We are US... (I am HER... Book 3) Page 17
I won't stay and watch someone I love, love nothing in return. It hurts too much, and it just delays the inevitable. Suzanne is broken, and I won't watch the final pieces of her die away before my eyes.
Leaning into her scarred cheek once again, I want to sob at the irony of her scars. She was also right every single time she argued she was damaged on the inside as well as the outside now. She was always right, I just didn't listen to her.
"I will always love you, sweetheart," I whisper the forbidden name against her cheek. "I hope you find your peace now, however you need it," I finally sob as I walk away from Suzanne, and us, and from everything I wanted with her.
If she dies tomorrow, I’ll understand she needed the release, and if she dies in the future, I’ll wait to be told she finally succeeded. But I won't wait to watch her fade to nothing anymore as she breaks my heart along with her.
Leaving the room and the hallway, and eventually the ward, and hospital itself, I move in a trance.
I have finally left the woman I love so she can end her suffering in peace. I won't stop her, and I won't make her fight anymore.
My poor, beautiful, sweet, sweet Suzanne shouldn't suffer anymore. I know that, and I finally accept it.
Sobbing against the wall outside as I hold my stomach contents in check, I realize I probably look like a man who just lost his wife to a tragic accident, or maybe to illness, or to something equally as sad. I notice people see me, but other than sympathetic eyes for the new widower they probably imagine, they do nothing but pass me. And that's it.
I am a widower, without the actual death yet.
I am a man who has suddenly learned the truth of his wife's illness and I have to just wait to know what her final death will be.
My Suzanne is broken. And I didn't love her enough to make it all better just like she always told me I couldn’t.
"I finally hear you, love. And I understand now," I whisper to no one but her ghost in my soul.
CHAPTER 13
Suzanne
"Suzanne? Can you hear me," Mack asks when I finally open my eyes. He came back for me. Oh god...
"You're here," I cry with such relief I can't stop from sobbing in my hands.
"Yes, I'm here. But why are you here?" Mack asks like he's confused or something.
What the hell does he mean by why am I here? He knows why I'm here, unless he doesn't. But he would know what happened because he knew to find me here, so he wouldn't know I was here without knowing why I was here. Right?
"Um, what do you mean?" I ask when the tears finally slow enough to talk to him.
"I mean exactly as I asked. Why are you here, Suzanne?"
"Ah, because I was put in a 72 hour hold that they won't lift. And it's been 6 days now, Mack," I cry desperately.
"Who won't lift?"
"Dr. Phillips."
"And who else?"
"Z," I whisper crying again. "Z betrayed me. He promised me. And he lied, Mack. He lied to me!" I yell as he nods like he understands.
"The same way you betrayed him?"
What? "No, I didn't. I was just... Um, it's not the same thing," I argue trying to make him understand.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but YOU promised to never attempt suicide for Z, and for me actually if you recall our life-long contract," he says a little angrily, but not angrily enough to actually scare me. "And then Z had you committed which he promised never to do to you. Am I correct?"
"Yes," I nod not seeing where he's going with this, though I probably should.
"So you broke your promise first, Suzanne. Therefore Z's broken promise doesn't count." What?
"Yes, it does! He left me, too. Did you know that? Did you know Z also left me before he had me committed for a 72 hour psych hold? Did you!?" I yell at Mack because his calm is pissing me off.
"Again. After you broke your promise. So once again, his broken promise doesn't count. What else do you have? Are you going to blame me next for this because I was away on my honeymoon?" He asks much angrier.
"No, of course not."
Shrugging, Mack shakes his head like he could care less before asking, "Why didn't you call us? Or have someone else call us?"
"Because I didn't want to ruin your honeymoon. You and Kayla needed to reconnect after the wedding stuff, and I didn't want to burden you or make you angry with me," I fade out feeling a little insecure suddenly.
Leaning closer to me Mack asks, "Don't you think this ruined our honeymoon more?"
"Um, I don't know. I don't think so."
