Page 106 of Love Sick
“Did you see Dr. Fueller’s face?” Alanna says with a giggle in the back seat of our rented limo. “She was adamant to tarnish my reputation so her hospital could receive all the government funding. But you ensured that’ll never happen ever again. I knew you’d change the world, Dutch Atwood.” She snuggles into my side.
The night has turned ugly, but I’ve always found solace in the darkness, so much so now.
It’s a still night. The moon in hiding, and when we approach the gates of Parkfields, it seems fitting the night is somber too.
“I know you’re worried, but you did the right thing,” Alanna says, assuring me. “She belongs where she can get help, not a prison cell.”
How I struck this deal with Alanna was easy—I used Luna’s tactics and love-bombed Alanna. I told her that Luna was unstable and not a suitable character witness for Parkfields.
But I was.
I would dazzle her peers and ensure Parkfields’s reputation was safe.
They would believe me because after my performance, I’m sure I could have convinced them Santa Claus is real.
I also told Alanna I feared Luna would hurt her and that I didn’t want Luna to suffer that way. That she needed help, help only Alanna could give her. And Alanna trusted me because I gave her what she’s always wanted—love.
I told her I intended to keep my promise to protect her from Luna, and protect Luna from herself because I loved them both. Alanna trusted me because this plan is foolproof. But it’s at the expense of Luna.
But I want to help her…and there’s only one way I can. And in one place.
The limo pulls up at this forbidding-looking hospital which houses nothing but pain. We step out into the cold night. I remove my suit jacket and place it over Alanna’s shoulders.
She smiles, her eyes alight with love and life.
She uses her swipe card, and we enter the place I never wanted to step foot in again. I hate that Luna is here, but I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t stand back and watch her destroy her life.
She’ll understand why I did what I did…in time, she will. It needed to be done here.
Alanna slips off her heels so they don’t echo on the floor, it’s her calling card as such, but she’s changed. We all have.
I’ve done things I never thought I was capable of. But love, fuck, love makes you do some crazy things.
We walk down the hallway which is lined with broken hospital beds and wheelchairs missing wheels.
Red, white, and blue streamers limply hang from the ceiling—a Fourth of July memory captured in time. A red telephone booth with a black phone is randomly pressed up against one wall and across from it, a faded poster of Marilyn Monroe.
Above the doorway at the end of the corridor are the wordsActa, non verba, which is Latin for “deeds, not words.”
Alanna opens the door and all I can smell is death…
And I know that, because I’ve been here before. I’ve been here because Alanna brought me down here.
The corridors are dark, but Alanna knows the way. There’s a leaky pipe somewhere. The buzzing of the fluorescents feel like a jolt of electricity coursing through my veins.
We pass rooms which are inhabitable.
This place is hell.
Alanna continues walking, humming a tune under her breath. She walks past a bathroom which is an immaculate white.
A single white tub sits in the middle of the room.
I suddenly can’t breathe because it’s so cold…and that’s because I was once in that bathtub. And Alanna is to blame.
“Everything okay?” she asks when she sees I’ve stopped in front of the bathroom doorway.
But no, everything is far from okay because the holes in my memory are soon filled with color, so bright I can see what Alanna did.