It didn’t take long for the psychiatrists to diagnose Lucas. Chronic paranoid schizophrenia. They used phrases like “severe,” “difficult to treat,” and “poor prognosis.” After all these years, the words still feel like condemnation. Lucas doesn’t deserve this. No one does.
The first time I went to the hospital to see him, I found out the Landrys denied me visitation. Lucas was locked up in this scary hospital, all alone, and I couldn’t have any contact with him.
It would have been kinder to kill me. At least my suffering would end. Those were the darkest days I’d ever faced. Guilt and regret threatened to suffocate me.
I didn’t know it at the time, but Lucas was even worse off than me. Since his admission, he’d refused to eat or speak until he saw me. When his weight loss had hit twenty pounds, they’d finally relented. Now, I’m allowed to visit him weekly with the stipulation that Audrey be present as a chaperone.
It’s the only concession they’ve made in six long years.
So as much as I hate to admit it, Audrey’s right. I can’t bear the thought of losing all contact with him again. I’ve hurt Lucas enough. I have no other options.
Audrey squeezes my hand and gives me a watery smile. “I know you don’t think there was any improvement, but I know he looked better today.”
I know too much to believe Audrey’s words. Can Lucas improve? Absolutely. Without a doubt. I see my patients thrive every day with the proper therapy, medication, and support. But, right now, he is refusing two of these things, and his family support can be considered misguided, at best. Part of me believes his parents think they are doing what’s best for him. The other part of me believes they are doing what’s best for them, hiding their son away from judgmental eyes.
“Okay, Audrey.” I still don’t agree, but I’m all out of fight today.
“Please, Celia, just have a little faith. He’s going to get better and things will go back to the way they used to be. You’ll see.”
She stands and tosses her purse over her shoulder, signaling it’s time to go. I’m grateful for the distraction, because I’m hoping Audrey can’t see what’s written plainly on my heart.
What would my best friend say if she knew I didn’t want things to go back to the way they used to be?
How would she feel if I told her my feelings for Cain are more potent and consuming than anything I’ve ever felt for Lucas, and I don’t think faded memories are to blame?
Unfortunately, my head knows what my heart can’t accept. If she knew any of this, I would surely lose the only family I have left. A person can only shoulder so much loss in a lifetime—I know this to be an irrevocable fact. Audrey leaving me would tip the scale. I would break from the weight of it.
So I tuck my secret away, safely out of sight. It’s what I do best. It’s all I know.
“A Drop In The Ocean” by Ron Pope
Present Day
I TIP BACK the shot glass in one smooth motion and signal to the bartender to bring me another. The whiskey burns a trail down my throat, searing the remnants of the words I spat in anger. I spent the day stewing on what went wrong with Celia and how things could have been different. But fuck that. Tonight I want to drown. Another glass of amber liquid appears in front of me, and I indulge once again.
“Hey, I thought that was you. My cuz getting wasted alone at a local dive. I’ve got to say, not your usual style, man.” Will shakes his head and claps a hand on my back before climbing on the stool beside me.
“Fuck off, man. I’m not in the mood tonight,” I tell him in a clipped tone, looking straight ahead.
“Dude, no judgment here. Hell, I’ll get liquored up with you. I’m just not used to you drowning your sorrows. You’re the happiest guy I know.” Will chuckles and signals the bartender.
I sigh loudly and run a hand down my face. “Look, I appreciate it, really I do. But this happy guy wants to be left alone. Another day, yeah?”
Will squeezes my shoulder and picks up the beer the bartender left him before standing. “I get your not-so-subtle hint, but if you change your mind,” he says, pointing to a group of overdressed douchebags by the pool tables. “I’m with those assholes over there. If you’re up for it later, we could team up and hustle a few hundred out of their preppy asses. Seriously, they need the lesson, so we’d be doing them a favor.”
“I’ll see ya, Will. Fishing next week, right?”
He nods and waves before turning to rejoin his band of idiots. I tug on the brim of my hat, curving it down and pulling it lower, hoping for anonymity. I deserve to nurse the hole in my chest in peace.
I don’t give a shit what Celia says, nothing about last night was a mistake. She’s happy with me. She’s alive when we’re together. I do that for her. Me—no one else. I know what I feel when she’s in my arms, and it’s mirrored back to me in her eyes.
What I can’t figure out is why a visit from Audrey would change everything. We had an amazing night together, and we woke up to an equally amazing morning, and Audrey wiped it away in an instant. What in the hell could she have against Celia and me? It doesn’t make any sense.
When the bartender places another shot glass in front of me, I don’t hesitate. This time, I hardly feel the burn.
“A little birdie told me I might find you here,” Adam says as he takes a seat beside me.
I turn and shoot daggers at Will, who shrugs apologetically. I give him the one-finger salute.
“Don’t be mad at him. He is worried about you, man.” Adam leans in and sniffs. He turns his head in disgust and waves me off. “And now I see why. Your eyeballs are practically swimming in whiskey. Forget about walking a straight line. I’m pretty fucking sure you can’t walk at all.”
“Good thing I don’t plan on going anywhere.” I spin the empty shot glass on the bar and slam my hand down to stop it. “Go home to your kids, Adam.”
“I’m on my way to do just that. They spent the afternoon with Caroline, so I’m sure they’ll be covered in paint. I’m making a quick pit stop to check on your sorry ass.”
Caroline, the director of New Horizons Outreach Center, has taken quite a liking to Lily and Gage. She babysits almost as much as Celia, and Adam’s lucky to have her. She’s a therapist, just like Celia, but she specializes in art therapy. She’s always cooking up the coolest projects for Lily and Gage.
“You can count on that. Be ready to hose them down outside.” I lower my head and avoid his stare. “You came to say ‘I told you so,’ man?”
“You know that’s not me. What about you? You gonna give me shit about blowing things up with Sara?”
Ah, that’s right, I forgot. While swimming in my own pity pool, I forgot about Adam’s relationship implosion. Evidently, the separation between church and state came crashing down around him, and he didn’t take it well. Sara agreed to babysit the twins for Celia when something came up, and Adam went ballistic. I’m not sure how he’s going to fix this one.
“Of course I won’t.” I angle away from Adam and shake my head. “You know what the worst part of it is? I didn’t fuck up. I didn’t do a damn thing wrong. Honestly, I don’t even have a clue what happened today. All I know is that I was dismissed. ‘Goodbye, Cain. See ya. Thanks for fucking playing.’ It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Look, I don’t know if I should tell you this or not, but I found out something today that may shed some light on things.” He grabs the back of his neck and shakes his head. “It’s kind of fucked up.”