"Well let me tell you about my honeymoon. Kayla and I had a wonderful time, Suzanne. We were happy and relaxed and Kayla was even laughing again with all the stress of the wedding over. We drank and danced and just had fun like we used to. We actually reconnected again and everything was wonderful for us. And when our honeymoon was over we landed at LaGuardia ready to go back to our normal lives, still happy, cabbing it to our place. Then guess what happened?" Mack says beyond an angry I'm comfortable with as I stay quiet. "Guess, Suzanne?" He snaps at me.
"I don't know," I admit kind of scared.
"We entered our apartment, dropped our bags, exhaled from the flight, but before I could even use the bathroom Kayla was banging down the door crying about you because she listened to a goddamn message from Chicago Kayla telling us what you were going to do, or wanted to do. A message, Suzanne? Really?" He says so angrily I have no idea what to say. But he waits anyway with a glare until I cave under the pressure of his anger.
"Ah, I asked her not to tell you guys, or to leave you a message. I told everyone who asked if I wanted you that I didn't because I didn't want to upset you or ruin your honeymoon with this. Um, I made everyone promise me they wouldn't call you so you could enjoy your honeymoon."
"Did you?" Nodding, I whisper yes again trying to understand why he's so angry with me.
"Well, you managed to ruin our honeymoon anyway, Suzanne. So thank you for that. Instead of thinking about it with happiness, we're both scrambling to figure out what the hell happened while we were away. Kayla is bawling her eyes out, devastated and sad, and really fucking pissed actually- at you and at everyone else. And I'm just reeling from figuring out what the hell happened when I was away."
"I'm sorry," I blurt out quickly when he takes a breath to finally stop yelling at me.
Shaking his head again, Mack actually breathes deeply a few times like I do before he speaks. Leaning back in the chair a little further from me, he casually crosses his leg, ankle over knee and just waits while I struggle with what to say to him to make this better.
When he eventually lifts his eyes to me he still looks a little angry though his voice is much calmer.
"Suzanne. Why are you here?"
"Because I wouldn't talk to anyone after Friday night," I shrug lifting my arm for him to see my broken wrist.
"How did that happen to you?"
"Um, the orderly hurt me and Dr. Phillips broke my wrist," I whisper still afraid of Phillips but unable to get away from him. Whispering in case the room is tapped, I beg Mack, "Will you please get me out of here before he really hurts me Mack?"
"Suzanne, I need you to listen to me. Dr. Phillips isn't going to hurt you. He's a well-respected Psychiatrist-"
"Like Simmons was," I point out desperately.
"No, not like Simmons. Phillips is a colleague of mine and he would never hurt you the way you fear, or the way Simmons did. And that's the truth, Suzanne. I promise."
"But he did hurt me! Look at my arm!" I cry totally frustrated that Mack won't listen to me.
“I saw a little of the video feed, Suzanne. Once you were closer to the door the video picked up some of the struggle from the hallway, and I have to tell you Suzanne you hurt you this time.”
“No, I didn’t. Phillips did!“
“When your wrist was broken, Phillips had you in a slight hold to keep your arms away from the closest nurse until you did some spin drop thing before you hit the floor. It's actually o
n the video feed, which was very lucky for Phillips and the investigation. I saw it, Suzanne. I also saw Phillips' shocked reaction when you suddenly threw yourself to the floor. There wasn't any time for him to release your arm before you threw yourself down, and he certainly didn't hurt you on purpose. You did that, Suzanne. I’m telling you what I saw."
"But they were going to attack me again," I whisper looking up at the light I know has the camera and sound recorder inside it.
Looking up himself, I think Mack understands what I see. "There is nothing in this room to record you. Nothing at all. It's against the law, and against hospital policy. I work here remember? My office is in the next ward so I guarantee you there is nothing in any of the rooms."
“Oh.” Whew.
Jesus Christ! I didn't realize what a relief that would be until he said it. I was more afraid of giving them something to see and watch and maybe post online than I was of simply dealing with ignoring Phillips every time he and the other doctors tried to get me out of my room from the doorway.
