Joy turns to grief and before I can control it, my emotions just spill over. I open my eyes and bolt up in my bed. I laugh for a second before I burst into tears.
I can hear Dr. Sloan moving. Her steps are coming toward me, cautiously. I don’t care. I’m too tired to care. After so many months of being careful, and hiding every emotion as best I can, and fearing the future, and not knowing what’s going to happen next, and thinking I might die, and fighting for my life, and hating Caleb, and loving him….
For fucksake – I watched a man die!
When Dr. Sloan silently puts her arms around me, I crush her to my body. I hold on to her with all my remaining strength. I cry all over this ridiculous fucking woman.
She doesn’t say a word and I’m grateful. Please, just hold me. Please, just hold me together.
I’m so tired of holding myself together.
She rocks me.
I rather like rocking.
Back and forth we sway for endless minutes while I cry and sob all over Dr. Sloan’s suit jacket. She smells nice. Her scent is light and almost fruity. It is distinctly feminine and therefore, far removed from Caleb. With this feminine scent saturating my nostrils, my brain cannot connect to memories of Caleb and the way he smelled when he held me. It feels nice, being free of the pain of missing him.
Reluctantly, I pull away from her. I am still humming with shame. I don’t know what’s come over me. I wrinkle my brow in confusion and shake my head.
Caleb’s scowling face is staring up at me from the photograph in my lap. I feel a pang of longing. Dr. Sloan pushes my hair from my face and I can’t help but think of it in a sexual way. In another time, I’d have thought nothing of it, but now all my interactions seem tainted by my newfound lust. Caleb trained me well.
“I want to help you, Livvie. Talk to me,” she says, softly. I know she doesn’t want to startle me, but already, I feel the tension creeping back into my shoulders. She’s standing too close and the fact she’s talking to me makes me feel cornered.
She must be able to tell, because she backs up. I relax, just a little.
“I would like to see the charges against you dropped, but you have to talk to someone. Agent Reed is…” she searches for the word she wants to use, “very good at his job, and despite his behavior yesterday, he’s a great guy. However, his first priority is solving his case. My first priority is you. He shouldn’t have pushed you the way he did.”
I look up at her from beneath my lashes. I wish she would hold me again
“I’d like a lawyer,” I whisper.
“Of course. If you’re ready to talk, I’ll find a lawyer for you. But, Livvie, the things you need to talk about go far beyond the legal charges. I’m here to help you with that.”
I nod, but say nothing else.
Dr. Sloan returns to her chair and sits. She looks at me expectantly with her green eyes. She’s pretty, in a very down-played sort of way. With her red hair, the brown suit she is wearing does her no favors. Still, there is something about her, something warm and pleasant.
When it becomes obvious I won’t be the one to keep our little conversation going, she reaches for her knitting and resumes the mindless design.
Dr. Sloan presses her lips together, searching for words.
“Do you want to see your mother?”
I don’t hesitate. “No.”
She stops knitting. “Livvie, the people who love you, accept you for who you truly are. No matter what has happened to you.”
“Well there you go. My mother doesn’t love me, Dr. Sloan. She wants to love me, I think, but…I just don’t think she does.”
She nods, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me. What would she know?
“I think your mother loves you a great deal.”
I stare down at my picture of Caleb. I thought he loved me. Could it be the one person I discounted, loves me more than the one I trusted completely? My heart aches. It’s a question I am not prepared to have answered.
Slowly, I crawl under my covers. I want to go back to sleep. I want to be with Caleb again. In my dreams, there is never a reason to doubt my heart. In my dreams, he is everything I want him to be. He is mine.
As if on cue, Dr. Sloan stops asking me emotionally charged questions and once again regales me with tales of free-form knitting and interpretative taxidermy.
Chapter Five
Day 8: