Fake (A Pretty Pill) (19 page)

I find myself
analyzing Isi; because I have just witnessed her stand up for me to her mother and I realize that Shae would never have done that.  She didn’t want her parents knowing I had bipolar since they have mental illness prejudices. 

In fact
Shae had no plans to ever tell them for as long as we were together, which I had thought would be forever. That never could’ve worked out; but while we were together I loved her and I was willing to believe that it would work out.  Of course, now I understand that they finally found out and convinced her to leave me.  Shae never could say no to her parents.  She was soft and easy to control wherever they were concerned.  She is very different to Isi.

I think Shae and I got bogged down in the idealistic concept of love being able to withstand anything, especially if you didn’t admit it was there, lurking under the carpet.  I don’t think we truly und
erstood the nature of real love; that it needed to be open and honest, regardless of what others think; in order to for it to remain strong and steadfast.

For us
, as adulthood swept in; it was clear that keeping such an important secret forever was an enormous concept, filled with huge responsibility.  And once Shae saw me every day and couldn’t escape or have time out; I guess that responsibility became too much for her. 

Shae wouldn’t have been able to keep me contained,
and thus a secret.  She was too soft; I just would’ve repeatedly broken her till she hated me for it. 

I’m
realizing in this moment that what I really need is someone to stand up to me, as well as beside me through the hardship.  I need a strong, real woman that can understand and accept me without fear or regret… and no secrets.

I need
someone who’s not willing to hide anything about me; someone who’ll stand up for me like I will for them in return.

I
breathe in deeply as the sudden onset of acceptance filters through.

I,
I just moved past Shae
. Right now in this moment; watching a beautiful and broken woman combust, I move past Shae and the previous life that I’d envisaged. 

Dr. Jensen w
ould be impressed. 

Sha
e could never have become my future; she was never going to be cut out for that.  She was only ever going to be a blissful stopover in my journey through life.

I’m still standing
here, watching and giving space; waiting for Isi to burn out her rage. 

All the bottles are broken at her feet,
and there is so much wine it has flooded over to me and past my shoes, probably as far as the pristine carpets behind me.

She’s crying hopelessly
, and I wait for that moment she needs me to step in.  But her mother should be watching this; the tremendously selfish bitch should see what she has done to her daughter.

I suddenly feel saddened by the display rather than worried, and
I recognize that this has gone on for an extensive amount of time; maybe I should’ve stepped in ages ago.  She’s been at it now for nearly ten minutes.  I know it doesn’t sound too long, but believe me, it is.

She’s beginning to lag, she’
s tired and yet she just keeps going. 

I walk
a few steps toward her and see her face.  She’s so forlorn and broken; it makes my heart swell, I want to save her; I want to wrap her up and build a fortress for her to live in till she heals.  But I guess that’s what her bubble is for. 
Holy fucking shit.  I’m an idiot.

“Fuck.” I whisper.

“Isi, your bubble. Your, shit.”  I can’t wait for her to combust herself free of this, her God damn bubble’s burst.  That metaphor she used for her walls of containment have been broken.

I was getting over Shae while Isi
was falling apart… not venting, she was falling to pieces.

I walk to her and despite the fact that she’s turned her anger o
ver to the glass in the doors of the kitchen cabinets, smashing the poker into them; I grab her and risk a blow to the head.

She lets me
lift her up though; so swinging her into my arms like a bride, I take her via the lounge area, where her mother is bawling into her hands as she sits in the armchair; I grab Isi’s purse, and then I carry her outside to her car; where I buckle her into the passenger seat and illegally hop into the driver’s seat and drive the car away, since I’m only licensed to ride a motorcycle here in America.

***

“Oh man, you’re going to get so busted.” Hank says.

“No I’m not, because you’
re going to help me.”

I carry Isi into my room
and place her on my bed.  She’s gone catatonic.  She’s completely broken.

She’s just staring into nothingness
… completely flat.

I run my hands throug
h my hair and pull hard at the roots.

“Fuck
.” I scream.

“Isi.” Hank says, moving to her.  “What did you do man?  She looks like she’s OD’d.”

“Her mother’s a mega bitch.  It’s her fault.”

“You’ve g
otta call someone, an ambulance, anyone.  This isn’t normal.”

“I know
; I fucking know all right?”

I crawl up the bed to Isi, she’s lost.  Somewhere inside she’s wandering around l
ost and I just want to join her.  I think I love her – more than a friend.  I think that’s what I was doing before; realizing I was falling for Isi at the same time I was releasing Shae for good.  It was interfering with my ability to process that I should’ve stepped in immediately, because I was trying to sort out the emotional shit inside of me.

“Isi,
please don’t go.” I plead with her.

She hears me, she hears me and she begins to cry.  Great sobs again.  I thought she couldn’t cry anymore, she must be dehydrated by now.

She’s crying in a way that distorts her pretty face and makes her look mortally wounded.

“Isi, please tell me what to do
.”

“Doesn’t she work for a psychiatrist dude or something?” Hank asks.

“Dr. Jensen.” 

I’ll call her.
  I look at the clock on the wall and note that it’s nearing 5pm.  She leaves about now.  I’m so nervous, but I get up off the bed and pull out the booklet I have stuffed in the desk drawer, and then reaching into my pocket, I grab out my mobile and dial the number for her office.  If she’s with a client, I’ll have to leave a voicemail.  If she’s already gone, I’ll have to leave a voicemail.  If she’s there and she answers, I’ll have to break down and cry.

