Nearly Mended Page 3

  “Well, our time is about up. Is there anything you’d like to bring up for discussion before we call it a day?”

  There was, for the past several sessions, in fact. But I had been complete chicken shit to bring it up. And I wanted to, I really did. And as humiliating as it was for me to ask, it was something I had been wanting to push for Nick.

  Nick. Who’d been so sweet to me since he came back into my life. Who took a shot to the chest for me. Who’d held me when I asked and didn’t resent me when I pushed away or emotionally broke down. My reactions had been all over the place that I sometimes wondered if I had become bipolar through it all. Sometimes I just didn’t know what the hell was going on inside me, or why I reacted the way I did. In an instant something could remind me of Zander – a simple touch, smell, simple wording. And I’d snap faster than an overstretched rubber band.

  Believe me, I didn’t want to be this way. Haunted. Damaged. And I certainly didn’t want Nick to continue suffering because of it. He wasn’t the enemy, but at times, my reactions had treated him thus. I wanted to be able to curl up in his arms again, to be able to lie naked with the man I loved and feel the warmth of his skin pressed against me. I wanted to be healthy for him. Of sound mind. Even-tempered. I wanted to be able to combat the things that made me think of Zander and not let it affect my relationship with Nick anymore.

  But apparently, I wasn’t getting there on my own. I needed help. So despite the humiliation I felt spreading from my core outward, I took a full breath and said, “Is there anything you can give me, you know…” I was on the verge of rolling my eyes from the embarrassment. This was so freaking awkward. “…to help me want sex?”

  Like always, she kept her thoughts hidden well, which made my heart continue to pound, wondering what she was silently thinking. “Do you think you’re ready for sex?”

  “It’s been three months, since…” I didn’t even like to think it let alone say it. And here in her office it was all I was allowed to think or say. I loved Nick and I felt like I was punishing him by denying this. I wanted to have sex with him. I wanted…

  “I want it to not bother me to.”

  “But it does,” she was quick to say.

  Looking down, I sucked my lower lip into my mouth. I numbly nodded my head. “But I don’t want it to.” I felt the tears beginning to build, making me blink double-time to keep them back. Of all the horrible things we typically discussed in these sessions, this was what was going to bring on the tears. “It makes me feel guilty. He’s done nothing wrong and everything right. He… He knows when it’s okay to touch me and how much I can take.”

  “Then he understands you’re not ready yet, and that your lack of sexual desire has nothing to do with the feelings you have for him. And I’m sorry Megan, but there aren’t any pills that’ll make you ready for that. Even though you’ve recovered physically from your ordeal, you have yet to conquer the emotional hurdles. And it’s not something you can force ahead of schedule.”

  I sighed my disappointment. Truly, I figured she say something like that, but I felt I had to try. “I just thought some pills would help stimulate me into trying, because I feel like I’ve shut that part of me down so hard that it’s never going to fire back up again. And I don’t want to be this way for him.”

  “Like what way?” she asked, her brows curving with confusion.

  “Broken. Scared. There, but not really. He doesn’t deserve that.”

  With sympathy in her voice, she replied, “No more than you deserve to be the way you are right now. If you truly want to try and become physical with Nick again, why don’t you try baby steps with him?”

  “Baby steps,” I mocked. Awesome.

  “Come on, it’s not that bad. Set aside some time each night and try to rebuild your physical relationship. Begin wherever you’re comfortable. I’m sure I speak for Nick when I say that he’d be happy with whatever you can afford to share.”

  My hand swiped across the mirror, streaking the foggy substance in an arc pattern. I had let the steam go for a long time before coming out tonight, so much that the air that once felt soothing inside my lungs now felt suffocating. Now I was hot and dizzy and exhausted. I opened the door to the bedroom and slid down the wall beside it, letting the cool air drift in and equalize the temperature, my headache slowly beginning to retreat to the deeper recesses of my mind, leaving me the weaker version that had been plaguing me day and night ever since I decided lack of sleep was the way to go. I was tired all the time, but I’d learn to function and pretend otherwise.

