"What's wrong, Gabs? You look worried about something."
In an instant, her expression changed. The lines on her forehead vanished and her eyes cleared, as if I'd pulled her out of some distant thought and brought her back to the present. "Dr. Greiner has me doing homework. He thinks it'll help me deal with things between appointments."
"What does he have you working on?" It felt odd to sit here and have a normal conversation with Gabi. It hadn't happened in so long. Any conversation we'd had involved me trying to comfort her, or it was an argument about her depression.
"As you know, we've been discussing my mom. Apparently, he kept all the notes from previous visits-when I used to see him before the baby. He says my depiction of her now doesn't match what it was a year ago. It seems I've forgotten things, or they might've gotten mixed up in my memories."
"You mean he thinks you've suppressed a lot of it?"
She nodded and visibly bit the inside of her cheek, staring at me as though she were lost in thought again. I wondered if she'd relented and accepted medical stimulants to help her through this.
"So what's the homework? Anything I can help you with?"
"No. He asked me to write down everything I remember, in the order I remember it, and then I have to go through it when I'm done. I was reading through old emails from her, from after my stepdad died." A slow stream of air slipped past her lips as she let her head fall to the back of the couch. Staring up at the ceiling, she said, "It's exhausting."
"Well, I've got to give it to you, Gabs … I'm very proud of you. You're going through old emails and working through memories of her and you're not crying. Or drinking. I'd say that shows a lot of improvement. How are you feeling-aside from exhausted?" I honestly couldn't remember the last time I felt so content talking to Gabi. Things started to seem normal again, and even though I knew I shouldn't get my hopes up, I couldn't help it.
It felt like the dawn of a new day.
She met my gaze and offered a ghost of a smile. It wasn't much, but it was more than I'd seen in over seven months. "He gave me anti-anxiety medication. I know, I know. I said I wouldn't take any pills, but this is different. I'm not taking them every day, and they don't make me feel like a zombie. He gave them to me yesterday and told me to take them if I started to feel out of control. I figured I needed one in order to take this trip down memory lane."
I set my beer down and slid to the floor in front of her, edging my way between her legs. I gripped her hips and stared into her eyes, making sure she could see me while I spoke to her. I needed her to understand how proud of her I was. "Gabi … you're stronger than you give yourself credit for. I know this isn't what you want to do. I know drudging up old memories of your mom and what happened to you is the last thing in the world you want to be doing, but I know when it's all said and done, you'll be happier for it. I love you so much." I meant it. I did love her. More than she'd ever know.
"I love you, too, Dane. I don't care to think about where I'd be without you."
I smiled and pressed a kiss to her thigh. "You don't ever have to worry about that."
She set the computer down long enough to help me with dinner and eat, but as soon as the dishes were put away, she went straight to the couch. I didn't complain, though. I knew she needed this. We needed it. I'd let her sit there in front of her computer for as long as necessary if it meant things would go back to being normal again.
Instead of taking my evening walk down the beach or sitting on the pier, I stayed inside with Gabi in case she needed me. I never wanted her to feel like she had to go through this alone. Just after sundown, she headed to the spare bedroom with her laptop. She said she had to plug it in, and I didn't question it, figuring she sought some alone time. Gabi remained there all night, and I eventually went to bed without her. I didn't want to bother her, worried I'd interrupt her progress. So I left the living room lamp on and retreated to our bedroom. I took a quick shower and then climbed into bed-and not once did Eden cross my mind. The only thing I thought about was Gabi and how excited I was to see life enter her eyes again. To see her do more than cry and hide away in bed. Instead of losing herself in fiction, she buried herself in the work her therapist had given her, and nothing made me happier than that.
I closed my eyes and fell asleep to thoughts of my life falling back into place.
And then I dreamt of the brighter days ahead.
12
I had always believed in signs, but never paid attention to them until it was too late.
On your way to work, the light you're waiting on to turn green never changes. You get mad. It was clearly your turn to go, but the light remained red while everyone else took their turn. You curse the crimson bulb hanging on a cable as if it has feelings. But there's another side to that coin. There could be a reason the light never turned green. It's entirely possible fate stepped in and kept you from getting hit by another car. Maybe some other driver two miles down the road was on the phone and not paying attention, which could've resulted in a head-on collision had you gone through the light. You don't think about things like that when they happen. No. All you think about is how you missed your turn.
The next morning was exactly like that for me.
I either forgot to set my alarm or I turned it off without actually fully waking up. Either way, I was late. I became alerted to the sun peeking in through the blinds and sat up, noticing the other side hadn't been slept on. I sifted through my fuzzy mind and remembered Gabi being in the spare bedroom when I went to sleep. So I climbed out of bed and headed across the house to check on her.
I found her curled up in the middle of the mattress, an empty wine bottle on the table next to her. A box sat opened on the floor, papers spilling out and scattered around the room. On the bed next to her sleeping form was her laptop. It was opened but the screen was dark. My heart ached for her, thinking about her spending all night going through daunting memories of some of her darkest days. The wine worried me, but I wasn't surprised. I only wished she had turned to me instead of drowning her pain in alcohol.
Knowing she probably stayed up half the night, I moved around the room as quietly as possible, gathering the loose sheets of paper to put back in the box. Not once did I think about the box or wonder where it had come from. Not even when the piece of paper sitting on top caught my attention. I knelt down next to it with the other papers in my hand, and grabbed the one on top.
It was a printout of an online article, dated more than ten years ago. I didn't need to read it-I remembered it, and the others just like it. Sean Williamson had been arrested for the brutal rape of his underage neighbor, Gabriella Rios. The entire article talked about his arrest, and his cries of innocence. Even now, seeing the reports made me angry all over again. I couldn't imagine how Gabi felt after going through this.
Disregarding the other papers, I put them all back into the box and closed the lid. I grabbed her laptop with the intention of putting it away too, but before I could, the screen came to life. I don't know what I expected to find. Maybe something about her mother or old emails, like what she said she'd been looking at yesterday. But that's not what I found. Piercing blue eyes stared back at me from the computer screen. A full-colored photo of Sean Williamson. His mug shot. Next to it was a more recent picture. His eyes weren't as bright and wrinkles now lined his weathered skin. The same scowl appeared in both images, although the one in his mug shot screamed anger, whereas the newer photo simply showed a despondent man who'd lost everything.
He didn't deserve anything after what he did to Gabi.
So many lives had been changed by him.
Her life hadn't been the same since.
Mine hadn't. His family's lives hadn't.
I scanned the information below the photos and learned Sean had killed himself a few days ago. I couldn't help but be relieved over the news. No matter how bad it sounded, I was glad he was dead. I had never been thankful for the death of anyone before, but he deserved it. He was found by his mother in his room, hung in the closet. Fucking coward. He left behind a note declaring his innocence over the charges that had plagued him, followed him everywhere, and he couldn't live with them anymore.
After all these years, he still tried to claim his innocence. I couldn't believe it. A jury had found him guilty, as they should have, and he'd served his time-which in my opinion wasn't long enough. The pain and destruction he caused Gabi would remain for a lifetime. She would never forget what he had done to her, and neither would I. It pissed me off to no end knowing he still denied it. It pissed me off even more that he'd killed himself and no longer had to deal with the fallout of his criminal indiscretion.