Part One
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You don't sleep at all the night before you are finally allowed to visit her.
You drum your fingers anxiously on your steering wheel as you crawl painfully through the afternoon traffic. A bouquet of fresh daffodils lie across your passenger seat.
You don't have any expectations, only hope that she'll agree to see you at all. You know your guilt is misplaced, that she was a danger to herself, that this was necessary. Necessity. The concept you've used so many times to justify your own actions that you don't really know what it means anymore. You can recall as clear as day that final glance, equal parts pleading and accusatory. Like you committed the ultimate betrayal. Jack, Jack. Don't let them take me.
They say she is much better now, that she is cooperative with her doctors and has made a sizeable improvement. You wonder what that could really mean in a few short weeks. Going on ten years and you still don't feel improved. Maybe you never will.
You turn off into the visitors parking lot, surprisingly empty for a friday afternoon. You wonder if the people in this government facility are just like you (her), alone. The nondescript grey brick takes you back to only a few short weeks ago, when it was you who was a patient. The very scent, medical and cold, as you walk in the door puts you on edge. After the customary pat down you are waived through where an orderly is waiting to lead you to her floor. You are escorted to a seating area and informed that she is in session for another few minutes but will be informed of your presence. You perch uncomfortably and pick up a copy of Time, flipping through without really absorbing anything. Twenty minutes pass, then thirty, and you wonder what is taking so long.
"Mr. Bauer," the orderly says. He inclines his head ever so slightly and you feel relief wash through you.
"Thank you," you say. "Is Dr. Ellis around?" He was the psychiatrist assigned to your case as well, the best that the government has to offer, apparently.
"Of course, sir, right this way," for once you're glad your name carries some clout, even in a place where most of the employees have cleaned up your shit and vomit.
"Mr. Bauer," comes the doctors booming voice, accompanied by the appearance of his jovial, red face. "Glad to see you up and about."
"Dr. Ellis," you say cordially, shaking his hand.
"Wonderful that Renee has a visitor," he says, and you can't help but be sad that you're the only one. "She really is making great strides. Of course, you understand the situation. Recovery could take years, but I'm optimistic. She's been very cooperative and I'd be willing to sign off on her release in a few weeks. You must excuse me, but it was wonderful to see you again."
Still, you are not convinced.
The orderly leads you to her room and you both slip inside quietly. The room is light and pleasant enough, though it is almost completely bare. She is lying in her bed, back to you, silent even when her name slips through your lips, unbidden. The orderly lingers, looking unsure. "Excuse us, please," you manage.
"Sir, I'm not supposed to-"
"I'll manage," you say firmly, pinning his gaze. He gulps once and leaves.
"Renee," you say again, "it's Jack. How are you?" You feel bad as soon as you ask, like its another small betrayal.
She doesn't respond, but you can tell she's awake. You can see the knobs of her spine even through what look like comfortable pyjamas. You let out a breath that must sound like frustration but is really just anxiety. There's no vase for the daffodils (shards) so you set them on her bedside table. There is a chair to the left of her bed so you sit down and fold your hands in your lap. You take it as a good sign that she hasn't kicked you out yet.
"I'm sure you talked to the doctor, Jack. You heard him. I'm fine," You hear that hard edge in her voice, the one that makes your breath constrict because it feels like someone else is inhabiting her body. Like she is giving up, slipping away. And nothing makes you more angry than the fact that she will fight for anyone but herself.
"Cut the bullshit Renee. You and I both know you've got him fooled. Tell me, how many times have you tried to kill yourself since they brought you here?"
She finally turns to face you. You see the mask of strength and nonchalance but you also see a deep weariness in her that you feel every day.
"Just the first night," she says, finally meeting your eyes. "After that they kept me in constraints," then, "I'm tired, Jack."
"I know," you murmur, "please don't try to hurt yourself anymore."
She doesn't answer, but closes her eyes. "I'm tired," she says again, meaning for you to leave.
"Can I come back next week?" you ask.
You're thankful for her tiny nod of assent. "Next week," you promise. You rise and hesitate for a moment, but finally press a gentle kiss to her forehead. She flinches almost imperceptibly. You slip away, unnoticed.
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AN: TBC. Please leave a kind (or not) word if you enjoyed it.
