“It will work out, I have no doubt. They are perfect for each other.” I began to prattle off the reasons why they meshed well together when Dr. Stone stopped me.
“Let me ask you, how often do you talk to Mitchell or Megan about their relationship?”
I was confused. “Not that much. Why? What are you getting at?”
“I just noticed how much you wrote about them as a couple in your assignment, but you yourself have no relationship.”
“I care about both of them. I’m not weird. I’m not living vicariously through them.”
“No, you’re not. I agree. I think you’re hiding behind them. You’ve been hurt once and now you’re using your brother’s relationship to hide behind.”
I opened my mouth to junk his theory, but I couldn’t. He was right.
“Let me ask you, what is going to happen when they finally get engaged or even get married? You won’t have their relationship to hide behind. You won’t have a project to work on.”
“They’re not a project to me, and when they get married I’ll be happy.”
“What will you focus your attention on next? Your own personal life? Because I think you’re scared of putting yourself out there. You’re afraid you’ll get hurt. Now I don’t want to push you, but…”
I knew what he was getting at. “Yes, it has to do with The Incident. But you’re right, I’m not ready to talk about that.”
“Let me just ask one question, if I may?” I nodded. “If Devin knows about The Accident does he know about The Incident?” The Accident was our code for attempted suicide. Accident just sounded better to me than attempted suicide. And The Incident, well, that was a completely different thing. The Incident was the cataclysmic event that led to The Accident. The thing I had sworn never to tell anyone, not even Devin.
“He only knows a little bit, he doesn’t know everything that happened though.”
“Would you ever tell him?” Dr. Stone asked.
I shook my head. “No. Not unless I had to. He would just overreact.” I paused for a moment and thought about what I had just said.
Dr. Stone looked at me with raised eyebrows.
“And okay, maybe trying to kill myself was a bit of an overreaction on my part, but I wouldn’t put it past Devin to find Eric and kill him,” I said dramatically. I believed it too.
“Christy, I think you’re blowing this a little out of proportion. I highly doubt Devin would kill Eric. That being said, I won’t push you to tell him. I mean, I’m still waiting to hear the full story, but I won’t force it out of you. I want us to go at a pace that is comfortable for you. So you have your assignments, I will see you next week.”
I stood up, bag in hand, and tucked my notebook under my arm.
On my way back home, I decided to complete my assignments. Maybe I would ask Devin. He wouldn’t have a problem giving me an honest answer.
* * *
Mitch and Megan had left early that morning to beat traffic and get to the hotel as early as possible. It wasn’t until after Emily was gone that I realized how long it had been since I’d been alone, I mean truly alone. No brother listening to his music loudly in his room, no sister talking to her cheerleading friends about that week’s ‘hot’ guy, no one around to bug me. Closing my eyes to the silence was almost like the muteness one feels when they are swimming underwater. Perfect and yet lacking. It was what I had wanted, peace and quiet, but at the same time I wasn’t sure I truly liked being alone.
I walked around the house, looking into all the empty rooms, and the familiar darkness began to encompass me, sucking me back into the lonely world where I had no one. I turned on the lights as if the brightness would somehow bring me out of the dark vortex slowly sucking up everything around me. My breathing quickened, coming in short fast pants as I gripped the sink counter of the downstairs bathroom. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to gain control over my body. Flashes of what happened four years ago forced my eyes open and I could remember the pain, the isolation, the hopelessness and I knew what had driven me to The Accident.
I heard the front door unlock and open before it even registered in my brain that someone had come inside the house.
“CJ!” Devin called out, and it was like I was reliving that night all over again. I could visualize the blood gushing from my wrist, the broken shard of glass in my hand. I could smell the rusty musk of the blood as it pooled on the tile in my bathroom, I could hear my sobs of anguish and despair closing in on me.
“I know you’re here, your car is parked in the driveway!” Devin called.