“Why the hell was I the last to be let in here?” Kyla storms into the room, pushing her way in front of me to get to her sister. She leans down and hugs Zara. “Za-Za, you fucking scared me. Don’t do that to me again.”
“I’m sorry,” Zara says.
“Now, tell me, who do I need to get my husband to kill?”
“What?”
“Did someone do something to you? Hurt you? Touch you inappropriately? What happened to you to make you want to take your own life?”
“Nothing happened to me. I promise,” Zara says. “I’m just… not normal.”
“You’re fucking normal, Zara,” I grunt.
Kyla turns and looks at me as if she’s only just noticed I’m in the room. And then, she’s standing and flinging her arms around me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you for finding her. Thank you for knowing something was wrong.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” I say.
Straightening, Kyla turns her attention back to her sister. “Mum says you’re going to go and stay at a treatment facility. I’m going to pack you a bag. Anything you really want or need to take with you?”
“I’m going there now?” Zara’s eyes widen.
“I think so.” Kyla looks to me as if I have the answers.
“Zara, what do you want to take with you? Your journal? Pink bows?” I smirk at that last one.
“I want pink bows, lots of them,” Zara tells Kyla. Then she looks to me. “I want you to get my journal. Don’t let anyone else read it, please.”
I nod, but I don’t want to move from this spot. If they’re really taking her now, then I’m not going to see her for at least a month. I need every last minute I can get. Going to fetch her journal isn’t something I want to be doing.
“Okay. I’ll go pack you as many pink bows as I can find,” Kyla says. “You want to come with me? The staff isn’t just going to let you into her room.”
I glance at Zara. “I can go later,” I tell Kyla.
“I’ll be okay. They’re not going to take me anywhere before you get back, Ares. I need the bag that Kyla’s been tasked with packing,” Zara says.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you.”
“I’m sure. I really don’t want anyone other than you reading that journal,” she says.
“Okay. I’ll be quick.” I stand, lean down, and press my lips to hers. Then I lower my mouth to her ear. “I love you, P,” I whisper the words so only she can hear them.
“I love you,” Zara whispers back.
Chapter Thirty-Three
SIX WEEKS LATER
“I’m nervous. What if I’m not ready?” I ask Pepper.
It’s been six weeks. I’ve been doing daily sessions with Pepper and all kinds of alternative therapies while I’ve been here. I feel lighter. My mind isn’t as dark a place as it was when I came in. I’m not cured, though. I’ve learnt that there isn’t a cure for clinical depression. I’ve also learnt coping mechanisms and now have tools to help me refocus my mind when it starts to go to those darker places.
“If I thought you weren’t ready, I would have recommended you stay longer. You’re ready, Zara. What are you nervous about?”
“I haven’t spoken to him in six weeks. What if he doesn’t want to see me anymore?”
“Ares?”
I nod my head. I’ve spoken to my parents and my sister once a week. But I haven’t called him. I wanted to give him space and time. Because I realised what I did to him wasn’t fair, and I’m so embarrassed. Ares found me. He was the one who carried me into the hospital. I should never have put him through something like that.
