by Misti Murphy
I am gaslighting Rogue Maddox.
My brother would be so proud.
I turn my attention to a row of paintings on the wall opposite the windows. Landscapes. There’s a beach scene and one of mountains. A rainforest. Some rocks. An ocean.
It isn’t on purpose. I didn’t mean to make him doubt his own sanity. I’d meant to keep my word when I promised I would stay chained to the bed at Bianca Del Ray’s party while he went to find his brother. Even though the whole scene seemed somewhat unethical and a little Criminal Minds meets bondage fantasy. More than anything I wanted to give us the chance he asked for. I was so close to unmasking myself and being vulnerable with him.
I had waited. Even though I’d pulled out one of the pins that was keeping my wig attached, to pick the lock on the cuffs so I could rub my wrists—a trick I’d been taught during a self defense course I’d done with Adira—and make myself more comfortable, I had waited.
Until my phone had started playing the Jaws theme song. Adira’s handiwork.
At which point I’d scooted off the bed to find the money sack that held my phone and keys. I’d missed the call by then, but not the message from my brother.
Why is there a photo online of you and that queer entering Bianca Del Ray’s party? Nicole is going to have a fit when she finds out you’re hanging out with that trash. But I suppose we can’t expect you to make good decisions. Perhaps you should have stayed at the clinic.
“I’m not crazy,” I whisper to myself as I stare at a painting of a sailboat on pristine water. The image is supposed to be tranquil, calming. My eyes sting, but I refuse to blink. Playing chicken with my emotions is something I’ve learned to do well. Playing chicken with someone else’s emotions makes me want to be sick.
It reminds me of all the times Nicole has criticized me under the guise of loving me. Or my brother has turned ugly words on me… whether I’ve deserved them or not. I don’t want to make Rogue feel that way. Even unintentionally.
I want to do better. But that would mean opening up to Rogue. Being truthful and putting myself out there completely.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and sniff. It helps me get my watering eyes back under control. That one message from my brother was all the reminder I needed that I am not ready for the judgement I'll find in those baby blues I’ve come to love, if he knew who I really was.
No, Rogue and I are destined for a Romeo and Juliet style ending, only without the mayhem, murder and bloodshed. Although there has already been bloodshed, I suppose. And plenty of mayhem. Fine, I just don’t want to see anyone get murdered. Which is definitely a possibility if I keep playing into the fantasy that Rogue won’t care who I am underneath my mask. Pretending otherwise only makes me more vulnerable. It only opens me up to more sadness than I can bear.
My heart wells just thinking about it. It’s why I ran from Bianca Del Ray’s birthday party. From Rogue. Again.
It’s why I ducked out while he and his brothers were at the base of the stairs, arguing. Why I sprinted down the steps the moment their attention was on the vacant room and hid in the party favors room while I called Adira to tell him I was ready to leave.
Of course then I’d had to keep from falling apart in front of the paparazzi congregated at the gate, while I’d climbed into the back seat of Adira’s Tesla. Swipe away my tears and pretend that I felt as sassy on the inside as my costume suggested while we drove through their midst and off Bianca Del Ray’s estate.
I’d crawled into bed, completely miserable. Unable to do anything but relive that time with Rogue over and over and over again. Every word we spoke. Every look. Every caress. Everything that I can’t have but want so damn much I ache.
Everything Rogue Maddox wants too. If only I’d give him a chance to show me how good we could be together. If only I would stay and let him in and stop driving him crazy.
He’d said that. That I was starting to make him think he was losing the plot.
By the third day, Adira had forcibly scooped me out of my bed and dropped me on the couch to marathon action movies with him and Ben. It was a friend-tervention, complete with skinny margaritas and a sweet and savory charcuterie board.
I’d eaten some chocolate and reached for a pickle only to find myself sobbing around the thick green dill because Rogue said chocolate and pickles go together. But we don’t.
