Patel was still there.
Of course he was.
The fucker.
He looked up when he saw me, something unreadable crossing his face. “They tell you yet?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I’m still allowed to see him.”
Patel exhaled slowly. “Any discharge plan?”
“Tentative. Nothing concrete yet, but it was at least talked about like something in the foreseeable future.”
He stood from the chair he was seated in, stretching stiffly while glaring at me. “I can’t believe they’re buying your bullshit.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “You wouldn’t, would you?”
“How’s he been today?”
Patel studied me for a moment, then sighed, “Not well.”
“Define ‘not well’,” I said, keeping my voice level even as my hands curled at my sides.
Patel glanced back toward Elior’s room, lowering his voice despite the empty hallway. “He dissociated during the afternoon interview. Fully checked out. Wouldn’t respond to his name for almost ten minutes.”
Fuck.“They’re pushing him too far.”
“Yeah,” he said sharply. “Because that’s what they do.” Then, after a beat, more reluctantly, “I pulled the plug on the session. Documented it as medically contraindicated.”
I looked at him then—really looked. The disdain was still there, simmering just under the surface, but it was edged with something else—worry, fatigue.
“Is he sedated right now?”
“Yeah, but a lighter dose,” Patel replied. “The doctors have been getting concerned, rightfully, so that’s eased up a bit. Unfortunately, they can’t just not give him anything. Can’t have him panicking twenty-four hours a day.”
I scrubbed a hand over my face, exhaling slowly. “You know this isn’t helping him.”
Patel’s mouth twisted. “Don’t start.”
“I’m not posturing,” I said quietly. “I’m stating a fucking fact. This approach is destabilizing him. All they’re managing to do is make him worse.”
“I know,” he snapped back, then stopped short, clearly annoyed with himself. He folded his arms, jaw set. “But that still doesn’t meanyouare the solution.”
“No,” I said. “But I am part of his stability. Whether you like it or not, he needs me.”
Silence stretched between us.
“He talks about you to me.” Patel looked back to the window, the stress more than clear on his face.
“About?”
“He’s conflicted. On the one hand, he thinks you used him and then betrayed him. On the other, he… he says he can’t stop loving you. He’s confused,” Patel said, “and that’s tearing him apart.”
