Page 70 of Cuts Like an Angel: Part 2

He stiffened a little. “What about me?”

“You. This.” She gestured at him with the paintbrush. “This thing you're doing. Like you’ve shut the door inside your head. It’s driving me insane.”

“It’s better this way.”

“No. It isn’t.” She grabbed his hand and yanked it, twisting it over so that she could see his arm. “See this. This is not better. You close off inside there, but it comes out here. Don’t think I don’t know. That I don’t see the fresh cuts on your body. It hurts me every time you do it.”

“I don’t cut you.”

“You might as well,” she cried. “Every time I see a new wound, a new cut. You’re breaking my heart, William.”

“Stop attaching your emotions to my issues. They’re my issues. William’s issues,” Josh said defensively.

The look on Rosie’s face just then as he said that was exactly the reason he didn’t want William.

“You are William.”

“No,” he said shaking his head. “I hate William. William is an idiot. William does everything wrong. If I could kill him, I would. If I could slam him out of my body, I would.” He thumbed himself in the chest, hard, demonstrating his frustration. “William is pathetic. Puts his mother in a hospital to rot like she fucking deserves, then can’t stay away from her. He’s the pendulum of dumb and dumber, and I’m kind of sick of it. Aren’t you?”

Rosie stared at him for several seconds, maybe on the verge of agreeing before she said, “I booked an appointment with Carly.” She held his gaze, bravely. “She said I can go to. I am coming with you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I won’t go,” he said, simply

She folded her arms across her chest. “If you don’t go there, she is coming here. It’s your choice.”

* * *

The silence was tangible in the car on the drive to Carly’s. William echoed in his mind, trying desperately to bring the sadness back. Josh couldn’t have it. He couldn’t stand another damn day of whiny William. He wanted to be angry with Rosie; he wanted to be mad at Carly. But he wasn’t going down that route. Anger eventually led to William because the world couldn’t handle Josh’s rage and that required him to hide out in the William Ward until it passed without other people’s bloodshed.

Carly opened the door before they had even got out of the car, like she had been watching for them. Couldn’t they see he didn’t need this? He didn’t need therapy. Josh was fine. A bundle of fine.

“Josh,” Carly said, smiling at him the way she always did when he arrived.

He smiled back at her, his mental wall locking into place. William was in his cage. He’d stay there too.

Carly had made coffee and laid it out on the small table in the middle of the room. “I thought we would sit in the conservatory today. Such a wonderful day. Shame to waste the last of the summer days.”

“I’d like that,” replied Rosie.

“So, Josh. Tell me how you have been,” Carly said, sitting down on one of the smaller rattan chairs. Josh took the small couch and Rosie sat next to him.

“I’m fine. Decorating the house and things.”

He hated this starting part. The chit chat. How have you been? What have you been up to? Why couldn’t therapists just get straight to the real questions? How many times have you cut this week? Did you try to kill yourself again? Woke up crying? Dragged your ass out of bed even though you’d rather die than face the day?

He sat back on the sofa, foot resting on his knee, arm across the top. A picture of relaxation.

“You didn’t come to your appointment yesterday,” Carly said, reclining a little.

“I didn’t need to.”

“And the day before?”

“I was fine then too.”

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