“I’m taking the pills,” I tell her.
She looks at me with narrowed eyes. “Fine. Get out!” She pushes me with all of her strength. The shock of her shoving me causes me to back up a step, stumbling into the hallway. She slams the bathroom door in my face and locks the door.
I bang my fist heavily against the wood, while hearing more crashes and bangs. I have no clue what the hell she could be doing.
I take the pills, leaving Tori in the bathroom upstairs, and grab Gavin before heading out. Once inside of the car, I call 9-1-1. For her sake, I tell them it’s urgent. I tell them it takes exactly seven minutes for our bathtub to fill up, and that once it does, we have no more than two additional minutes to prevent my wife from ending her life. That’s if she isn’t finding a way to electrocute herself. Sickeningly, I’ve had to consider each possible method of suicide during the past year. I felt like I had to be one step ahead of Tori at all times. She may have seemed okay and better since her last disturbance, but I haven’t let my guard down or trusted her since then. I was assured she was healthy enough to care for Gavin, even by her doctor who released her from rehab. Still, I’ve had eyes on our house when she’s home alone with Gavin. Our neighbors know of our situation, and they take turns stopping by while I’m gone, acting like nothing more than a friend to Tori.
I’m still sitting in the driveway contemplating what’s right and wrong and what the hell I should do, when Tori runs out of the front door toward the car, screaming and crying. She yanks at my car door and pounds on the window with her palms. “I regret everything,” she screams. Her face is wet with tears, and her eyes are bulging like I’ve never seen. Her hair is everywhere and partly matted to her face. If anyone looks outside or hears her, they will call the police too. Everyone on our street knows we have a small child, and this is not a safe situation for any kid. “I wish I could make it all better. I wish I didn’t cause my mother to do what she did, or leave my sister.”
Gavin hears the screaming and begins to whimper, probably from being scared. “It’s okay, buddy. Don’t worry.”
“I can’t do this anymore! I can’t live with myself. I was able to block it all out until Gavin was born, and then it was like all the lights went back on,” she continues. My chest is aching, partly from hearing the long-awaited truth she’s speaking, but even more for the lie she has been living. I can’t even imagine how she’s kept this secret, hiding the truth for so long.
I open the door and step outside, placing my hand over her cheek. “Listen to me,” I say calmly. “We need to get you some help again, and you’re going to have to come clean about this in order to do that, Tori. It isn’t going to be easy but I can’t sit here, knowing what I now know, and take this path with you, keeping this secret from every doctor you see. No one can help you if they don’t know what’s wrong. Do you understand that?”
She shakes her head furiously. “I understand, but AJ,” she cries. “I don’t want to be around you anymore, and I shouldn’t be near Gavin either.”
“What are you saying?” I ask.
“I can’t do this anymore, AJ. I don’t know how many more times I have to say it before you understand. I don’t want to be married or have a child. I can’t be this person. I can’t.”
“Say goodbye to him, then,” I tell her, feeling various emotions punch me in the gut. I could make excuses for her words, assume she’s saying them out of distress, but she’s said them before, and I’ve convinced her things will get better and she’ll get better. I think the truth is speaking louder than anything I could ever reassure her with. I open the back door where Gavin is eagerly looking at her, urging her toward him. “Do it, Tori,” I snap. She quickly leans in and blows him a kiss. She doesn’t even make contact, and it kills me. He’s reaching for her, crying for her, and she won’t even touch him. At this very moment, I think I hate this woman. I hate her so fucking much. This is not the woman I thought I married.
Tori has moved to the front step of the house, and she has her head buried in her lap. A paramedic has pulled in, and behind that vehicle is a police cruiser. This is turning into a living nightmare. Again.
The officer makes his way over to me and informs me there has been a disturbance report from a neighbor, as well as receiving my call. I can’t say I’m surprised by this after what has been going on for the past several hours. She has spent half of that time screaming at the top of her lungs and now brought it outside to continue it. “I think my wife is having a nervous breakdown, Officer. She has had two previous suicidal attempts. Based on her words and behavior, I believed she was about to try again, and I called 9-1-1.”
“The disturbances?” he presses.
“She was angry at me and wanted to let me know,” I inform him.