"Suzanne, you attacked first. Blindly, crazily, and really fairly strongly. You attacked David when he was only 2 steps into your room. And yes, he shouldn't have been in your room- he's been suspended and he fully understands the protocol he broke when he entered. But it was just a poor judgment call on his part trying to do his job. You, however, kicked the shit out of him."
"I did?" I start giggling, though Mack doesn't laugh with me like I thought he would.
"Yes, you did. It was actually horrific and vicious, and it's so awful to watch that you were immediately upgraded from ‘a danger to herself’ to ‘a danger to others’. And that's why the hold hasn't been lifted yet, Suzanne," Mack says so seriously my smile fades as quickly as the sadness returns.
After forever in my sad silence, Mack asks again, "Why are you here, Suzanne?" But I don’t know what to say because I have very little left to give him. There's very little left inside me, and I'm so tired suddenly I want to be left alone.
When Mack waits patiently, I finally squeak out my answer to please him. "Because Dr. Phillips put a mandatory hold on me and he won't lift it," I say as he shakes his head no.
"Why are you here, Suzanne?" He asks again looking at my face like he's willing me to speak. But I already did.
"Um, because Dr. Phillips and Z agreed to a Psych hold," I try again.
"Suzanne... Stop playing dumb and answer the question. Tell me why you’re here."
Oh. Huh. I wasn't playing dumb, I actually was. But I know what he wants now so I give it.
"I'm here because Z figured out I was going to kill myself Tuesday night, so he and Phillips put me away instead." There. It's out.
"You were going to kill yourself?" He asks as I nod. "Why, Suzanne? And be honest."
"I'm always honest with you," I snap as Mack smirks at me like I'm lying.
"No, you're not. You try to be, but you're not always. Often you say what you think you should say, or what you want me to hear. You even say what you think I want to hear. But you're rarely honest with me until I push you to be."
"That's not true! I never lie to you, Mack. I promise."
"Suzanne, evading a question, or only answering a question partially is still lying by omission. You know that. We've talked about that endlessly over the years. So don't start with this shit now." Before I can respond he asks again, "Why were you going to kill yourself Suzanne?"
"Um..."
There are so many reasons and so many things I want to say. I want to tell him everything, but he always just argues or tells me I'm wrong and tries to find another reason for my stuff. Mack always finds something that makes what I say, if not wrong, then just explained away differently and I don't want that this time. I need him to listen to me and I need him to accept what I'm going to say this time.
"Will you listen to me, Mack? Like, really listen?"
"Of course," he breathes quietly.
"No. I mean, will you hear what I have to say, and not try to change it into something else? Because that's what I need from you. I want to tell you but I want you to accept whatever I say as the truth this time without changing it in my head."
Nodding, Mack says exactly what I figured he would. "I'll listen to you, Suzanne. But I can't promise I won't tell you if I think you're wrong. That's the best I can do."
"Okay," I nod because that's the best I'm going to get from Mack.
"Suzanne, why did you want to kill yourself?"
Inhaling deeply, I exhale with my words. "Because I'm screwed up, and I'm too sad to continue like this." Nodding, Mack prompts me to give more. "Ah, I feel bad with Z, and I don't want to feel bad anymore. Um, he deserves so much more than me. And I've embarrassed him finally, and he left me so-"
"Doesn't count," Mack interrupts. "He only left you after he found out about the suicide, so him leaving you doesn't count as a reason for your suicide. Try again, Suzanne," he says like an asshole.
"Okay, fine then. He was leaving me after he found out, but he still left me."
"Still doesn't count, Suzanne. So drop the Z left me part and tell me why you were going to kill yourself." Okay, Mack is just being annoying now.
"Fine!" I snap feeling pissed. "Because I was sad and tired, and I didn't want to feel like shit anymore. Nothing ever changes no matter how much time goes by." Breathing deeply all the pain inside me, Mack smiles at me and signals with his hand to give him more. "Jesus Christ! You're being really annoying right now."
