I thought I was fucked up when I found out Eliza cheated, but I have never felt this level of fuckery before. It has been two weeks, and Ivy is constantly on my mind—a leech sucking my attention away from work, from normal everyday activities. No matter what I do, no matter how many cigarettes I smoke or how much alcohol I drink, I can’t stop thinking about her.
I haven’t told anyone about what she did. Not yet. I can’t bring myself to do that. I feel like such a fool to have been played for months. Eliza is embarrassed, too. At first, she was intent on telling everyone, presumably because of the grudge she harbors for Emily exposing her affair, but then she changed her mind—said Ivy embarrassed her once, and she didn’t want to let her do it again. Dr. Sanders told me she would keep it a secret, that she would let me tell Deacon myself. So, I invited him out for a drink. Enough time has gone by that I think he has cooled down, and I can face him.
The bartender drops another Corona on the bar for me as I light another cigarette. The stool next to me is pulled out before Deacon sits down.
“So? I’m here.”
I don’t meet his eyes. “You gonna order a drink?”
Peripherally, I see him rub his forehead. “Whiskey,” he calls to the bartender before he props his elbows on the polished wood. “So, what’s up? What could you possibly have to say to me now?”
“I need to talk to you about Emily.”
“Obviously. Should we start with where you fucked her or how many times you fucked her?”
“She’s in the hospital, man.”
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah. She’s sick.”
The bartender places the glass in front of him, and he picks it up. “What do you mean, she’s sick? Like cancer or something?”
I shake my head. “No. Nothing like that. She had some kind of mental breakdown, and—”
He laughs. “Well, she did downgrade, man. I mean—”
“Dammit, Deacon, this isn’t funny. She isn’t the person you thought she was, okay?” I chug the rest of my beer in two swallows.
“What do you mean? Can you just spit it out, because I don’t feel like chumming it up with you right now.”
“You know that drawing? The one the girl I went to school with did?”
He nods, his fingers pulling through his beard. “Yeah. What about it?”
“Emily is Ivy.”
He stares at me, confused, before he laughs again. “Are you fucking with me, dude?”
“I wish I was.”
“But how?”
“A lot of lies, and even more plastic surgery.” My face falls into my hands like I can actually rub away the stress.
“You’re really serious, aren’t you?”
I nod, my eyes sweeping up to the television on the wall.
“But what about her and me? That makes no sense.”
“I don’t know for sure. I don’t know everything yet. But I think you were a stepping stone, man. God, it’s fucked up to say that, but...” I shrug.
Deacon pulls in a long breath before throwing back the rest of the whiskey. “Wow. Fucking wow.”
“How’d you find out about us, by the way?”
He shrugs. “Isabel. But you didn’t hear that from me.”
I roll my eyes. “Figures. Anyway, I’m sorry, man. I’m sorry about everything, I—”
“Dude, no worries. Don’t apologize. Seriously, this is fucked up.” He slaps my back. “You should come to the apartment. Hang out awhile.”
“Really? You wanted to kill me before, and now you’re over it just like that?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I still wanted to kill you up until I walked in here. But you’re my best friend, and to be honest, I don’t want anything to do with that level of crazy, so any feelings I had left for her pretty much just vaporized. What are you going to do? When does she get out? Is she okay now?”
“I don’t know the answer to any of that. I am kind of numb. I don’t really feel anything.”
“Well, come to the house, man. We can talk more about it. Snort some coke or something.”
I cut my eyes to him.
“Bad joke. I’m gonna try to quit, okay?”
“Good for you.” I nod. “Anyway, I can’t. I have to stop by her friend Jared’s house. He has been visiting her, communicating with her doctors and stuff—you know, because her parents died. Everything about her family having that sex toy business was a lie, too, of course. Anyway, I have to get over there. He wanted me to swing by, wanted to talk about some things in person.”
I stand up and leave a twenty on the bar, covering both our drinks. Deacon stands, too.
“Well, let me know if I can help or anything. I mean that,” he says.
“I will.”
When Jared opens the door for me, I sense something is wrong. He hasn’t updated me as to what has been going on with Emily, insisting he didn’t know anything new until this morning when he asked if I would come over. He leads me onto the balcony, and we sit, my patience waning as he seems to collect his thoughts.
“Well? Have they told you anything?” I ask, breaking the silence.
“Basically, her doctor said she snapped—that she’s experiencing dissociative amnesia.”
“Okay. What exactly is that?”
“In layman’s terms, they believe she had a psychotic break and has forgotten huge chunks of time. Her doctor says it can happen after a period of extreme stress or a traumatic event. He believes the catalyst leading up to this was her parents passing away.”
I narrow my eyes. “Okay, but she didn’t change her identity until much later.”
“Right, but it affected her psyche to the point that she was in a fragile state, and she wasn’t able to cope with anything. The consensus is that maybe losing them dredged up memories of losing you.”
“Go on.”
“And she was probably unable to deal with that after a while. After digging around, it was realized she literally had no one in her life. You appear to be the only person from her past who she had a friendship with. So, she went crazy and came up with this solution—to be someone you could love again. She created another life because her own was something she couldn’t emotionally handle anymore.”
“I can accept that part, as crazy as it is. I guess I just don’t understand how she forgot. I mean, is she lying so that I don’t hate her for everything?”
“She’s definitely not lying. That argument you had with her right before she passed out was probably the icing on the cake. The way it was explained to me was that her brain effectively compartmentalized every wrong thing she’d done as Ivy because she couldn’t handle the reality of the situation anymore. She couldn’t backpedal from the lies. It’s like she’s experiencing selective amnesia, because you saying it was probably over after everything she’d gone through to be with you pushed her over the edge.”
I say nothing, but take out a cigarette, offering one to him, his hand waving it off.
“You okay?” he asks.
“It’s a lot to take in.”
“How do you feel about it all?”
I shake my head before pressing the cigarette to my lips. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure that out. Psychotic break or not, she did a lot of crazy shit.”
“But it wasn’t her. She wasn’t well. That’s what the doctor tried to explain. From the moment her parents were killed, she entered this alternate reality. And when she thought she’d lost you, too, she forgot all the bad shit she did. She kind of turned back into herself, just with a new name and false memories. She basically believed every lie she’d told was the truth and forgot the rest.”
I sigh. “I would like to talk to her soon. Is she up for it? I just want to get some more insight. This is all I am thinking about.”
He shakes his head. “Sorry, but I don’t think that’s a good idea—not now. She still won’t accept that she’s Ivy. They’re working on it, though. They’re trying hypnosis and some other therapies. But I’m afraid seeing you would be hard on her after everything that happened at your house. Plus, you need to heal. You shouldn’t see her until you’ve really let this all mellow out for you. I’m still getting over it myself.”
“I guess you’re right. I don’t want to make things worse. Are they hopeful she will remember eventually?”
He stands and leans over the railing as I thump my cigarette over the edge. “Luckily, that’s usually the case. But they can’t say for certain. They’re doing everything they can.”
I nod.
“I know it’s tough to handle. I know you cared about her—both versions of her. Just don’t hate her, all right? She may be missing a few marbles right now, but she’s a good person.”
I put out my cigarette and stand up. “I used to know that.”