncomfortable.
“Hello, Mr. Martin. I'm Nurse Collins. Please come with me,” a friendly looking, middle-aged woman said sweetly.
I walked with her a little further down the hall until she stopped in front of a door marked “523,” mumbling something about me going on in because she had to go and find Dr. Richards. Offering her an appreciative smile and a nod, I waited until she walked away before I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I held the breath for an extra beat before letting it out and opening the door. When I stepped into the brightly lit room, the first thing I saw was the perfectly made bed with crisp white linens beneath the barred window.
The walls were pretty bare and were painted a pale shade of green. I assumed it was meant to be cheerful, however, I couldn't help but find it depressing. I continued to take in my surroundings, and when I looked to the left, I saw a familiar face sitting in the rocking chair that was placed in the far corner of the room. She was dressed all in white, and her blonde hair cascaded around her pale face like a soft curtain. Her hands were fidgeting as they rested on her knees, and her eyes were drawn to the other window in the room as she looked out into the day.
Even though I knew where I was and why I was here, I stared at her with hope. Hope that maybe what I was told to be true wasn't at all. That I would go home and everything would be back to normal.
Once the soft click of the door latch catching behind me was heard, she turned to me and the corners of her mouth twisted up into a smile. “You came.”
I flopped down on the bed opposite her and dropped my eyes to the floor. “I didn't really have a choice, now, did I?” There was a heavy silence between us before I could continue. “I need you to tell me everything. No tiptoeing or sugar coating any of it. I need to hear it from you. Why?”
“Baby,” she whispered, her voice so soft and beautiful. “You know what happened.”
I laughed, almost maniacally as I lifted my head. “I thought I knew a lot of things…but apparently everything I thought I knew wasn't real. How…? I just don't understand…why?” I repeated, my voice straining.
“It's a long story.”
Cocking an eyebrow, I straightened my posture and looked her dead in the eye. “I'm pretty sure I've got the time.”
Cassie stood gracefully and moved to sit by my side. She placed her hand over mine and, with a sigh, she began to tell me everything, and my memory started to come back…
““I'm going to go and get the sleeping pills that Sienna prescribed. I'll be back in fifteen minutes, okay? I'll see if my mom can keep Charlie tonight, too,” you whispered before standing and walking toward the bedroom door, stopping to say, “I love you.” I knew the words you spoke to be true, but I was just so…so broken from what had just happened.
“I couldn't move. I wanted to run to you and to apologize for putting you through such grief. It killed me that you were so upset by the miscarriage. Even though I was physically and emotionally drained, I remember wiping my eyes and lifting my head to let you know that no matter how badly I had failed you as a wife and Charlie's mother, that I felt the same way. “I love you, too,” I said with a sniffle. I did…do love you, Jack. But after everything that happened, I didn't deserve your love in return. I still don't.
“I don't know how long I stayed in bed for after I heard the door downstairs lock and the Audi speed off down the street, but I remember with crystal clarity that my thoughts never once strayed from how I wished I could take back every negative thought I had about being pregnant again. I was scared—terrified beyond belief—because I remembered what I was like after having Charlie, and I refused to live like that again. The fear consumed me, and you just kept pushing and pushing—”
I interrupted her for a moment. “I didn't intend to push. I just thought that with some gentle prodding, you'd come around…maybe remember how great your first pregnancy was,” I explained softly, realizing she wasn't entirely to blame for everything that had happened.
It was because of me that she fell over the edge and into the crashing waves that drowned her.
Cassie offered me a sad smile and ran her fingers through my hair. I sighed as the sensation caused every hair on my body to stand on end. “I know your intentions weren't to hurt me. You were excited…who wouldn't be? I just couldn't wrap my mind around everything that was going on…it was too much. And then, when I miscarried…?” Cassie dropped her face from mine, and I heard a small sob escape her. When she returned her gaze to mine, all I saw was anguish and shame. “I was relieved. For that one fleeting moment, it was like this huge weight had been lifted from me. And I felt guilty because, while I ultimately got what I thought I wanted, you were suffering.”
As she confessed her true feelings to me, my breathing faltered slightly and my chin quivered. “I need you to continue,” I said, my voice wavering with uncertainty that I could even handle what I was about to be told.
Cassie nodded and carried on with her story.
“I finally pulled myself out of bed to use the washroom, and when I looked into the mirror I didn't even recognize the monster staring back. My eyes were lifeless, my face gaunt from not eating all week. I was caught in a riptide, and as I stood there, staring into eyes that were no longer mine, I couldn't breathe. The walls felt as though they were closing in on me, and I fell to the ground hyperventilating. That's when you came home and rescued me.
“You ran up the stairs when you heard me crying and picked me up off the floor. You took me to bed where you sat me in your lap and moved us back and forth while I sobbed into your shoulder. While you made me feel safe and loved, I couldn't help but think that maybe your concern for me was misplaced.
