Page 24 of Soul

The doctor waits patiently for one of us to speak moving his eyes to Chase then to me and back. The room seems to fill with a cloying humidity making the space around my body feel clammy and uncomfortable. Chase’s lips turn into a flat line, and that grip he has on my shoulder seems impossibly tight.

Instead of mentioning anything about the abduction or losing Chase’s mother, I blurt out, “Chase and I are eloping tomorrow!”

The doctor’s eyes widen and Chase chuckles then shakes his head. “Baby…” he says on an exasperated sigh.

I turn and look at him. “Well, we are!”

Chase lets out a breath. “Yes, we are doing that, but not only did we agree this was a secret, I doubt the good doctor is interested in this particular line of conversation.”

That’s when Dr. Madison perks up. “On the contrary. I’m very interested in why the two of you think it’s appropriate to elope after you’ve experienced so much in the past three weeks. One would gather that it is a veiled attempt at controlling your life.”

Chase’s eyes go from warm to icy in a second. “I am very much in control.” His tone is scathing.

“As you are used to feeling, I assume. But nothing you’ve experienced in the last three weeks has been in your control. That must make you feel agitated.” Dr. Madison’s eyes narrow and his head quirks to the side.

I can feel Chase’s body tense, his hands turn into white knuckled fists on the top of his thighs. That’s when I slowly scooch back. He doesn’t notice. The doctor, however, does. I close my eyes. I know for a fact that Chase would never hurt me that way, but when a man has gone through what we’ve went through, you never know what type of things come out, and my natural self-preservation technique is to remove myself from the situation as quietly as possible.

Chase stands up abruptly. “You don’t know how I feel!” his words are angry and sharp as nails, directed at the good doctor.

Dr. Madison leans back against the leather chair and looks up at Chase who stands off to the side of the room looking out the French doors. “You’re right, Mr. Davis. I don’t. Why don’t you tell me how you feel?”

Chase looks over his shoulder and scowls at him, then runs a hand through the layers of his dark hair. I hold my breath, desperately wanting to know how Chase feels about everything. He hasn’t said a word. He’s spent the last two weeks taking care of me, making sure I want for nothing. “Inadequate,” he says on a loaded sigh. It’s as if the entire weight of the universe is on his broad shoulders.

Hearingthat, my own eyebrows rise along with Dr. Madison’s. “How so?” He asks. You see, I know this game. I’ve played the therapy game for years and this is how it starts. Dr. Madison provokes you into telling him what’s plaguing you. It’s genius really. I’m just glad it’s happening to Chase and not me. Finally, I get to find out how he’s feeling instead of constantly crying into his chest. Maybe if we both get it out, we’ll be able to move forward, let go.

Chase turns around, hands on his hips, his jacket flaring out. He holds a hand out to me. “My future wife was attacked and abducted on our wedding day, from one ofmyresorts, guarded bymymen.” He points to his chest wearing a disgusted expression. “My wheelchair-bound mother’s throat was slit in front of Gillian before she was taken against her will and held in a fucking ten by ten cell with only a god damned pot to piss in!” He roars, his voice reaching maximum strength. His face is red, the tendons in his neck are bulging, and he continues undeterred. “She was still in her fucking wedding dress, almost five days later, her face and chest beaten black and blue, her ankles and wrists cut deep because of rusty shackles, which were attached to a pulley system above her head. Those same shackles gave her a massive infection. One that could have very well killed her! How the fuck do you think I feel,Doc?” Chase’s jaw is locked down so hard I’m worried he’ll break teeth if he keeps going the way he is.

“Jesus Christ,” Dr. Madison whispers his eyes on me. Because I know him so well, I see the concern in his gaze. To anyone else, he would appear calm and in control. “Gillian,”—he presses his hand to his mouth, swallows, then clears his throat—“we’re going to work through all of this. Thank you, Chase. Thank you for being so candid.”

Chase harrumphs and starts to pace. “Now, tell him what’s fucking with you.” His eyes are fierce, leaving no room for pussyfooting around.

“Um, well…” I take in a tortured breath. “I seem to have a bit of an attachment issue,” I offer.

“A bit?” Chase growls.

I nod noncommittally.

“Doctor Madison, if I left the room right now…” His voice trails off, and he starts to walk toward the door. Instantly, the hairs on my neck and arms stand at attention. My heart pounds in my chest so loudly I can hear it like a drum next to my ear. I turn around and sit up on my knees while gripping the back of the couch.

“No,” I whisper just as Chase’s hand touches the handle. “Don’t leave!” I beg, tears rolling down my cheeks. He turns around, closes his eyes and leans against the door.

“See what I mean?” He lifts a hand, and I glance at Dr. Madison.

Dr. Madison brings his hand to his mouth and leans back in his chair. He pulls off his spectacles and looks at me in wonder. “How long has this been going on?”

I don’t answer, just sit back down and look down at my lap, not wanting the eye contact. I’m tired of being the one always under a microscope. I just want to go back to a normal life. One where I can work and visit my friends when I want to without the fear that someone is going to attack me or kill the people I love.

“The first time I noticed this particular fear was when she woke up in the hospital two days after being found,” Chase says coming back from the door to sit next to me. I curl into his side feeling instant relief.

The doctor nods and writes a few things down. “Gillian, what happens to you when you think Chase is going to leave.” I narrow my eyes. “Meaning physically?”

I lick my lips and focus on my fingers, twisting them together. Chase puts an arm around my shoulder, and I can breathe again. “Um, my heart pounds. I get a little nauseous, shaky, my hearing becomes very acute or I lose it completely. Much like my panic attacks.”

“And does that happen when you’re in a room with other people?”

“Depends on if I know where he is.” Dr. Madison’s eyebrows rise into points at his hairline. “Like last night, the girls and I had a movie night at the Davis Estate. As long as I could see Chase’s office, and I knew he was there, I was fine. I could enjoy the time with my friends.” Dr. Madison nods, writes a few things down. “What’s wrong with me?” Chase hears the fear in my voice and instantly works to calm me. Taking my hand, holding me closer, kissing my temple.

The doctor shakes his head. “Nothing. What you’re experiencing is an acute panic disorder that manifests in panic attacks after dealing with a traumatic event..” Both Chase and I look at him with matching expressions of confusion. “Essentially you’re having a fear that Chase will abandon you which in response brings on the attacks.” Dr. Madison clarifies.

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