by Baxter, Cole
Feeling relieved, they set up a time for their session. The notion that she would see him first thing in the morning was what allowed her to fall asleep that night without a problem.
Despite wanting to blurt everything about Ruby, Mary forced herself to tell her tale from the beginning, and that entailed sharing the news about Nick first.
"How do you feel regarding his death?"
"All over the place. There are times I'm saddened by the fact that he's gone, and yet there are also times that I'm, if not glad, then relieved that something like this happened," Mary confessed, ashamed as a small tear dampened her cheek. She wiped it immediately.
"That is perfectly understandable considering your relationship with him," Doctor Carson said in his usual calm and thoughtful manner.
"Also, I came to terms that I might never really get my closure."
"Most people don't."
Mary laughed despite herself. "That's not really reassuring."
"It's not supposed to be. It's simply the truth."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Good."
Speaking with him, Mary was confronted with the notion of how much she’d missed him. She should have never stopped coming, no matter what. I'm not going to make that mistake twice, she promised.
"Now. Are you going to tell me why you stopped coming to therapy?" he asked without preamble, as though he could read her mind.
Mary sighed loudly. "Because I'm an idiot." She raised her hand to stop him since it was apparent that he wanted to argue. "And before you correct me, I have to tell you everything that I learned about Ruby."
He frowned upon hearing her say that. "Did her behavior escalate in any way? Has she become more demanding?"
"Oh, Doctor, you have no idea."
With great attention to detail, Mary told Dr. Carson everything that was going on. From fake seizures and hiring actors to pretend to be her friends to Mary finding out she had a history of mental issues and was a convicted murderer.
Mary had to give credit to her therapist. He remained calm the whole time as though nothing she said surprised him. And more importantly, he never said I told you so. She specifically appreciated that.
Once she finished speaking, he took the time to explain to her what a borderline personality disorder entailed. The more she listened and learned, the more pieces of a puzzle called Ruby came together. He was describing her to the letter.
"I have to say that both borderline personality disorder and narcissism are known for their extreme controlling behaviors."
Can I pick them or what? First Nick and now Ruby. That notion got her a bit depressed.
"I'm sorry I failed to notice all the signs earlier," he concluded, looking really torn about it.
"Doctor, this is on me, not you. I was the one who stopped talking and coming. I was the one who failed to listen," she insisted.
"You're prone to placing all the blame on yourself," he reminded her.
"I know. In this case, I'm also right. Now tell me, do you believe I'm in danger?"
He took his time answering. "The problem with these types of people is that they are prone to stalking."
"I'm guessing you mean that literally, as in harassing and not just dropping by unannounced and things like that," she tried to lighten the mood since she was really starting to freak out. She didn't want to be stalked. At the same time, who would?
"I'm afraid so."
Well fuck. "What am I to do then?"
"No matter what the detective discovers, you need to file a restraining order, and I'm afraid you will have to move out of your apartment and find a new residence away from anywhere she associates with you," he advised.
Mary made a face. She really liked her place since this was the first home that she'd felt was completely her own. She said as much.
"Tell me you're not staying there now?" Doctor Carson asked in concern.
"No, I checked into a hotel."
"Good. Smart. For now, don't make any rash decisions, including moving out. Sleep on it for a couple of days, catch up with your life without Ruby, and we'll discuss it during our next session."
"Sounds like a plan."
Chapter Twenty-Five
For the next week or so things, if not returned to normal, certainly returned to the rhythm Mary was accustomed to and felt comfortable with.
Done, she thought with satisfaction, sending an email to Alisa, then she stood up to stretch a little. The hotel chair wasn't as comfortable as her one at home. She tried working in bed and didn't like it. I will just have to make do, she told herself.
Mary worked, and she went to therapy, and she tried to think as little as possible about Ruby, which wasn't easy.
One day, she got in touch with Shannon, wanting to keep her promise and update the other woman on current affairs.
"The more I learn, the less I know, you understand me?" Shannon said at some point.
"Yes, I feel the same way. I often catch myself in disbelief thinking, I can't believe this is my life."
"So true. I thought things like this only happened in movies or to famous people. I am freaked, and I escaped right in time. It's so much worse for you since you're her target now. Sorry," she added in haste, realizing what she’d said.
"It's okay." Everything Shannon said was true. "She didn't try to contact you?"
"She did, but I ignored her. You?"
"Every day, all day," Mary replied glumly.
Shannon cursed in return. "It's crazy what's happening."
"You have no idea." Mary meant that quite literally.
"I have to go to bed. Let's continue this tomorrow night?" Shannon offered.
"Sure."
Ruby kept trying to contact her nonstop, during all hours of the day and night. Mary didn't know how, but Ruby got ahold of Mary's email address, so she started sending her these long electronic letters as well.
It was very disturbing reading them and she stopped at some point. Mary couldn't open a new account since all her business was tied to this one. In the end, she marked Ruby as spam and hoped that would be enough to not be confronted with something like that again.