"Don't care," he says with a shrug. "Continue, please."
"That's it, okay? Everything felt really bad, and I freaked out the night before your wedding, and a few days before your wedding, and then at your wedding. And everything was just so awful and I felt so shitty, and I was tired of feeling like shit, and looking like shit, and I hate the women who say mean things about me, and I hate Z for always looking and acting perfect all the time, and I just decided enough was enough."
"Because?" He interrupts again with a smile and I want to bash his face in. Z was right, dammit. I really do need to get into kick boxing or something to channel all this anger all the time.
"Because I was, okay?"
"Because you were what?"
"Depressed and-"
"Bingo!" Mack says with a triumphant smile as he claps his hands together.
Um... What the hell just happened? My whole room seemed to light up with Mack. It's like everything changed around me and now everything feels so different suddenly. I don't know what the hell just happened, but I feel strange.
"You were depressed, Suzanne. That's it. Plain and simple. You felt depressed and you started freaking out. You were sad and depressed, Suzanne. And what happens when you get depressed?" He asks almost laughing at me.
"What? I don't know," I say totally confused by Mack's almost pleasure or something talking to me.
"Suzanne, when you get depressed your past haunts you and you struggle. When you get depressed nothing feels good anymore, and everything becomes darker for you. You don't feel anything good, and slowly your mind and feelings change everything that is good into something bad."
"I- what?"
Finally just laughing, Mack smiles as he reaches for my hand before I can even pull away from him. "For lack of a better explanation, when you get depressed, Suzanne, everything bad or sad in you becomes stronger and more amplified until you get totally fucked in the head," he says with a grin making me burst out laughing. He always cracks me up when he sounds totally unprofessional and undoctorly.
"You're depressed, Suzanne. And I think you forgot what this felt like because it’s been a while for you. A good, long while. Your meds have been working and you and Z have figured out how to deal with all the triggers and the day to day life shit that could set you off. You've been really good for quite a while now, I'd say even happy. So I think when this depression hit you forgot what it felt like so you didn't know how to handle it. But it's a depression, Suzanne. That's all this is, and you can handle a de
pression. You have before and you will again," he finally squeezes my hand and smiles at the stunned expression I think I'm wearing.
"I- um…"
"Are depressed, Suzanne. Which is totally normal and even expected with you. You've had too much physical and mental trauma in your life to not experience depression for the rest of your life. And honestly, that's what this is. I promise," he says with a gentle Mack smile, and I almost believe him.
"But I really don't want to live like this. I'm tired of all the bad stuff, Mack. It just takes too much out of me, and it's not fair to Z to have to live with a woman like me. Someone who he has to walk on eggshells around or something in case I lose it. And I don't want to keep living like this all the time because-"
"You're depressed. Plain and simple, Suzanne."
Oh. Huh. Mack makes it sound so simple or something. "But it doesn't feel simple, Mack. It feels awful. I feel awful," I cry a little as he smiles at me.
"Of course it feels awful, Suzanne. Have you ever heard of anyone talking about an awesome depression?" He asks as he stands and I can’t help but laugh again.
"Not really."
"That's right," he agrees sitting on the side of my bed. "Depression is awful and it sucks, and it's so intense you can't see past it without help and medication. But you know this. We've talked about this for years now. We've always acknowledged that you would have depressions, and we've agreed we'd work really hard at getting you out of them so you could live a happy, functional life as best as you can."
"I think I forgot," I whisper as he leans into my body.
"I know you did. But it's okay. You know now what's happening, right?" He asks before just lifting me right into his arms for a Mack hug. "Right, Suzanne?"
Squeezing Mack back as much as I can with one arm, I cry, 'yes' into his shoulder as he nods against my head.
He's right again. He's always right with me. Why don't I ever just ask him first what's going on so he can tell me and make everything more clear for me? Why do I always try to do this shit on my own so I get more messed up when I could just ask Mack? He always tells me the truth and he always helps me.