Ben had wrapped an arm around my shoulders and I’d sunk into his side while I fought to keep my composure over a man who doesn’t even know who I am. A man who thinks he might be hallucinating.
And then it hit me. He was talking about me. ME. Or more precisely, Uma Cookie. And what did I do? I ran away again. I perpetuated his concerns. I probably convinced him that he was right to believe that I don’t exist.
Movement happens behind the door. A masculine chuckle seeps through the wood. Dr. Keller’s feminine tone is barely audible. Certainly not enough to make out what she’s saying. Not that I’m trying to or even want to. I’m glad no one can hear me when I’m in that room.
I turn my back on the paintings and check the time. I’d booked the first available appointment today. I couldn’t wait a whole week. Somehow I’d gotten lucky with a cancellation. The second hand ticks down the rest of the session before mine. I take a step toward the door. Hover there.
I should be relieved that Rogue is convincing himself I don’t exist. He’s so persuasive and hardheaded and I don’t think he would let this go any other way.
But I’m not relieved. I screwed up. I don’t want to be the person who makes someone feel the way I have. Like they’re losing their handle on what’s happening around them. Like they don’t know what is true and real and good anymore. Until it all becomes too much.
I feel like I’m coming out of my skin this morning. Like I’m losing control. I move automatically as the door swings open to reveal Dr. Keller and her patient. They’re sharing a laugh as he lifts his gaze and catches the only movement in the room. Me.
Rogue’s blue eyes startle.
So does my heart. I wasn’t expecting…I didn’t think…what is he doing here? With Dr. Keller? Oh God, he knows it’s me. He knows I’m a terrible person. He knows I’m broken. He hates me.
“Ivy?” Dr. Keller says my name. “I didn’t know you had an appointment this morning.”
And now he knows I’m a patient. My cheeks burn.
I pivot in my Converse, ready to flee.
“Ivy?” he asks.
That delicious voice of his doesn’t help. I glance over my shoulder like he’s beckoned me with a hand to my jaw. I can’t help it. Our gazes lock for a split second and he seems to be trying to divine my secrets with his eyes.
I turn and run.
Twin cracks reverberate in my skull. One, the wood of the doorframe as I smack into it hard. Two, my nose as the cartilage gives under the force of the sturdier object.
“Mmph.” I stumble over my feet as I back up and land on my butt on the dense carpet. Tears spring to my eyes and copper fills my mouth.
“Christ.” Rogue makes a pained sound as he moves toward me. He crouches beside me on the floor. “That looked like it hurt.”
I can’t breathe it hurts so bad. Saltwater and blood mingle and drip from my chin onto my T-shirt. Plus my nose is starting to block. I’m completely mortified.
Dr. Keller picks up the phone. “I need a medic to my office right now. Hurry, please.”
Rogue touches my face. He peers into my eyes so intently I swear I’m done for. Any second now he’s going to announce that I’m Uma. “You feeling okay? How many of me are you seeing?”
“Just one.” Oh boy, I sound like Janice from Friends.
“The medic will be here momentarily,” Dr. Keller says, handing me a fistful of tissues. “Hopefully you haven’t given yourself a concussion.”
I peer up at Rogue, who is still staring at me.
“You’re going to have quite the set of bruises,” he says. “And I feel like that might be my fault.”
“You saw me and ran into a wall.” He chuckles but his brow furrows. It’s not funny, because it’s true. He’s offended. Or at the very least confused. “I think it might be because I was an asshole last time we met.”
“You were an asshole?” That is not the way I remember it. The things he did with his tongue to my body in that bed…but he doesn’t see me…or at least he doesn’t see Uma in me. Only Ivy. “You could never be an asshole.”
He shakes his head as he starts to smile. “You don’t know me very well. I totally behaved like a jerk to you.”
“Seriously, it’s fine. I’m fine.” He had a lot on his mind. Probably thanks to me. Well, Uma. No, it’s all just me. I’m the one who should apologize. But of course I can’t do that. I squeeze my eyes shut and it stings. I can’t come clean and tell him who I am. I can’t be Uma Cookie anymore. I can’t fix the damage I’ve caused at this point without everything getting too complicated.
