His eyes snapped back to mine, raw and conflicted. “I didn’t want this. I can barely understand this,” he said. “The voices, the lost time, the violence. I can’t even trust my own mind right now, let alone be trusted with you.”
I shook my head, frustrated. “So, what? You think pushing me away is better? That hurting me like this, is the answer?”
The vulnerability of his confession was not lost on me. It hit me like a punch to the gut, but I had to remain strong. I caught a glimpse of the broken man behind the facade of the Don mask he wore daily. He showed me a glimpse of his pain, the fear he had from losing control of his own mind, before he shut down. His eyes shuttered closed, and I knew I’d pushed him far enough.
He looked down, unable to meet my gaze. “I don’t know what the answer is, Mya. But I know that staying with you would only end up hurting you more.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Well, congratulations, Sebastian. You’ve already succeeded in that.”
He looked up, something dark flickering in his eyes. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m doing this for you.”
“For me? You think blackmailing me down the aisle was for me?” I spat. “You wanted control, Sebastian. You used my vulnerabilities against me. You made me your fiancée, and now you’re acting like what we had was nothing.”
His expression softened for a split second, a hint of regret flashing across his face. “I had to make sure you stayed. I needed you safe.”
“And you thought the way to do that was to trap me? To manipulate me?” I shook my head, the tears finally spilling over. “You broke me, Sebastian. You made me believe in something real, something powerful, and now you’re pretending it was all just a game.”
He took a step forward, his voice barely above a whisper. “Mya, I never meant to hurt you.”
“Well, you did,” I said, my voice cracking. “You may think you’re protecting me, but all you’re doing is breaking me. And one day, you’ll realize that what we had was more than just sex. It was real. And you let it slip through your fingers.”
With that, I turned and walked away, leaving him standing there in his self-imposed isolation, a prisoner of his own fears. I couldn’t do it anymore. Between Sebastian and Riccardo, I was torn apart inside.
I walked down the hallway in a daze, feeling like I’d lost a part of my body, after what we shared was thrown in my face. I wasn’t watching where I was going and bumped into a small frame.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” I looked down into Eden’s tear-filled eyes. “What’s wrong?”
I led her trembling form to the office and shut the door behind us. Eden sank into the chair, the big comfy chair in the corner, and I sat across from her on the couch, with my legs folded under me.
“I had a bad dream about Uncle D–” She choked on her fear before she could finish saying his name.
In our sessions her uncle was basically Voldemort. She couldn’t say his name without choking or sobbing uncontrollably. As she spoke, I pulled out my pen and paper that was sitting on the table between us, to look like I was taking notes. In reality, I drifted, thinking about how I stopped Darren momentarily with my little drug.
After a less thanthorough pat down, I sat in my new office with a small grin. I’d made it. I could finally start getting the patients I wanted, with limited funding. I’d taken my drug to a pharmaceutical company, and they laughed me out of their building. Now, I had a random selection of inmates that came to me. The most notorious, Darren, the serial killer who hit Virginia’s campus, and wreaked terror for a year, before getting caught.
The guards dragged him in. He was portly and balding. A gross looking man.
“I don’t have all day,” I snapped at the guards. This wouldn’t do. I needed to be friendly. I needed them on my side.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the new doc.” The guards strapped Darren to the metal chair.
“Hello, Darren.” I greeted him as pleasantly as I could, but it riddled my stomach with anxiety.
“What’s your name, beauty?” Darren leered at me. His dead eyes looked me up and down, while licking his chapped lips.
“Dr. Rivers,” I said. I could do this. I wouldn’t get caught.
“Dr. Rivers,” he purred. He had his hand trying to reach his crotch, but the restraints stopped him, and his eyes gazed squarely at my chest.
“So, how are you doing today?” I steered the conversation to the subject at hand.
“What do you think? I fucking hate it here. I want out,” he snarled, the vein in his neck sticking out.
I could see the madness in his eyes now. “I can’t help you with that today, but what I can do is listen to any grievances you have. Maybe I could put in a kind word with the warden.” I wanted him to trust me.
“Can you bring me contraband, doc? I’m lonely, and could use a magazine to look at.”
“They don’t have reading material here? What magazines is the library missing?” I didn’t understand. I mean, this was a private institution, and they knew the warden had more materials on hand than most.