Dean’s last text comes a moment later.
She ruined my life and stole my future. She’s a murderer, and I’ll likely live the rest of my life on disability. Now I’m supposed to show up for her to help her heal and find herself again? No thanks. I hope she burns in hell.
My heart squeezes in my chest as I realize Dean is a lost cause as far as Shae is concerned, and he’s well within his rights to feel that way. Shae is alone in this world, and just like me,she’ll probably die alone. Hot tears track down my cheeks as a deep sense of loneliness settles over me.
As I pull out of my parking spot, I resolve to turn over my own new leaf and make the move I’ve been putting off. With only one life to live, I decide to stop wasting it helping other people find themselves while sacrificing my own happiness and healing.
Shae has taught me much, and I can’t regret my time with her. She has taught me to live in the moment and make the most of each opportunity that arises, and for that, I am forever grateful.
Chapter Forty
“How was your visit, dear?” The nurse enters my room with a kind smile.
Kelly has just left. I always feel better after Kelly visits. Few people really listen to a crazy person, but I find that Kelly still does. She almost regards me like I’m stillme.Like we’re still friends. I miss her friendship—truly—but in reality, I know I only showed her the side of me I wanted her to see.
“It was nice.” I hum more to myself than anyone else.
White shoes shuffle across graying linoleum as she approaches me. She pats my back softly, then replies, “That’s wonderful, dear. She’s such a good influence on you.”
“I told her all about the baby.” I cradle my round stomach, warm tingles fluttering behind my rib cage at the thought of carrying my husband’s child. “I think I’ll name my baby after her, if I have a girl, of course. My husband thinks it will be a girl. He’ll make a great girl dad.”
The nurse nods, lips pressed in a thin line. “And how are the new meds making you feel? Anything different?”
I shake my head, refusing to make eye contact.
“Okay. Maybe that’s a good sign.” She holds a small plasticcup containing a pill in one palm and a glass of tepid faucet water in the other.
I wince. “Do I really have to take them three times a day?”
“If you want them to work, you do,” she retorts, just like she always does.
I take the plastic cup from her and toss the small pill into my mouth like I’m taking a shot. She watches me with the focus of a hawk, then gestures for me to open my mouth so she can inspect it. The nurses have been instructed to be extra diligent in confirming that I swallow my pills after my first week here when they had to pump my stomach. It’s also the reason why they’ve switched my medications—the medicine gave me all-day nausea and a pounding headache. I faked the nurses out for the first week and didn’t take them, then took them all at once late on my first Friday night here and got so sick I was emergency evacuated to the nearest hospital.
I wasn’t trying to kill myself—as much as the doctors thought I was—I just couldn’t stand to stay at the psych hospital a moment longer. I needed an out. I thought spending time at a regular civilian hospital would at least give me some breathing room, maybe some ideas about my next move. But instead, I was under constant surveillance and lost more freedom than I gained.
I stayed in the hospital for four nights.
Upon my return to Pacific View Psychiatric, I was placed in the high-risk wing. Cameras were pointed at my small cot for the next thirty days. I was considered a security risk and forced to take every horse pill they brought me. But after a while, I settled in. I adapted to the routine of breakfast, group therapy, activity time, lunch, rest time, another activity, and then dinner. I began to look forward to group therapy. The social interaction left me feeling high off the buzz. I didn’t know how much I’d missed people until I was forced to spend quality time withthem every day. I also liked that spending time with them made me feel less fucked up.
I can’t regret the knowledge I gained during my early time here. Because of my attempted overdose and subsequent trip to the hospital, I know the procedures in place to deal with an emergency situation, and I’m confident I can use what I’ve learned to make the next phase of my life work for me a little better than the current one.
“Do you need my help to get washed up for dinner, or will you be taking it in your room tonight?” The nurse, I’ve forgotten her name, is tidying my bathroom.
“I’ve got it tonight, thanks.”
“You always seem so positive after she leaves.” The nurse gazes at me with a thoughtful smile.
“Who? Kelly?” I say. “She’s so kind. She says if I work with her long enough, I might be able to appeal my sentence with the judge and get time served, or even transferred to a lower-security facility.”
“She said that?” Her thoughtful smile turns to a frown.
“Yes,” I state.
“Well, it sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you, then.” She pats me on the shoulder. “I know you’re just the girl to make it happen, too.”
I nod. “It sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you too.”
“Yeah?” She’s folding a hand towel now. “How so?”