  Nick wasn’t here. He’d gone to pick up Thea at the airport so he could drive her home and feel comfortable that they weren’t followed. Thea had never been here, so asking her to constantly double-back when she’d probably get lost on the back roads probably wasn’t the best idea anyway.

  She was going to be here for two days. Why didn’t that stir any kind of emotion inside me? Not happy, not sad, overwhelmed…nothing. I couldn’t shake the feeling that my lack of reaction or affection wasn’t right. I should want to see my family, hear their voices all mixed together in the next room having a good time. But instead I just wanted peace and quiet and to be left alone. Truthfully, I felt a little dead inside.

  But I didn’t like feeling dead. That was something, wasn’t it?

  I didn’t know why I chose him, but right now I just wanted to focus on fixing my relationship with Nick. He was the one I felt bad about hurting. Which was messed up in itself because my family should fall under that category, too. But maybe my brain knew something the rest of me didn’t. Maybe I just didn’t have the strength to take on more than one at a time. Maybe Nick was the easiest. Or maybe Nick was the only one I knew could truly walk away and leave me bleeding inside.

  Or maybe I was just a selfish bitch and never knew it before.

  I dug my fingers into my hair and tugged, letting all my attention transition to the acute pain in my scalp. It wouldn’t do any good to criticize or bad-mouth myself. It is what it is. I’m not a bad person. I’m just not ready to take everyone on yet.

  Suddenly I found myself identifying a response for Thea coming here: reluctance. I wished it wasn’t too late to call the weekend off, but it was. They should already be on their way back here. Right now they were probably talking about me. Wondering how to fix me. Wondering how to make me Claire again.

  I tugged harder, not realizing I had relented the assault on my hair. Which was probably why my inner blame game took over my thoughts again. I groaned and stood to my feet, whipping open the door to the medicine cabinet. I snatched the bottle of meds given to me for depression and swallowed the dry, chalky pill whole. Even I could admit the depression diagnosis was true. Who the hell wouldn’t be after what I went through?

  The mirror was mostly clear now, just a light haze trying to block my reflection, making me appear ghostly. Hell, maybe I was a ghost. Maybe Zander killed me and I was stuck in some messed up purgatory that left me miserable because I had killed someone myself. Charles was a horrible man, and I left him unconscious to burn alive in that fire. Did he feel the fire eat away at his skin like I did? His misery was short-lived either way. Mine continued until this day.

  I leaned over and looked myself in the eyes. I wasn’t going to do this. I wasn’t going to blame myself or feel guilty for feeling the way that I did. I could still get through this, I just needed time. Time and Nick. My affection for my family would follow soon enough. The day was going to come when I woke up and desperately wanted to hug them and never let go. But I wasn’t going to beat them back just because I was still screwed up in the head. I wasn’t going to let my sister ever think I didn’t want her around. I was going to smile and hug her and talk with her and everything else sisters were supposed to do. I wasn’t going to be my sour self and let her leave here thinking anything but how much better I was doing. I’d lie my ass off about everything if I had to. Because I wasn’t dragging anyone else down with me. Nick was already one person too many
suffering from sympathetic-Megan syndrome.

  I shoved my hands off the counter and began getting dressed. Since I had already washed the guest room sheets and cleaned the room, I curled up and read a book that wasn’t hidden from Nick beneath the sofa – a romance novel for older teens like me. But my mind was only half into the story. Sure, I read the words but it wasn’t really sticking. Eventually, I heard gravel crunching beneath tires and I got to toss it aside, moving to meet them at the front door.

  Thea practically squealed when she saw me, leaving Nick behind to grab her luggage as she jumped from his Honda Pilot and ran for it, slamming into me. I had to admit, that got a tiny smile out of me. She kept her grip bone-crushing as she swayed us back and forth, telling me how much she missed me. Her grip was definitely something she inherited from our mother, who was just as bad at squeezing the life out of you. I repeated her sentiment and hugged her back, though more kindly to her ribs than she was with mine.

