I’ve been awake for hours and the internet is the last place I should visit in my current state of mind. My laptop screen glows blue, but I stare at the dark kitchen wall in front of me, thinking hard. Too hard. Hours of worrying about my sanity and my chances of becoming like Ellen.

“What are you doing?” Josie’s soft voice asks from behind me.

I suck in air. She’s going to look at my screen. My fingers twitch, and I give in to closing the laptop. Well, that looks damn guilty.

I rub my face. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Come back to bed.” She comes up behind my chair at the table and leans her belly against my back. Propping her chin on my shoulder, she examines the closed computer.

I tap a finger on the lid, then open it back so she can see the article.

As if I need to say it out loud, I read to her.

“Children of individuals diagnosed with schizophrenia should be aware of signs of the disease. Onset of schizophrenia is rare in childhood and usually manifests around age 16 and as late as age 30. Men are more likely to show signs earlier than women.”

“What if I end up like Ellen?” I say, my tone confrontational. I want to hear her answer because I have arguments for every one of them.

She stiffens slightly. “You won’t.”

“You don’t know that. What if it happens when I’m twenty-seven? Just because I know I’m fine now doesn’t mean a thing. The delusions and paranoia could sneak in and take over without anyone noticing.”

The thought ticks like a macabre clock in my head. The damned thing started ticking when I found out about Ellen’s diagnosis and hasn’t stopped.

“Stop it. You’re worrying about things that haven’t happened. May never come to pass.” She smooths a hand over my hair.

I hesitate and measure my next words. Taking a deep breath, I mutter, “I’m worried about everything. The future. You and the baby.”

“Well, you shouldn’t. Don’t you know me well enough to realize I can take care of myself?” She leans her head against my cheek and soft strands of hair tickle my face. She smells like fresh laundry and her coconut-scented lotion.

“Okay. But go along with me. What if it happens to me?”

“Then we’ll get you some help.” Her arms tighten around my chest.

“And what if I refuse? What if I can’t tell anything is wrong with me? I want you to make me two promises.” I close my eyes and swallow hard.

She steps to my side and turns my face, forcing me to open my eyes and look at her. Cupping the sides of my face with her palms, she nods and kisses the tip of my nose. “What are they? I have to know what it is first.”

“Promise.”

Her eyebrows draw together. “What is it?”

“If you sense, that it’s happening—that I’m manifesting the symptoms—you tell my dad. You go straight to him. You’ll have enough to deal with and I’m afraid you’ll let your emotions hold you back.”

She stares into my eyes and after a long, serious minute, she nods. “Okay. I promise. You said two things. And the second?”

“You walk away from me. Because it’s not a curable disease. Once it happens, I’ll make your life a living hell.” I look away from the anger in her eyes. Can she tell it’s the last thing I want? It doesn’t matter. It’s the one thing to keep my family safe. There’s no way this won’t be an argument, but I’ve put it off for too long.

Her hands shake as she drops them from my face. “Are you crazy?”

Poor choice of words on her part. “This is the sanest solution for us. I need to know that you and the baby will be fine no matter what happens to me.”

“You think I’d desert you at a low point in life, when things aren’t going like we plan? When you’re sick? I told you that day in the cabin that it’s no different from finding out that you have a heart condition. It’s a brain condition. Don’t you get it?”

“Don’t get so upset—”

She steps back even farther and her face reddens. “Don’t tell me what to do. What a crappy thing to ask of me.”

I stand and shove my hands into the pockets of my pajama bottoms. “I told you from the beginning that this worries me. I’ve never been diagnosed, but I’ve never been evaluated. How do you know I’m not one day away from having a fucking meltdown of Ellen proportions? You think you would live with me? Do you know how frustrating it is to care for somebody like Ellen? I tried to stand by her and look where it’s gotten me. She’s dangerous. What if she’d hurt you yesterday? Or the baby or my mom?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Tears stream down her cheeks. I know why. It’s finally dawned on her that I’m right.

