“I don’t love you anymore.”
“Yes, you do. We can get through this.”
I shake my head and smile softly as my eyes fill with tears. “I’ve been through enough.”
“I know, and that’s why you need me.”
“I need to be alone. For the first time in my whole life, I want to be alone.”
His eyes hold mine.
“I’m sorry about Melissa, I’m so, so sorry. I love you. Please let’s work through this.”
I shake my head and take his hand as empathy fills me. “I don’t think I ever loved you, Todd.”
He frowns.
“I am incapable of loving you.”
He stares at me as he thinks.
“I want you to walk out that door.”
He looks to the door.
“And I don’t want you to come back.”
“I don’t want you to deal with this alone.”
“I have been alone my whole life.”
“Shelly,” he whispers sadly. “I fucked up, but I can fix it.”
“It’s broken for good, Todd,” I whisper. “We can’t be fixed.”
A knock bangs at the door. “Hello, Shelly. My name is Erica and I am a psychologist. We had an appointment booked for this morning.”
Grateful for the interruption, I smile. “Yes, of course. Come in, please.”
I’ve been in rehab for two weeks. It’s been six weeks since I was shot. I finally got the message through to Todd and he stopped coming to see me, although he still rings me every morning and night. The psychologist has diagnosed me with Stockholm syndrome, and so, for now, I am just playing along and agreeing with them
Six long weeks since I lost the other half of me.
Does he think about me all the time, like I do him? Sometimes I wake up and I feel like I won’t be able to survive another hour without him.
Are they right?
Am I crazy?
It doesn’t really matter anymore, I suppose, and I just need to concentrate on my health for the time being. One of the nurses from work is flying in to pick me up today and then fly back home with me. I’m assuming it’s my closest friend Moira, I think my boss would have sent her. I’m excited to be seeing familiar faces. It’s been a lonely six weeks and I’ve had no contact with anyone at all.
I sit on my bed as the nurse goes through the last of my medication discharge notes with me.
“And this one here is the one that helps you to sleep.” She scribbles onto the box, sleeping.
I nod. “Okay.”
“But remember, you can’t drive when you are taking these.”
“Okay.” I smile. “Thank you. You have been wonderful.” I smile.
“You going to be okay?” she asks.
I shrug. “Yeah, I’m tough.”
“No shit.” She smirks and leaves me to it. I walk over to the window and stare out over the city.
I don’t like Vegas. I don’t think I will ever come back here.
“Hello, love,” a familiar voice rings through the room.
I turn.
Annette Stace’s Mom.
Tears fill my eyes.
“Are you ready to go home?” she asks softly.
“What?” I whisper.
“I’ve come to get my daughter-in-law and take her home.”
I frown, confused.
“You can stay with me for a little while and I will take care of you. You can then move into Stace’s house in Manhattan”
I stand still.
“Where is he?” I whisper.
“He’s in prison in Columbia.”
My face screws up in pain. “Is he okay?” I whisper.
“He will be better when he knows you are being looked after.”
I smile through my tears. “Does he know you’re here?” I ask hopefully.
She wraps her arms around me. “He sent me to come for you.” She kisses my face.
She holds me in an embrace, and for some stupid reason, the skies open up and I cry stupid howling-to-the-moon tears.
“Come on.” She eventually smiles. “Let’s go home.”
I bounce down the street in Bogota in the ice-pink dress I had made. It’s a mirror image of the one Stace bought me for our first date. I wonder if he will remember. It has been two long years, but today he finally got out of prison. He was originally sentenced to five years, but we got it reduced to two on appeal. That was the best we could do with the cash that we had.
He wouldn’t let me pick him up this morning. He said he has a surprise for me.
I moved to Columbia as soon as I was well enough. I needed to be closer to him. I live in a beautiful house in the hills and life has been good.
I needed this time alone, to find myself.
To find out who I am supposed to be when I am not living in fear. I’ve finally forgiven myself for my mother’s death.