  I wondered if I ever hugged aggressively like that too at one point.

  Nick cleared his throat behind us, leading Thea to finally release me. My facial expression thanked him. Passing her rolling luggage off, he returned to the SUV. I led Thea to the first room down the hallway. It was set up with the same furniture Nick had in his guest room in Portland – a dark sleigh bed with matching dresser and bedside table, and gender neutral tones in beige and brown, something I’d always found pleasing to the eye.

  “Your bathroom was the first door we passed in the hallway. Sorry it’s not attached.”

  “Eh. Neither is the one in my new apartment,” she said glumly. With a smile, she added, “It’s fine, Megan. I’m not quite the pampered princess I was in high school.” As she rolled her luggage into the corner, her head swung my way, mouth partially agape. Realizing her words, she said, “Sorry. You probably don’t even remember what I was like in high school, huh?”

  I made an um noise as I thought it out. “Sort of. I get flashes of images and the feelings associated with them. But I know from some of the photo albums Mom gave me that you were a cheerleader.” I twitched my nose and cheekily added, “So I understand the princess remark.”

  Hand to hip, she humorously glared at my growing smile. She smacked her lips while deep in thought, and I was pretty sure my sister just playfully referred to me as a bitch inside her head. “Yeah, but I quit after freshman year. Just wasn’t for me. Too much drama from some of the other girls.”

  Nick ducked his head in. Looking to me, he said, “Hey. We got take-out for dinner. It’s ready when you guys are.”

  “Can you believe he’s a chef who can put together all that hoity-toity food and all I get is Chinese take-out?” Thea teased. “I’m really feeling the brotherly love here.”

  “Tomorrow. I promise. Anything you want.”

  He disappeared again. Thea cocked her eyebrows. “Anything, huh? I’m gonna have to think on that one.”

  I stopped her as she tried to pass me on her way out. “Brotherly love?” I asked curiously. “Do you know something I don’t?”

  Her smile began to turn the opposite way. “Oh, no. He hasn’t mentioned anything like that. I was just referring to…” She forced a long breath between closed lips. “It’s just, when you went missing that first time, and most people around us began to believe that you weren’t coming back… We became closer, you know? Because we still needed to talk about you and look for you and not too many people wanted to hear about it. Made them uncomfortable to be around us, so it felt like we were all we had. So now he just kind of feels like a brother to me.” She shrugged lightheartedly, but with a softer voice, she added, “Not because he’s mentioned getting engaged or anything.”

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to marry me right now either,” I muttered, wrapping my arms around me protectively.

  “Megan,” she said soothingly, reaching out to touch the top of my shoulder. “That man would jump the moon for you. And he’s not going anywhere. You don’t need a ring and piece of paper to prove what you two already are.”

  I sighed, ready to smack the crap out of myself. I’d never even thought of marriage before now, so I don’t know why that bugged me anyway. But now that it was out there, it kind of did. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve just been really crabby lately.” Depression and all that.

  “Ugh, me too. I swear I’ve had PMS for two straight weeks now. I’ve been such a cranky bitch.”

  At first I smiled as she laughed at herself. But then I completely froze. My mind went in reverse, full blast. How long had it been? I kept shaking my head as dates went by one by one.

  Two weeks since I began self-defense.

  Six weeks since Nick started his new job.

  Nine weeks since Nick came home from the hospital.

  Twelve weeks since I last saw Zander.

  Thirteen weeks since Nick got shot.

  My head kept twitching. I felt drained and my legs weakened beneath me, and suddenly I was crouching on the floor. “Megan, what is it?” she asked worriedly, both hands taking my shoulders, as if she could steady me even more than the ball I was already curled up in.

  “How long has it been?” I whispered.

  “For what?”