“Being around you was the hardest thing I ever had to do in the following days. You were so distraught over losing the baby, and the only thing that killed me was that you were upset. That you would eventually blame me because I never wanted the baby. Even resent me somewhere down the line. I wouldn't have been able to live with you hating me.
“I assured you I was fine, though, and you believed me so easily…or maybe you had just stopped caring. Charlie continued to go to your parents' house while you went to work, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The only thing I could think was how things had changed so drastically from the miscarriage. I rarely spoke to you or Charlie. She was only three, and I completely shut her out…who the hell does that? You would bring her home, and she would run to me all excited about her day with your mother…and I walked away, Jack. I turned from her and walked the fuck away.”
Cassie reached up and wiped the fresh tears from her cheek, sniffling as she remembered everything. “Then, after you put her to bed, because I refused to read to her, we got into a fight. Granted, it wasn't the first…but the things we said to each other? They altered me in ways that I can't even begin to apologize for.
““For fuck's sake, Cassidy!” you screamed as you stood mere inches from my face. “I get that you're upset, but you don't need to take this out on her! She has no idea what's going on, and she needs you! I need you to at least pretend to care.”
““Fuck you!” I shouted, and your head snapped back as though I had slapped you…and in truth, my lashing out at you verbally was far worse. “I know she needs me, I'm sorry if I can't be as fucking perfect as you! I never asked for any of this. You did.” E
ven though I said I was sorry, I wasn't…but I should have been.
“The way you looked at me as I screamed at you was agonizing. I could see your disappointment in how I was behaving—your anger at how I was treating our daughter; and while it pained me to hurt you and Charlie, a part of me just didn't care anymore. That part of me was fast becoming dominant. I can't even describe it…I knew I was acting like a crazy person. The depression was so thick it choked me, but I was so terrified to be medicated for it. I just, I don't know…I figured it would pass.
““I don't even know what to say to that, Cassidy.” Your eyes narrowed, and for the first time in all our years together, I felt your hatred toward me. It burned like acid eating its way through my heart—my soul—taking it all away along with your love. “I can't even look at you right now. I'm going downstairs for a bit. Do whatever the fuck you want.”
“Before you left the room, though, you set the bottle of my sleeping pills on my night stand and walked away from me. You always gave me just enough to help me shut my emotions off so I could sleep, but that time…
“In my heart, I knew you weren't hinting at anything, but in my current state of mind—and after the epic screaming match we had just engaged in—what else was I expected to believe? Pulling my legs up and crisscrossing them in front of me, I sat on the edge of the bed staring at the pills, waiting for a sign that I should go and get you. That I should confess to you the fucked up things that were clouding my better judgment, but that voice…
“I just wanted it to stop! Can't you understand that? I had a brief moment of clarity, and I ran to the bathroom with the bottle of pills clutched tightly in my hands. I stood over the sink, popped the top and held it at an angle, ready to dump them down the drain and tell you how I was feeling, and ask for you to help me…to save me from myself.
“But something kept picking at me. It picked and picked and picked…until finally the voice told me you wouldn't understand…that no one would and you'd put me in…well, here. Tears flooded from my eyes, clouding my vision as I held my free hand out under the mouth of the bottle. Our fight continued to loop in my mind like a broken record, making me feel unworthy of you—of our dear sweet Charlie—and in an instant, it was like I was watching everything happen from a third-person perspective. Like, I had left my own body and watched as I dumped the pills into my shaking hand. So many tears continued to spill forth onto my cheeks, only to make room for more that impaired my vision further.
“I didn't need to see, though. I knew what I was doing. Kind of. I guess the closest way I can describe it was like having an out-of-body experience. I watched myself—even tried screaming for you—but the part of me that was watching couldn't be heard. So I opened my mouth, slipped the handful of pills in, and filled a glass with water, chugging it back. All the while you were downstairs playing your piano. The ominous and angry tones from your music floated through the house, and I could hear the pain—the anger—behind the composition. Every note entered my body and vibrated, making me feel as though I had chosen my true path.”
My panic level started to rise rapidly as Cassie told me in vivid detail what she had done. I could feel the color drain from my face, and I felt like I was going to be sick. I started shaking my head, denial rearing its ugly head.
It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.
Regardless of how hard I tried to wake up or snap back to reality, Cassie swallowed thickly and took a shaky breath. “That was the last time you played…it wasn't the night I told you I didn't want more children.” She paused again, offering me a weak smile. “You seem to have forgotten a lot more than just that, though…”
“As I became drowsy minutes later, I was unaware of anything. The pain seemed to dissipate, and I felt at peace. That didn't last for long, though…
“You know when they say your entire life flashes before your eyes in the face of death? Well, as I stared into the mirror, my reflection becoming increasingly blurry, I saw you. The melody that was echoing through our house suddenly shifted into the song you composed for me, and our entire life together played back in my head like a movie on fast-forward. And then I saw Charlie. Sweet, beautiful Charlie. I remembered the joy she had brought into our lives from the minute we found out we were expecting her. Her sweet face, tiny toes and fingers. How she would grip onto our fingers so tightly, and how she allowed us to see directly into her innocent little soul.