But I can tell Dr. Keller and maybe she can help. Assuming he was here as a patient. Maybe she can subliminally fix this problem I’ve caused and things can go back to normal. Well, not for me. It’s not like I’ll ever get over him. “What are you doing here?”
He glances at Dr. Keller. His Adam’s apple bobs.
“Sorry, that was rude. It’s none of my business.” I drop my gaze.
“That’s okay.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I have some shit to work through.”
Dr. Keller clears her throat. “Rogue, you don’t need to discuss anything we’ve spoken about today with anyone if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s fine.” His gaze doesn’t leave mine. “I owe you an explanation for why I was such a jerk.”
“You don’t have to,” I say.
“I was shot a couple months ago.”
“I remember,” I say. I was the one who took you to the hospital. “I read about it in the news. It trended on Google. They said it was drugs.”
“Afraid not,” he says, tongue in cheek. The lines around his eyes deepen as he helps me to my feet and to a seat. Lifts his cheeks like it pains him. “What if I bought you coffee and told you about it?”
“You want to have coffee with me?” I can’t breathe as it is, and as my heart beats harder at the fact that he just asked me out for coffee, I get entirely too breathless. My head swims. Did Rogue Maddox just ask me out? Not Uma Cookie. ME. Even if it looked like it aggrieved him to do so.
“Not a date. More of an apology coffee. For my behavior last time. I’m not bad at the apology coffee.”
“I remember.” I snicker and even that hurts. Apparently apology coffees are our thing. Uma Cookie is the one that he wants. “I don’t think…”
“Where’s the patient?” a friendly male voice asks from the doorway, diverting my attention.
“Ivy. Long time, no see.” Oscar smiles as he approaches in his green scrubs. He was always kind and sociable while I was staying here. We played cards together when his shifts were quiet, and I’d beat him at blackjack and gin rummy. He’d bring me pudding cups, stating I was one of his favorites. “What did you do to yourself?”
“Ran into a door,” I admit.
“Lord, girl.” He shakes his head and side-eyes Rogue, no doubt recalling a certain sexy actor’s role in the last time he was called to a run-in I’d had with a wall. That time I’d been trying to escape too, but I’d been about as invisible as one could get. “Again?”
Rogue’s brow draws tight for a second as he stands out of the way while Oscar assesses my nose. Rogue’s probably curious as to how Oscar and I are old friends. Or regretting his decision to ask me to coffee. Considering the possibility that I might not just be shooting the shit with Dr. Keller.
It’s for the best, right? It’s what I want. I can’t keep playing with fire.
“You’re out of alignment, Love,” Oscar says as he carefully takes hold of my nose. “This might hurt a bit. I’m going to count to three, okay?”
“Okay,” I manage, but my belly fills with nausea.
“One,” Oscar says.
Rogue glances away as Oscar doesn’t wait and immediately straightens my nose.
My eyes water.
“Thatta girl.” Oscar pats my knee before he stands. “I’m going to get you some ice and a couple of ibuprofen, alright?”
I nod. “Thanks, Oscar.”
“Alright,” Dr. Keller says as though she’s had enough drama for today. “Rogue, it was lovely to see you. My receptionist is waiting for you. Ivy I see Aubrey has booked you in for this morning. If you’d like to come in…”
Rogue glances between the outer door with the receptionist desk on the other side and me. “Would it be rude of me to ask you for your number?”
“I…uh, okay.” Why is it so damn hard to say no to him? I take his phone when he hands it to me and add my number. I almost type in Uma Cookie’s name before I realize that’s not who he is expecting to find when he looks.
When I hand the device back, he puts it in his pocket and walks away from me backwards. “I’ll see you soon, Ivy.”
I really hope not. I don’t know how much my heart can take. If he starts getting to know Ivy I am so screwed. I stand to follow Dr. Keller, who disappears into her office while I watch Rogue depart. “It was nice to see you.”