  “It’s not possible.” More twitching. The heels of my palms slammed against my temples, twisting and turning roughly. “Not possible. Can’t be possible. That wouldn’t happen. So wouldn’t happen.”

  My mind felt dazed, my body like goo. My lungs screamed for oxygen but I was breathing, wasn’t I?

  “Megan, I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” She was crouched down in front of me, but all I saw were her legs as they bent in my downward view.

  “It’s been at least three months.”

  “Since what?” she asked.

  “Since I had my period.”

  “Oh, fuck,” she spat.

  “Nick!” Thea cried out. Normally I’d think whatever she was calling out about was probably unnecessary, but something about the tone of her voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I dropped the lid to the chow mein and took a fast pace to the guest room. When I got there, they were both down on the floor, Megan burying her head in her body as it wrapped up in a ball. Thea looked up at me with panic, her bottom lip pinned down by her teeth.

  “What happened?” I asked nervously, bending behind Megan – close enough to lightly touch her back but enough distance not to crowd her. I’d barely made my way to the kitchen. How in the hell did her mood turn around so quickly?

  “She’s late,” Thea answered for her.

  “Late? What do you mean late? Late for what?”

  “I mean late, Nick,” she said firmly, her eyes intensely drilling mine.

  Thank God Megan couldn’t see my face because I doubt it would’ve done her any favors. My heart was already kicking into overdrive as the word late flashed over and over again in my head with bright red lights. Like it was really trying to pound it in there. We hadn’t had sex since before she was abducted.

  Nervously, I asked, “How late are we talking here?”

  Thea held up three fingers, as if she were afraid to say it aloud. No way she was referring to weeks. Three months meant it could be mine or that fucking asshole’s. I quietly mouthed the word fuck, her face completely agreeing with me.

  “Okay. Thea, do you remember that gas station we passed on the way out here, about five miles out?”

  “Yeah. Why? You don’t think they’ll have a pregnancy test, do you?”

  “No, but if you go right at that intersection there’s a small grocery store half a mile down that should. Think you can get there and back without getting lost?”

  “Yeah,” she answered, already standing to her feet and grabbing her purse off the bed.

  “Keys are on the counter.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  She was gone without another word, not even trying to comfort Megan, who I was beginning to wonder might be catatonic or something buried so deeply
in herself. She did not need this kind of stress right now.

  “Megan,” I said softly.

  Her head began shaking side to side, which was actually a good sign at the moment. My palm flat on her back, I could feel the way she was trembling. I suddenly didn’t care if she was having anxiety issues about me touching her. I sat down behind her, resting my back against the bed, and pulled her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her.

  “Don’t freak out on me yet. We don’t know if you’re pregnant. And even if you are, we don’t know that it’s not mine. Okay? Just don’t freak out.”

  Of course, it was too late on that front. But oddly enough, her head emerged enough to lie sideways. Her cheek was flushed, her face moist with tears. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I should’ve realized by now.”

  “Jesus, Megan, no. Stop blaming yourself for everything.” I gently pulled on her, and she slowly let herself unravel and curl into my chest, her right hand fisting the front of my t-shirt.

  “I did notice the first month, but I took a test and it was negative.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You were in the hospital and I knew the result before I saw you again. I figured my body was just stressed. They say that can happen sometimes. But I just… I can’t believe three months have passed and I haven’t realized it never came back. How is that even possible?”

  “I think it’s safe to say your mind has been on other things.”

  “But what if I really am pregnant?” she whispered.

  “When was the last time you really remember having a period?”

  She was quiet for a moment. “When we were living in Portland. Before.”

  “Then if you are pregnant, don’t you think it’s far more likely to be mine?” Longingly, I jested, “We were definitely into sex back then. Like all the time.”

  Surprise, surprise, she actually chuckled. If she wasn’t still lying to me about what happened, then that piece of shit only got to have her one night before she was rescued. Though I liked the odds, I didn’t dare share that thought out loud.