“Then I felt something I never thought I would. I felt grief for the loss of our unborn baby. Imagined what he would have looked like had he made it. Would his eyes have been blue? Hazel? His hair brown or blond? When he smiled, would he have your same mischievous grin?
“It was in that moment, I found the love I was supposed to have for him—and I felt that love ripped away just as quickly…”
Cassie dropped to her knees before me and gripped my cold, clammy hands tightly. “I screamed out your name…do you remember that? I was finally able to cry out for you as I pushed myself away from the counter. On trembling legs, I rushed to the toilet to force myself to be sick, but it was too late. Too much time had passed with the pills in my system, and my legs gave out on me. I fell to the floor, shattering the glass I still clutched in my hands, and unconsciousness took hold…”
My eyes never strayed from Cassie as she sat before me, her eyes glistening with a fresh onslaught of tears. “There's no way I will ever be able to express how sorry I am for what I've done to this family,” she sobbed, bringing my hand up to her mouth and peppering my skin with her soft kisses.
My heart strained painfully, and tears fell furiously from my eyes as I, too, began to sob with every touch of her lips across the back of my hand. “I still don't understand.”
“You do. You just can't admit it to yourself. You will, though. The first step is just…letting go.” Her voice was quiet, hiccupping slightly from the violent sobs that forced their way from her lungs. “It's your guilt that won't allow you to move forward and accept my fate.”
“I won't ever be able to let you go. Not ever.”
Cassie sighed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “You have to. Think of Charlie.”
Hearing her tell me something she clearly couldn't even do enraged me. “You mean like you did?” I regretted saying it as soon as the words left my mouth.
Cassie's face twisted in pain. “And that, my love, is something I am forced to live with for the rest of eternity. Don't think it's easy for me to watch her grow and not be able to hold her in my arms. To not be able to tell her I love her and have her hear me—because it's not. I want to take her to play dates and run my fingers through her little blonde curls to comfort her after a bad dream. But I can't.”
I couldn't stop the venom from spewing forth from my mouth, even though I knew my words hurt her deeply. “Because you were selfish.”
She shook her head, but she seemed to take my accusation with a grain of salt. “No, because I was sick,” she corrected me, and she was right. She was sick, and I didn't see the signs. I kept pushing her farther and farther until she finally just…broke.
I broke her. Destroyed who she was. This all happened because of me.
Not wanting to fight anymore, I pulled her into my arms and held her tightly. She had to be real; I could hear her, smell her…feel her. There was still a cloud of doubt that hung above me, though, and as we sat there, wrapped up in our own blanket of misery, the door opened suddenly and in popped an unfamiliar face. I stared at him blankly through my teary eyes and squeezed Cassie's hand tightly.
“Mr. Martin? I'm Dr. Richards. Are you ready to begin your session?” the kind-looking man asked softly, a tentative smile playing lightly at the corners of his mouth. When his question finally registered in my brain, I slowly turned to face my beautiful Cassie once more…
…only to find my arms empty, her absence leaving me cold.
Chapter 12 | Dreams Become Real
I didn't move from my spot on the bed as I stared at the empty space where Cass
ie was seated only moments before. The truth of everything she had just confessed bore down on me like a ton of bricks. I was having trouble breathing, and the outer corners of my vision darkened as my stomach rolled.
“Jack?”
Closing my eyes, I inhaled slowly and hoped that I wouldn't pass out. I'm so lost.
“Jack?” the man's voice called out again. “Are you all right?”
I opened my eyes and found he had entered my room, looking more than concerned. Hoping to assure him that I was fine, I nodded—even though I was fairly certain that wasn't the case. “Yeah,” I managed to say in a rough voice. “I'm fine.”
“Your parents are waiting for us in my office. Are you ready?”
When I stood from the bed, he moved to the side so I could exit the room—my room—first. As soon as I was out in the hall, he walked beside me. I welcomed the comfort that this action brought, even if the professional in me knew he was only doing it so that I felt as though I wasn't alone.
We didn't say anything to one another as we wandered down the hall before stopping outside a door with a nameplate that read “Doctor Kenneth Richards” on it. From the other side of the solid oak, I could hear my parents speaking. While I couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, I knew it had to be about me.
The doctor opened the door and waited for me to go in first. There, standing in the middle of the room were my parents. My father looked exhausted, but he was at least able to contain the distress that I was certain he was feeling. My mother, on the other hand, could not—not that one could blame her; this was entirely fucked up. As soon as her eyes landed on me, they welled with tears, and her forehead furrowed with worry. She rushed across the room and wrapped her arms around my neck.