Unfortunately, she couldn't solve her phone problem that easily, with a few clicks. Ruby kept calling her from different numbers, clearly hoping Mary would make a mistake and answer. Mary was not that naive. She did block all the numbers pestering her, but Ruby kept calling as though having an unlimited source of fresh phone numbers. And that was a terrifying thought.
It was simply mind-blowing how determined Ruby was to speak with her. Mary was confronted with another proof of such reality when she went to her apartment to collect her mail. She wondered if she should be doing something like that since everybody had advised her to stay away. However, she needed her mail, plus she could use a walk since being closed up in that hotel room was slowly starting to bother her. Considering all the pros and cons, Mary decided to go. As long as she didn't linger, she convinced herself, everything would be fine.
Mary found a pile of letters and boxes in front of her door, which horrified her. "What on Earth . . ."
Her landlord appeared at that moment. "I was just about to call you. This is unacceptable."
"I will clean everything up," she promised, unlocking the door and shoving everything inside.
Then she had a second thought and went in search of her landlord. "Mr. Fritt, may I have a word with you?"
He nodded. Very briefly, she explained to him what was going on. He looked shocked at first, and Mary was grateful that he became very sympathetic toward her.
"If I see anyone snooping around, I will immediately let you know."
"Thank you, I really appreciate it." And she meant it from the bottom of her heart.
While she returned to her apartment, Mr. Fritt continued to mumble about the state of this world and the quantity of sick, dangerous people who inhabited it.
Mary sighed looking at the pile of things Ruby sent her. This is getting out of contro
l. Actually, I think that ship sailed a long time ago, she corrected herself. Despite deciding not to linger, she realized she had to deal with this mess first.
She opened just a few letters. And why did she do something like that? Because she was a freaking masochist, as it turned out. Reading them, she discovered the content wasn't different from the ones she received via email. In some Ruby begged to see her, apologizing profusely for her behavior and mentioning that her health was deteriorating while expressing her hope for a reunion before it was too late.
Classic manipulation.
In others she accused Mary of all kinds of things, for being a rotten friend, opportunistic, and cold-hearted, using all kinds of horrible profanities to enrich her text. She even wrote, in an obvious fit of rage, how Mary deserved to have a husband like Nick to torment her for so many years since she was an awful person herself and deserved nothing better.
Mary stopped herself there. She really didn't need to read further. "What am I going to do with you?" she asked no one in particular, looking at all the boxes.
Very tentatively, she grabbed hold of one of them and put it against her ear. No ticking, she only half-joked, doing the same with all the rest.
Paranoid much? A part of her questioned, yet she ignored it.
She opened them all up, one by one, only to discover that Ruby sent her all kinds of 'gifts'. Mary received clothes, framed pictures of Ruby, autographed, of course, house decorations, and expensive jewelry.
Mary looked at all the stuff and felt completely empty for some reason. Taking the phone from her pocket, she took pictures of everything. She didn't know precisely why she did that, but she didn't question the urge.
Afterword, she put all the things back inside their packages just the way she found them, shoving the letters in as well. Resealing the boxes, she picked them all up, locked her apartment, and on her way to the hotel, she stopped at a post office and sent everything back to Ruby. That looked like the only course of action she had in such a situation.
She was sure that her gesture was going to antagonize Ruby further, but Mary simply couldn't, with a clear conscience and sane mind, keep all of that inside her house. That would feel wrong on so many levels.
Mary felt relieved when she got rid of all that stuff and returned to her hotel room. She felt completely spent, and instead of sifting through her mail, she lay down and fell asleep.
As was expected, a swarm of texts, emails, phone calls, and ranting voicemails followed afterward at the precise time when Ruby presumably received all of her 'gifts' back.
Mary was saddened by the fact that she could now predict with terrible accuracy the pattern of Ruby's behavior. She didn't want to be in that position. She didn't want to be in the mind of a narcissist, and here she was since as it turned out, she didn't have a choice.
You always have a choice, she reminded herself. The catch was, she wanted to be able to overcome all of this and survive, as well.
The next time she went home, an even bigger pile of gifts and letters greeted her. She had half a mind to kindly ask her landlord to throw everything out on arrival but reconsidered.
She didn't bother with the letters but she did open the boxes. The gifts got more awful this time around. There were pictures of Mary scratched or with her face crossed over with a red marker.
"Oh, my God," Mary exclaimed, opening a box that had a dead rat inside it. Mary felt like vomiting.
Why is she doing all of this to me? Why won't she leave me alone? She couldn't help asking the heavens.
Mary felt completely ill opening the last one, because the dead rat wasn't enough torment for her, to find that it was filled with used condoms. How can a person obtain these? She stopped herself right there. She didn't want to know.
"That's it," she shouted with resolve.