“I’m being smart and thinking ahead.”

She balls her fists and groans. An angry sound as if she’d like to tackle me. “No. You’re not being smart and you’re not thinking clearly. You’re pushing me away because something happened that scared you. It scared me too. All right? But traffic scares me. Having this baby scares me. Living without you scares me.”

“Calm. Down.” I close the distance between us because now she’s shaking. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Josie this angry. And I’m the cause of it.

She shakes her head and takes steps toward me. “What? I shouldn’t have told you about the baby? Wishing I’d given you an easy way to keep your distance?”

“No. Of course not.” Where the hell did that come from? “You’re not listening. This has nothing to do with the baby. I mean…it does, but not like that.”

I’m quickly falling into quicksand.

She puts her head down and stares at the hardwood. “I don’t understand how we’ve moved from being happy together one minute to this. There has to be more. It’s what I’ve been afraid of since day one—that you really don’t want to be with me.”

I grind my teeth in frustration. “I want to be with you. More than anything. But I’m also not a selfish bastard. I’m telling you what I want and expect you to respect my wishes because you care about me,” I say. “It’s why I used to hope you’d find someone who would give you everything you deserve without a chance that it would all go down the tubes. If it does go badly, I want you to have an out. I want you to go on and get married to someone without my issues.” I don’t know why I said this last line. It lances through my chest because Josie might decide she’s better off with someone else. I’ve just given her an out.

“Oh that’s just great. You’re so scared of this…you’d throw us away. You’d want me to get married to someone else?” Her voice catches on a sob and I attempt to drag her into my arms, but she’s not having it. She presses her palms flat against my chest.

“You’ve got it all wrong.”

“No. You know, funny that you bring up marriage with someone else. I’d marry you in a heartbeat. I’d have married you the day after we slept together.” She gulps. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember and it’s always something. Either you didn’t want me in that way when we were younger or now you keep me at arm’s length with this bullshit.”

“You know I love you.” My stomach twists that she doesn’t realize it. How can she not? Doesn’t she see I love her more because I would let her go if something bad happens?

I grab her arms gently and try once more to pull her close. She slaps frantically at my hands.

I’m startled by her actions. She beats a fist against my chest, and I stand still while she does it twice more. “Damn you,” she says in a voice barely audible. “I need you to leave. I need you to want me no matter what. If something were wrong with me, would you desert me? Ever? If you think that’s how love works…” Her words come between gasps and she wrenches herself free of my arms. “I’d like you to go. Go home. I need some space.”

Her words don’t register at first. Then I replay them in my head and see her expression. She’s serious. My lungs struggle and I pull in air like a drowning man taking in water. “I’m not leaving.”

“The hell you aren’t. Either you leave or I do.” She glances down at her body, belly swollen and clothed in a nightgown. “I want to be alone to think.”

My skin feels too tight. My throat works to swallow. I’m afraid to walk out the door. More afraid than I was when I saw Ellen on a rampage in the kitchen with her and Mom. “Butterfly. Don’t make me leave. Please.”

She wipes the back of her hand against her red, tear-stained cheeks. “I’ll call you in a few days.”

“Days? Don’t do this.” I will her with a hard stare to change her mind. I’ve always been confident in my ability to weather any storm, but I can’t do this. Did I know before tonight how dependent I am on her?

“I can’t think about what you’ve asked me to do if we’re together. Right now, there’s no way in hell I’d say yes. If you want me to change my mind, I need time to think.”

I kiss her cheek, the skin hot and wet. My heart begs me to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness, tell her I don’t want anything I’ve said.

But the heart’s not logical—something I’ve known since the first day I looked at my best friend and realized I loved her. That’s it. I love her and would do anything she asks.

“Okay.” I let my hands fall to my sides. “I’ll get some of my things. But please call me if you change your mind or need me. Tonight. Tomorrow. Whenever. I’ll be waiting.”

And then she lets me go.

