Page 40 of Wrapped in Hope
Chapter 15
I hated leavingher like that, but my head is a fucking mess. I can’t bring her into my fucked up world. She’s better off without me. I knew that before I even went over there last night, but I couldn’t help myself. She’s so fucking beautiful. She’s like an angel who’s been sent to hell to rescue me. But she’s an angel, she doesn’t belong in my hell.
It would be best for her if I never saw her again. I can’t fuck up her life any more than I already have. I allowed myself to feel a little piece of hope last night, thinking that we could actually work out. But in the bright light of the day, it was staring me right in the face. This couldn’t ever work out. She’s still in love with my son. Her parents would probably disown her. My wife would hate the both of us. I will ruin her life.
I can only hope that she sees the truth about me. I’m no good for her.
I climb out of my Jeep and walk into the hospital. The smell of disinfectant stings my nose, but I ignore it while I walk to Jane’s room. I stop outside, looking into her window.
She’s lying in bed, looking toward the window. God only knows what she sees. But I guarantee she isn’t seeing the bright light of the day or the trees blowing in the wind. She’s lost to whatever world she has created in that head of hers. Probably one where Dean is still alive.
I place my hand on the doorknob, but before I can twist it, her doctor is back at my side.
“Mr. Brantford, I’d like to speak to you about your wife and her treatment plan.”
I take a deep breath and nod before he leads me in the direction of his office.
“Please, have a seat,” he says as he takes his place behind his desk.
“How’s Jane doing today?” I take a seat across from him, crossing my ankle over my knee.
“Physically, she’s doing well. Mentally, I don’t know. She won’t talk to anyone. All she does is stare out the window and sleep. Is this normal for her? Does she stay withdrawn a lot?”
I nod. “She hardly ever talks to me. I’m lucky if I can get a few sentences out of her a day.”
His gray brows, that match his hair, furrow as the wrinkles around his green eyes deepen with judgement. “And you never thought to bring her in before she hurt herself?”
Anger washes over me. “I’ve tried talking her into getting help for years. She’s been seeing doctor after doctor. All they want to do is give her more damn drugs! Don’t you fucking blame me.” I point my finger in his face as I stand, stress and anxiety pumping through me. “I’ve begged and pleaded with her. She’s an adult, I couldn’t force her to go! What was I supposed to do? Pick her up and throw her over my shoulder to get her here?”
He holds up his hand, palm facing me as he shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to seem as if I was blaming you. Please sit back down.” He gestures toward the chair I just shot out of.
I don’t. No way can I sit down after that shit. I start pacing instead.
Once he’s realizes that I’m too pissed to sit, he continues. “Did you ever believe that she would hurt herself? Can you think of anything that may have triggered it?”
“Of course I never thought she would hurt herself. If I did, I never would have been able to leave her alone.” I start thinking back, trying to think of what could have triggered it. Hope. I mentioned Hope. “I mentioned the girl that our son was with when he died.”
He looks up at me. “Mentioned her how?”
I shrug as I pace, needing to burn off some steam. “I told her that I ran into her. That she was still living in the past and that I was going to try and help her.”
“And you think hearing her name is what caused her to attempt taking her own life?”
“I don’t know. I think, in her own way, she blames Hope for Dean’s death.” I never admitted that out loud before. And now that I do, it makes me realize without a shadow of a doubt, me and Hope, we’d never work. Jane would never allow it. I mean, look what she did just hearing her name.
Anger sets in and takes hold. I’m damn near shaking from it. I can’t sit in his office and answer questions about my mentally ill wife that I tried to get away from years ago. I’ve watched her drive herself crazy. I can’t let her take me down with her. I need to distance myself.
I walk angrily to her room. I open the door and step inside. She doesn’t flinch or look up when I shut the door rather loudly behind me.
I walk around her bed and stand directly in her line of sight. “Jane, we need to talk.”
She doesn’t even blink.
“I know you can hear me, Jane.”
She blinks like my voice is bringing her back to this world instead of the one she’s been living in. Her bloodshot eyes find mine.
“We need to talk.” I grab a chair and pull it to the side of her bed. The metal legs scape off the floor as I do so, but she doesn’t even move. When I’m directly in front of her, her eyes follow me as I sit down. “You promised, Jane. You promised that you would try to get better. Why’d you try to kill yourself last night?” I’m trying my hardest to keep my voice level. I know if I show any anger or annoyance, she will shut down.