Page 41 of Lover
I was barely conscious of myself, aware only of the feeling of separation from her, pleading for her to allow me in, to let me explain, while trying ferociously to pull the door from its hinges with my bare hands. The night she died replayed in my mind like a stereoscope. It was a condemnation, a horror that I believed was happening again, the bane of this house that would always take the love it was given and swallow it whole, leaving only husks of its inhabitants behind.
“Callum!” Shouting, a firm grip pulling me away.
“Calm yourself, son!” Hannigan demanded fiercely as Ms. Dillard cried, “This must stop. It must!”
“Callum.” Her voice was pleading. “You’re scaring her.”
I wished for a moment that I was a young boy again who could press my face against her apron and sob, who could close his eyes and find temporary relief from a world that gave you endless trials and only joy when it planned to steal it away at the height of hope.
“I’m losing her again, Helen,” I rasped.
Hannigan entered my line of sight.
“You’re having a panic, Callum. You’re going to calm down and we’re going to go to the parlor. I’ll pour you a drink and you’ll tell me what’s going on. We’ll make a plan. Do you hear me, man? Callum?”
I stared at him, his face a jumble of gray shifting images, converging into the scene of that treacherous water, the cold metal table, blanket draped over a body they wouldn’t let me see, auburn hair hanging in lank strands toward the floor like dead winter vines.
Hannigan snapped his fingers in front of my face. An offense, but it brought me back to my senses.
“Millie is safe in her room,” he assured me. “Ms. Dillard has a key. If necessary, we can go in and get her, but for now, you’re going to leave. There’s nothing we can do.”
“There’s always something we can do,” I spat. “It’s whether or not anyone will let us.”
“Whatever you’re thinking, you’ll have to go through me.” He squared his shoulders. “You certainly could. But would you?”
In terms of size, Dr. Hannigan was average, and though he was in good shape for his age, he was twice my senior. And he was right. If I’d wanted it, I could have had my way. I might have even eventually gotten through that door. But I wasn’t going to, not to the detriment of people I cared for. So, I reluctantly agreed to accompany Hannigan to the parlor.
Walking away from my wife was like abandoning a most vital part of myself, leaving it up to fate or some other cosmic force to reunite us.
I had little confidence that it would.
CHAPTER 23
THE NEXT HOUR felt like a millennium. We sat in the parlor trying to deliberate the next best path to take on this horrific journey. I’d barely come to my senses, still crippled by the grief of what had taken place, the worst of our history repeating. I was ashamed of myself anew for being unable to maintain my composure, for letting my desperation turn me near rabid. Now, again, Millie believed I was a demon, a veritable monster.
She was right. What other kind of man would have done all of this?
My heart still pounded in a declaration of sorrow, demanding that I return to Millie and make it right. However, I was certain that my love wouldn’t be believed, regardless of its earnestness.
“What were they even doing upstairs?” Ms. Dillard demanded, stabbing the fire poker into the grate with determined force, as though she were impaling a beast.
“Felicity took her there.”
“Why?”
“To scare her away,” I replied, exhausted beyond measure. “She’d come to believe that staying in the house would kill Millie.”
“But you were leaving!”
“And coming back, she thought. She took it into her own hands.”
“I had so much hope that with patience it would all fall into place,” the doctor said sadly. “It’s time to call the hospital. I’ll have them ready a room for her and we’ll bring an ambulancein. When they arrive, we’ll tell her everything with the boys standing by.”
“Orderlies, you mean?” This idea infuriated me. After everything, still she was going to end up being dragged away, back to a place that held so much pain for her. We’d done this all for nothing. “They will put a hand on her over my dead body.”
“Callum, have some sense! It won’t be worse than what’s already happened. The men will only be here to keep her from hurting herself if she can’t handle the revelation. The ideal scenario is that she’ll listen and gain some understanding of what she’s experiencing, then leave willingly—with you.”
“No orderlies,” I reiterated firmly, my voice grating in my throat, raw from crying out for her. “Any danger she poses to herself will just be fueled by being handled harshly.”