* * *

I spend three sleepless nights in my bed, my pillow a stranger to me after the months of sleeping at Josie’s. Finally, morning dawns with dark rainclouds on the horizon to exactly match my mood.

I shower and dress, then plan a quick call to Dad on my way out the door. Harper and Leo are still in Texas at her parents’ house and I need someone at Dastardly’s to open the doors.

Pressing Dad’s number, I continue walking and get into my SUV. “Morning. Do you mind covering at the bar for a few hours?”

“I can,” he answers. “Everything okay?”

I hesitate for only a beat. It’s not like he needs to hear about my problems. If I were to tell him about the demands I made to Josie, he’d be the first to say I need my head checked.

But I know I’m doing the right thing. Once Josie thinks it over, she’ll come around.

I step into my vehicle and start the engine. “Fine. I need to check on Ellen. She called and asked me to come.” I fail to add that it’s like going for a root canal—one of those visits you have to make and dread like hell.

“Ah.” Dad’s response is clipped, loaded with judgment. He’ll never understand why Ellen means anything to me at all. But he’ll also never state that opinion—unlike Mom.

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be there. Maybe only an hour or so.” I back out of my driveway. Paisley, a single mom next door, waves at me with her free hand. She holds a toddler on her hip and strolls along with a tiny dog at her feet.

Every person, every object brings Josie to my mind.

Will she tell me to get lost because I’m asking her to make promises she doesn’t like? I grip the steering wheel hard and take a deep breath.

No. She’ll come around because in the end, Josie’s the smartest girl I know.

Dad still talks. “You take your time. Listen…Your mother and I want…”

“What?”

“We want you to know we’re here for you both.”

“I know that. I’ll see you in a little while. Thanks, Dad.”

I disconnect and drive twenty-five miles to the hospital where Ellen asked me to take her. The facility is a newer one, equipped to handle people with all kinds of mental problems. When Ellen gave me her psychiatrist’s contact info last year, I never thought I’d need it. Now, I’m grateful that she planned ahead.

The Ellen I saw on Thanksgiving is dangerous to herself and others. And now I see what I can become—more than an odd person. Someone who could hurt the people who care about him.

My happy little picture of me, Josie and a new baby came crashing in when I played a mental game of what-if.

I park and walk into Brighton’s Wellness Facility. Unease buzzes along my skin, prickling across the edges of my nerves and making my hands cold. A woman greets me from the front desk. “Good morning. Can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Ellen Philips. I’m Dane Delacroix.”

“Let me check,” the woman says and studies her screen. She taps a few keys and looks up. “Can I see some identification? I see you’re listed as an approved visitor.”

I pull out my wallet and give her my ID.

She looks at it for an instant and returns it, then nods to the far side of the room. Picking up a laminated square with VISITOR stamped on the front, she hands it to me. “Here’s a badge. You’ll need to stop at the nurse’s station and you’ll be taken to the client day room.”

The place is quiet and I wonder if many visitors frequent the hallways. I follow the woman’s instructions and a balding older man in blue scrubs, obviously a nurse, takes me to a large room with several tables and chairs. I sit at the nearest one and wait for him to return with Ellen.

“Morning,” I say the minute she appears in the doorway.

The nurse studies Ellen for a second and nods. “You have group at nine a.m.” He checks his watch. “I’ll be back to get you in half an hour.”

I wait for her to come into the room. She shuffles, her feet making a whisking sound against the carpeted floor.

Leaning in, I study her face for signs of life. Is she sorry? Does she even remember? It’s a poor way to begin a conversation, so I push those thoughts aside. “How are you?”

She gives a wry smile, so devoid of humor it hurts. “Is your girl okay? And Cece?”

My chest tightens at her questions. Does she really care? I tamp down the anger that threatens to boil to the surface. “They’re fine. Josie…well, you scared them both.”

“I bet I did. I wanted to, you know.”

“I got that impression.”

The sound of crying from somewhere down the hallway startles me. Then it dies away. “Why did you want to do that?”