“Oh my.” Dr. Keller is pacing back and forth between the chaise lounge and her leather armchair. She presses her hand to her forehead as though taking her temperature while I take a seat. “Oh my.”
“Is everything okay, Dr. Keller?” I press my knees and ankles together. My fingers linked, I rest my hands on my lap. Rogue Maddox thinks I’m too young and he still wants to have coffee with me. If only he knew that was the least of our problems.
“I need to think.” She does not elaborate.
Several minutes pass. Oscar comes back with the ice, ibuprofen and a small bottle of water. Dr. Keller moves behind her desk and types a few things into her laptop.
I take the pills and rest the ice on my nose. I can only imagine I look worse by the minute. But that seems like nothing compared to the fact that Rogue Maddox has my phone number.
Dr. Keller stands up and moves to the front of her desk. She sits on the edge, clears her throat and flexes her fingers around the wooden surface. “Ivy, how well do you know Rogue Maddox?”
“A little,” I admit.
“As yourself?” She moves from that spot to one closer to the door. Takes off her tailored jacket to reveal a wine colored silk blouse. Grasps her elbows with both hands. “Or in costume?”
“B-both.” I drop my attention to my fingers. Especially the thumb I was taking out all my nervous energy on earlier with my teeth. I pick at the raised quick.
“Is Rogue Maddox your White Rabbit date?”
“Mmm.” I nod, thumb still between my teeth. “Walk me through it,” she says, taking another turn around the room. “You met as Uma Cookie. It got…intimate.”
“He talked about me?” I pluck at the collar of my stained shirt. It’s hotter than normal in this room. It feels like there’s no air.
“I can’t tell you what was said in his appointment.” She drops onto the tan leather seat she always sits in while we’re in session. “You know that.”
“I can guess,” I say to my hands. “He thinks he’s hallucinating about a woman in costume. She keeps showing up. They get close. And then she runs away.”
“The question is why is she running away? Clearly she’s making some progress. I just watched her hold an entire conversation with a man she obviously has some feelings or at least attraction for. Without clamming up or stuttering.” She snaps her mouth shut in favor of studying me. Dissecting me with her unblinking eyes like a frog with its insides on the outside like they used to do in high school science class.
I start to feel a l
ittle queasy. I can practically feel her prodding my intestines, trying to discern what makes me tick like a bomb. “You’ve been doing so well, Ivy. You’ve made new friends. You can hold conversations.”
“Did you see me run into the doorframe?” I ask. “Because that happened and I’m humiliated.”
“We still have work to do.” She smiles at me sympathetically. “You’re still trying to control everything after not having any control for so much of your life. You’re running away…that’s how you keep him at a distance. It’s how you keep yourself safe from potentially getting hurt again.”
“It’s not that simple,” I retort. “My family—”
“Ivy, we’ve discussed this,” Dr. Keller says. “You are your own entity. You are allowed to make your own choices. You get to choose whether to continue with any relationships that you have. Whether that’s with a friend or lover or even a family member. It’s not up to you to fulfil your mother’s expectations. You don’t owe her your life.”
“But I promised him.” I stand and move to the windows. I need air. I need to breathe. My heart is cracked and it never heals. It hurts and aches and never stops. Some days I’m good at faking it though. I clasp my wrists with both hands. Some moments I even manage to forget. When I’m with Rogue I even feel happy. “I miss my dad so much. Every day.”
“That’s normal. He was a huge part of your life,” Dr. Keller says patiently. “He was also the buffer between you and the rest of your family. And between you and the world. You learned from him. You relied on him in a lot of ways. It’s expected that you would continue to miss him.”
Silence fills the space as I stare out the window that overlooks the parking lot. The sun glints off Jaffa’s orange paint. A dragonfly hovers on the other side of the pane, momentarily, before flitting off. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I don’t bother to check it even though my pulse kicks up a notch at the idea that it could be Rogue.