She was thoroughly disgusted, irritated, and angry all at the same time. Mary didn't deserve any of this. She wasn't going to take all this abuse any longer and do nothing.
Packing everything up, she went straight to the police.
"Hello, sir," she said politely to the officer who worked at the front desk. "I am looking for Detective Carl Decker."
The officer eyed the boxes she was carrying.
"I'm not a courier. The detective is working on my case," she explained, praying really hard that this man wasn't about to ask her to open said boxes. The humiliation would be too great. Not to mention, she didn't know how to explain everything—a dead rat, condoms—in short order.
Luckily, all he said was, "Does he know you're coming?"
Shit. In all this madness, she completely forgot to call him ahead and ask if he was working. "Yes," she lied.
"What's your name?"
"Mary Wright."
"Hold on," the officer said, picking up a phone. He spoke shortly before turning to her again. "He will be right here," he said.
"Thank you," Mary replied, moving away from the desk so other people could state their business.
Detective Decker appeared after a few minutes looking slightly surprised to see her.
"Ruby won't stop sending me gifts," she said without preamble.
"What kind of gifts?"
She handed him one of the boxes. Coincidentally, it was the one with the condoms.
"Fuck." He started cursing, sealing it back again.
"I have a dead rat and a lot of other fun items as well," she added without actual humor.
"Follow me," he said. They went to his desk where he examined everything that was sent to her.
"Is this all you got?" he inquired.
“No," she replied with a shake of her head. "She sent me a bunch more a couple of days ago, but I sent them all back."
She showed him the pictures.
"I told you not to go home," he said.
"I had to get my mail," she argued.
"Look, I went by her apartment, but she wasn't there."
Probably walking about trying to find inspiration for the next batch of these lovely gifts, she thought sarcastically.
"It looks like nobody lives there anymore." Detective Decker's words snapped her from her musing.
"What do you mean?"
"The place looks abandoned with no trace of her, and I asked around. She left no forwarding address."
Of course, she didn't. You don't want people to know where you are when you're doing things like this. "The place wasn't homey to begin with," Mary felt the need to explain.
"That explains a lot. This is clearly not her first rodeo," the detective replied. "Unfortunately, my colleague and I don't know where to start looking for her."
Mary got an idea. "Did you check her country house?"
Detective Decker looked at her questioningly, so she explained, "Ruby talked about owning a county house upstate, wanted me to go there with her as well."
"Do you know where it is?"
"Sadly, no."
"No worries, we'll look into it."
Mary simply nodded in return.
"We will find her, it's just a matter of time," he tried to reassure her.
How much time, she wanted to ask and said instead, "What should I do in the meantime?"
"Stay clear of all the places you frequented together, and no more trips to your apartment," he said sternly.
"Got it."
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mary did as she was told. She fully concentrated on her work, immersed herself entirely into it, and went to therapy every other day without visiting her apartment anymore. She feared Ruby all the same and often wondered if she’d sent her anything else, something even more horrible, though she couldn't quite imagine what that might be. All the same, she wasn't about to go and confirm or debunk her theories.
At the same time, doing the things she did prior to meeting Ruby made her feel completely normal again. Everything was as before, though she lived in a hotel and was a widow. There was a bright side to this story as well. Every night, she talked with Shannon over the phone. After
a while, they didn't talk about Ruby at all but about everything else, everyday things, and those calls were something Mary really started to cherish. Speaking with Shannon kept her sane as much as Dr. Carson did.
Over time, the most curious thing occurred. Mary stopped feeling so lonely. She didn't know how, but she really started to enjoy her own company and filled her hours of leisure with online classes for yoga and knitting.
Despite worrying about what tomorrow would bring, she wasn't afraid anymore of ending up all alone in this world. Mary no longer feared herself or her thoughts, for that matter. It was true the current situation wasn't an ideal one. Far from it. All the same, she was confident that she would overcome this with a few good people in her life.
One day, Detective Decker called her.
"Is there any news?" she asked with hope.
"Yes. Though it's not good, I'm afraid."
"How so?"
"We were unable to find Ruby's country house. It must be registered under a different name."
Mary felt like cursing. She was about to suggest checking under Ruby's husband's name only to remember that she was never married.
That woman was made of lies and nothing else.
"Thank you for calling me."
"We'll keep digging. Stay safe."
"Will do."
Thinking about his words, she realized she couldn't stay idle and simply wait in the hotel room for the police to find Ruby. She wanted to help, and that gave her an idea.
Without delay, she contacted Lara. They hadn't spoken since Nick was murdered. Lara took news about Nick's murder pretty hard, almost as hard as Mary did. In a way, she took that as a personal failure, and Mary tried her best to reassure the other woman that it wasn't her fault Nick was killed. That was on Nick and his killer, nobody else.
"I have another job for you," Mary said, hoping that would cheer her up.
"You remarried and he ran away?" Lara deadpanned.
"Ouch."
"Too soon?"