“I thought Josie and that baby would take you away from me and you’re the only person I have. Maybe the devil sent them…”

I swallow hard. “That’s pretty crazy, don’t you think?”

She pauses and looks at me, a hard stare. “I’m not crazy. I get confused. It’s different. I…” Her eyes drift away from mine. “I’m surprised you came.”

“I almost didn’t. But I’m here now.” But that’s not the whole truth. I bob my head slowly as I make up my mind to be totally honest. “You called me and said it was important.”

“Oh, yeah. I remember now.” She stares at the half-finished puzzle on the next table. “I really didn’t know if you’d come or not. Do you hate me?”

I rub a hand along the back of my neck. Hate is a strong word. I’m frustrated that she’s the way she is. Terrified of what could’ve happened. But she wasn’t herself. “No.”

“I messed up.”

My lungs stop for a second while my head flashes back to the image of her and Josie. I close my eyes and inhale. Then exhale. It’s not going to help for me to get pissed. “Yep. I guess you did.”

“I haven’t been taking my scripts. I’ve been feeling so good lately. I just knew I could do without them.” Her words drag as if the effort to speak exhausts her. She flutters a nervous hand over the top of her blonde hair, the dark roots an unflattering contrast that speaks of a long overdue dye job.

“Why did you stop?”

“Why should I have to take meds? Normal people don’t. I feel sleepy all the time when I take the pills.”

“You act funny when you don’t.”

She sighs and studies her hands. “She’s real normal. A good girl. I can tell. She’s going to be a good mother.”

“The best. Josie’s the most important thing in....” A hard knot forms in my throat and now I stare at the puzzle instead of looking into Ellen’s eyes.

“You came this morning anyway. Why? Why after what I did?”

I shrug and rub a hand over my unshaven jaw, making a scratchy sound. When I glance up, she’s frowning at me. “I don’t know,” I say and shift in my seat while she continues to scrutinize me. I’m never quite sure what’s behind her eyes so like mine.

That answer’s not true. “Ellen…you can’t help the way you are. Maybe somebody will give me a second chance one day.”

She tears up and lets the fat drops roll down her cheeks. “I’ll try to do better. I’ll take my scripts just so I can be better for you and Josie. You’re my family. Don’t desert me like everyone else.”

“I’m trying to understand and stick by you. It’s not easy.”

“You’re here.” Ellen drags her hand across the bottom of her nose. “It’s the best anyone can do. It’s why you’re my good little boy. I knew it every day I dropped you off at school.”

It crosses my mind to correct her. I’ve lived with Marty and Cece all my life. She’s never taken me to school.

Just another delusion in Ellen’s mind.

The nurse appears from a hallway and waits to the side before speaking. “Time’s up, Ellen. Group is in five minutes.”

“Bye. Tell Josie that I guess I’ll take my scripts because I wanna see that baby.” Ellen wipes her runny nose and holds out her hand to me, as if to shake mine. I take Ellen’s hand, cringing at her unsanitary habits and reminding myself to bring Ellen some pocket tissues next time I visit. What a random thought to have. “Sure thing. Do what they tell you.”

Ellen leans forward to whisper in my ear. “Tell Josie to take care of you and that I’m sorry. Very sorry. The pawn ticket is in my apartment. Go and get it. Get her rings. Okay?”

The rings. Josie’s already said she won’t press charges. I know she’s only doing it for me. “Yeah. Okay. Well…” I glance at the nurse who watches us with a bland expression. “I’ll see you in a week. Bye.”

I think of what I’ve asked Josie to promise—desert me if I ever need medical help. I only want the best for her and the baby. Have I made a mistake? No. Putting Josie first can never be wrong.

Still, Ellen’s words keep echoing around in my head like someone shouting into a canyon. Tell Josie to take care of you.

And following Ellen’s words are the ones in my head from Josie—the voice telling me I’m a hypocrite. I want Josie to abandon me and I can’t bring myself to abandon Ellen.