“Dr Jensen.”
she answers.

Shit she’s there.

“Hello?” she asks.

“Dr. Jensen.” I croak, “
It’s Silas.”

“Silas?  What’s wrong?”

“Isi’s broken, she won’t stop crying and she smashed her mom’s house to pieces.”

“Damn,
where are you.”

“The unit.” I begin to cry.
  “I was stupid; I let her break.”

“She’s with you?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be right there.”  She hangs up.

I pull Isi into me and Hank sits on the bedside stroking her hair back from her face.  He goes to the bathroom we share and gets a wet cloth.  Then he’s back beside us and handing the cloth to me.

“Here, maybe this can help.” 
He says, looking lost.

“Thanks.”

He nods and goes out the door.  Then he returns.

“The other two aren’t here yet, they’re probably scoring.”

I’m wiping her face.  Then I’m pulling her body closely back into mine, curling around her.  Hank sits on the foot of the bed.

A knock at the door sounds.  Hank gets up and goes
downstairs to answer it.

Not long after,
Dr. Jensen comes into the room and sits on the bed next to Isi.

“What happened?”

I tell her everything that I witnessed.

“Shit.  Okay, this isn’t the end of the world.  We can definitely move forward from here.  In fact, she’ll be even better when
she reaches the other side of this.” she says, patting my arm which is currently surrounding Isi, pulling her body into mine as I hold her.

She pulls out her phone.

“I can get into so much trouble for this, but I can’t help feeling a little responsible.” she mutters, dialing a number.

“Why?” I croak.

“Because I like her.” Dr. Jensen states firmly.  Then she holds her finger up to me in a wait signal.

“Paula?  Jean
.” she begins.

“Look, could you squeeze a young lady into your program over there?”

She waits and nods; she chews her fingernail.

“Veterans Affairs.” she blurts and stops to listen again.

“Now, I need it now.”

I’m looking at Isi, and she’s looking me in the eyes.  The look is far from blank.  It contains so much pain; I understand her completely.  I place the palm of my hand on her cheek and smooth it over her soft skin.

“I’m sorry.” she whispers so quiet I can barely hear it.

“Shhh,
it’s my fault, I should’ve known better.”

I lean in and kiss her lips.  I couldn’t care less that I have
witnesses.  It’s just a gentle kiss.  A promise to look after her.

I pull back and look back at her and her eyes are once again awash in tears.

I sigh.

“Come on Silas.  I need to take her to a private recovery house.”  Dr. Jensen states.
  She’s been watching us.

“Aren’t they for drug and alcohol recovery?”  Hank asks.

“Not this one.  This is a Mental Health facility.  But it’s very low key.  She’ll be able to come and go Silas.  She’ll be able to get counseling too, and live somewhere else for a while.”

“Okay, but I have to come with you.”

“You can’t come with us Silas.”

“Either I go with you and settle her in, or I’ll hop i
n the car I’m illegally driving and follow you to where you take her.  It’s entirely your choice.” I growl.

Dr. Jensen sighs.

“Put her in
my
car, and
I’ll
drive.” she says.

***

We’ve travelled up into the hills, and I’m glad, because I’ll be able to drive up here in Isi’s car without being caught, at least I hope that’s the case.

“I can no longer see you in a professional capacity Silas.” Dr. Jensen says from the driver’s seat.

“Why?” I ask.

Isi and I are in the back seat together; I’m holding her to me and cradling her head; stroking her hair.

“Things have changed, and my professional conduct is at risk of being questioned.  I’m going to drop you from my list of clients and ask someone else to take over your care.” She explains.

“Why?” I’m still confused.  She’s the best psychiatrist I’ve ever seen or come across.

She sighs.

“Because you’re in a relationship with Isobelle, and since that places you in a more personal forum with me, I can’t treat you anymore.” She argues. 

I don’t correct her when she looks in the mirror for me to do so, and so she continues.

“I’m responsible for upholding professional boundaries, Silas.  Isobelle is someone I occasionally associate with outside the bounds of professionalism.  She is also someone who recently started working for me.  I can’t treat you anymore unless you walk away from her.”

“That’s not going to happen.” I growl.

She sighs again and nods her head.

“Okay, I’ll organize it tomorrow.” She says.

“I’ll never be able to talk to you again?”

“Not in a professional capacity.”

“That sucks.”

“Bend the rules Silas.” She groans.  She’s always telling me to do this.  “Think boy.  I’m still going to be around, and I’m an old bird. I’m more than likely going to give you advice regardless of whether you want it not.” She smiles.

The house looks like just that – a large house; a large ranch house.

Isi’s
room is a shared situation; I’ve carried her inside and placed her on the bed.

I can hear Dr. Jensen talking to the other woman at the doorway.

“He’s her fiancé.”

“Can he fill out some of the paperwork then?”

“Can he take it home with him?  I gather he’ll need to grab her paperwork together in order to fill it all out effectively.  I don’t know all the numbers of my veteran portfolio.”

“That
’s right; you served in Vietnam didn’t you darling.”

Dr. Jensen
chuckles; it’s a painful, sarcastic chuckle with no warmth.  I didn’t know there were women in the Military back then, but I guess Vietnam was no picnic either.