Now
Corinne
“You don’t want me to see my husband.”
I repeat Dr. Phillips’s words, astounded.
He nods. “Just for now. I want you to focus on yourself, rather than on how your actions might affect him.”
“How does that make any sense at all?”
Jude is my rock. My world.
Dr. Phillips shakes his head. “It’s not that we don’t want you to see your husband. It’s that we want you to take a few days to not worry about him, but to think of yourself. It’s standard procedure, Dr. Cabot.”
“Does Jude know? Did he agree to this?”
“He doesn’t like it much, either. But he does agree that you should be focusing on getting better at the moment.”
I feel deflated, like a balloon that has been stomped on.
“I don’t really know how to operate alone,” I admit. “It’s been Corinne and Jude for so long. Focusing on me, and me alone, seems foreign.”
Dr. Phillips nods. “Exactly. Which is why you need some space. Your husband will be waiting for you when you’re ready.”
I swallow and contemplate that. Why do I feel so anxious about that? Of course he will be. He’s my husband. In sickness and in health, for better or worse. We took vows.
“This might cheer you up,” the psychiatrist mentions, and I narrow my eyes. “You do get to have a visitor today.”
“I can have visitors, just not Jude?”
Dr. Phillips shifts his gaze. “While we feel like Jude might be distracting, I do think it might be beneficial for you to not be alone at this juncture.”
I’m still, and when I speak, my words are slow. “Who is it?”
“Your friend Lucy. She’s very concerned about you. She calls and checks on you every day. We’re truly trying to help you, Dr. Cabot.”
He sounds so sincere, yet so clinical.
“Fine,” I say simply. “I’m happy for the visitor. But don’t forget. I’m here on my own volition. No one in their right mind would hold me here if I change my mind.”
“No one plans to,” he agrees. “You’re here because you know it’s best.”
“For now,” I reply carefully.
Dr. Phillips nods. “For now.” He stands up. “Let’s go out and meet your friend.”
I follow him to the common room, where Lucy is sitting uncomfortably on a sofa, surrounded by patients. She’s as out of place as I feel. She looks up and sees me, and I can’t help but notice the way she looks at my wrist, eyeing the bandage, probably looking for the crazy.
But she smiles and gets up and hugs me, and she hands me a coffee.
“Your favorite,” she assures me. “With an extra shot of espresso.”
“Thank you,” I tell her genuinely. “This place has shit for coffee.”
“Okay, well, on that note, I’ll take my leave,” Dr. Phillips says. He looks pointedly at Lucy. “Don’t forget what we discussed.”
She nods but seems a bit uncomfortable. “Okay.”
He walks away, and I pull Lucy to a corner to sit in two chairs with me.
“What did you discuss?” I demand as soon as we sit.
She shrugs. “He doesn’t want me to focus on Jude, or anything from the outside. I’m just supposed to be a set of ears for you to vent to, if you want.”
Her eyes are swimming with sympathy, and I hate it.
“They don’t even want me to visit with my sister,” I tell her. “I’m surprised they let you in.”
“Maybe it’s because I’m more impartial,” she suggests. “I won’t remind you of anything from the past, or stuff like that.”
“Maybe.”
She sips her coffee, and her feet are fidgety. “Do you want to talk about anything?” she asks softly.
I’ve been confiding in her for a year, but I don’t think I can talk about this. It’s just too much. So I shake my head.
“Are you sure?” she asks doubtfully. “It looks like I’m all you’ve got for now.”
I think about that, and it’s honestly tempting. I’ve never wanted to talk about any of it, but I was out in the world and surrounded by the hustle and bustle of life, and it was so easy to distract myself. In here, there’s nothing to steal my attention. Nothing I can do to keep my mind busy. And I decide that’s the method to their madness here.
They literally force you to think of nothing else but your issues.
“My panic attacks weren’t caused by the hospital,” I begin. “I let you think they were, but they weren’t.”
Lucy nods. “Okay.”
“They’re from other issues. Old issues. Issues from a long time ago,” I continue, my words slow. “My dad was cheating on my mother, but I didn’t know it. By the time I found out, it was too late.”
She waits, her legs crossed and her fingers wrapped around her coffee cup. “Too late?”
I nod. “Yeah. My father killed his mistress and her husband. I was there babysitting. I was eighteen.”
“Oh my God. Corinne.” She’s stunned, as anyone would be. “I didn’t know. I would never have guessed. Oh my God.”
I look at the floor. “Yeah. So apparently, they say I’ve suppressed issues and memories, which I know I have, but they’ve caused me to sort of implode now. As you know.”
Lucy fidgets uncomfortably.
“But I swear to you. I’d never try to kill myself. Never. I don’t know what happened.”
Lucy’s eyes are drawn to my bandage again, and self-consciously, I hide it under my other arm.
“You must’ve just been...” Her voice trails off. “I don’t know. Overcome?”
“With what?” I ask desperately. “With crazy?”
She shakes her head. “Of course not. Don’t say that.”
I’m silent. I take a drink. I look at the floor again.
“You really don’t remember anything at all from that day?” she asks, and her eyes...they’re both dubious and fascinated.
I shake my head. “No.”
She stares off into the distance, her slender fingers drumming her knee.
“Why haven’t you told me about this stuff before?” she asks gently. “We’re friends, Corinne. I like to imagine that we’re good friends. You could’ve trusted me with this. Trying to deal with this alone...that’s a heavy burden to bear.”
My eyes well up. She has no idea.
“That’s what Jude says. Sorry. I know I’m not supposed to focus on him.”
She fiddles with her cup awkwardly.
“Well, thank you for listening today,” I tell her, and honestly, it did almost feel good. “You won’t mention this to anyone, will you?”
She shakes her head vehemently. “Of course I won’t. Ever.”
“Does anyone know where I am?”
She shakes her head again. “Not that I know of.”
“They don’t know why I’ve been gone?”
She looks away. “I’m not sure.”
“Lucy.”
She looks at me reluctantly. “They know about the...incident. You were brought into our ER, Corinne. You know how gossipy some of the nurses are.”
“Great.”
She’s silent. She can’t fix this.
“I think our time is almost up,” she says now. “Can I come visit you again?”
“Of course you can.” I hug her. “And bring some more coffee.”
She laughs and stands up, and her pants almost fall off. I roll my eyes.
“You seriously need some new clothes, Luce. You’re so beautiful. You should act like it, not dress like you’re eighty-five.”
She grins. “I’m doing mankind a favor. If I unleash this—” and she gestures at her body “—they would all be devastated by my natural beauty.”
We’re both laughing when Dr. Phillips walks over.
“Can I escort you out?” he asks her. She nods, and I do sense reluctance there, but she’s in a loony bin. Of course she’s reluctant.
“I’ll see you soon,” she tells me. And then she pauses. She turns around, and her mouth is next to my ear.
“You don’t have to worry about Jude,” she tells me. “You know. What your father did. I know your husband would never do that. He loves you. So while you’re in here, don’t worry about him at all.”
I have to chuckle at that.
There are many things in life that I worry about, but Jude being unfaithful isn’t one of them.