Caleb noticed the purple splotches beneath her eyes and the fatigue in the slump of her shoulders. “I can guarantee that I wasn’t drunk when we got into the accident. You can even ask the doctor. My blood-alcohol level was below the legal limit. I swerved to avoid hitting an animal or whatever it was that jumped out in front of us. But that’s no excuse. Please believe me when I say I didn’t mean your daughter any harm. If I could take last night back, I would. I promise to make it up to her any way I can.”
Didi’s mother’s eyes shone bright with unshed tears. “Caleb, you seem like a nice guy, but after the accident and what your father told me . . . There’s something you need to know.”
“What is it?”
She transferred one of the bags to her other hand and took his. “Didi has bipolar disorder.”
He pulled his hand out of hers. Of all the things she could have said, this wasn’t remotely close to what he had expected. “What?”
“Didi told me this was only supposed to last until the end of summer, right? That you’re leaving?”
“That was the original plan.”
“Temporary isn’t good for Didi. You’ve already had a bigger impact than you know. I don’t know when she stopped taking her meds, but the number of paintings in her art room tells me it’s been a couple of weeks at least. This wouldn’t have happened if she’d stayed on them. The only reason why she would go off the rails that I can think of has to do with you. I’m sorry, Caleb, but you changed her life in such a big way that she thought it would be all right if she stopped taking her meds. That there wouldn’t be consequences. Surely you would have noticed her mood swings. One moment she’s as happy as can be, then she’s irritable the next.”
He nodded vaguely.
When she frowned, her entire face reflected her sadness. “Whatever you think you had with her during this time wasn’t real. You fed her mania.”
“I don’t understand,” came out as a whisper.
“Right now she’s heavily sedated. When paramedics found her at the crash site, she was practically suicidal, blaming herself for asking you to drive faster.”
“But it wasn’t her fault.” He spoke, but the words sounded wooden to his ears. All the moisture in his mouth had moved to his hands. He rubbed his palms against his thighs to dry them.
“She’s physically fine, but . . .” She shook her head. “Caleb, I don’t think you know what kind of commitment being with someone who has bipolar disorder is. The medication alone she needs to take . . .”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Best if you just disappear from her life as planned.”
Twenty-Three
CALEB CAME HOME in a daze. The painkillers kept his bruised ribs in check but did nothing for the ache in his chest. He didn’t know what to do. To give in to Didi’s mother’s wishes seemed like what he should do. But to do so would deny the feelings he knew he already had. Either way, pain was the consequence. So in an attempt to clear his muddled thoughts, he spent hours walking around the estate with no real purpose to his wanderings. No trace of the grand party remained. The ballroom lay as empty as it always did on regular days.
The words of Didi’s mother replayed over and over again in his mind. Had it really been his fault that she’d landed in the psych ward? Had he really fed her mania? Whatever that meant. The only thing he knew about bipolar disorder was the mood swings. He suspected that was what everyone knew about it. He had never met anyone who suffered from it before. And Didi had seemed so . . .
Normal.
He hated himself for thinking of the word, but it was already there before he could censor himself. Her mother had said it would be for the best if he disappeared from Didi’s life. But would it, though? Was it what Didi wanted? They had agreed they would part ways after the summer. Just thinking about never seeing her again . . .
He had been so careful. At the first glimmer of love from the girls he had dated, he had cut ties. He had convinced himself that all he wanted was no-strings-attached fun. And of course, the first time he had allowed himself to entertain the notion of falling, this had happened.
Eventually he wandered into the living room. An entire section of the massive space was covered with brightly wrapped gifts—stacked many boxes high. He had forgotten. The party seemed so long ago. Seeing Didi in that dress . . .
A rectangular shape wrapped in simple brown paper and string stood out among the colorful packaging. From its size he recognized one of the canvases he had purchased at the art store with her. His feet couldn’t move fast enough. He picked up the gift and tore into it like a child on Christmas morning.