Page 57 of Fight or Flight
She laughs in a self-deprecating way, and I frown. I have no idea where this is going.
“There are things... Bad things that I didn’t share with you either, Aidan. I’ve been so angry with you. Not even because of what you did. But because you never felt it was safe to tell me about it. And that angered me to no end. Which was hypocritical of me...”
I tilt my head to the side. “I don’t understand.”
Claire looks down at her knees before she taps the space next to her, indicating for me to sit. Slowly, I take the place next to her, as if I was approaching a frightened animal.
She surprised me by grabbing my hand right away and looking me in the eye. The deep sadness in her eyes chills me to the bone, and without hesitation, I squeeze her small palm in mine to show my support for whatever she’s struggling with, even though I may be the last person worthy of consoling her.
“I was a hypocrite because I was angry at you for lying to me or omitting the truth, when I was doing the exact same thing.”
“What do you mean?”
She licks her lips and visibly shudders before going for it. “Aidan, I’m bipolar. I knew it long before we were a couple. And I struggled with my mental health even back in Alaska as a child. I struggled all throughout our relationship, even taking it out on you a few times. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It wasn’t fair.”
Bipolar? I’ve heard of it, but I don’t exactly understand what that means for Claire in particular.
“Can you... ? Uh, explain what that means?”
Claire sits straighter and uses her free hand to point at her forehead. “It just means that my brain consists of two constantly polarizing parts. It’s either super happy to downright manic, or it’s in deep depression. My brain can’t balance the chemical processes on its own, so it’s either this or that. My mom...” she looks away and exhales heavily. “My mom had it. And she didn’t treat it. At least not since I remember. She committed suicide when I was thirteen.”
I take a deep breath before exhaling in a whoosh. “Jesus, Claire. I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t know-”
“That’s not all,” she cuts me off, and her eyes come back to me with a new look. Fear. “Ever since that happened, it was actually hard for me to feel bad about it. To feel grief or sadness because she left. And it was because... I was jealous.”
My head moves back in shock. “Jealous?”
Claire nods her head, looking uncertain. “I know it will sound wrong. It is wrong. But I was jealous that she was brave enough to do this. To leave this world behind and be free.”
“Claire, you can’t mean...” my throat squeezes painfully, making me choke on my words. The thought of the most incredible woman that I know, the woman that I love, having those thoughts is absolutely inconceivable.
“I did it too,” she adds then quietly and shivers. “After your arrest... I cut my wrist-”
“No!” I drop her hand and jump to my feet. I point an accusatory finger in her way. “Don’t you fucking say it, Claire!”
I feel something heavy press on my chest, and I stumble as far away as I can from her. It feels like there’s no air in the room like all oxygen has been removed with Claire’s confession.
I can’t believe it. I did this. I pushed her over the edge. So focused on keeping her that I was ready to overlook her pain. Her struggles. I was so eager to justify it with some teenage anxiety and stupid shit. While my girl was in pain. And then she...
“Hey, Aidan!” I open my eyes to find Claire’s face right in front of me. “That’s not true. Okay? You didn’t let me finish. I’m fine. I’m here, aren’t I?”
I realize I must’ve expressed some of my internal turmoil out loud. Claire’s hand connects with my cheek as she wipes a tear that escapes my eye before she sighs.
“You’re not responsible for what I did, Aidan. I did blame you in the past because it was easier that way. The truth is I would’ve probably done it even if I didn’t meet you or even if we stayed together and things were fine. It would’ve been one silly fight, and I would snap. Things were bad even before Jenny disappeared. The thing that I had to understand myself was that I was the only person who had the power to get me out of this. That this is my fight. Sure, it’s easier to go round after round in the ring if you have people cheering you on from the corner. But essentially, it is me who is standing in the way of getting well. I need to be strong to continue the battle. And back then, I just wasn’t. I saw the easy way out, and I took it.”
She rolls the right sleeve of her dress and presents me with a straight, slightly jagged white scar going from the top of her wrist to almost half the length of her forearm.
For the first time, shame enters her delicate face, and I take her wrist in mine to kiss the spot gently. “I’m so sorry, Claire. For everything. I wish things were different.”
“Me too,” she replies solemnly before grabbing onto my hand and pulling me back to sit on the couch.
Reluctantly, I let her but turned my head away to wipe my tears, conscious of the fact that she already saw them but wanting to appear stronger in case she needed me to lean on.
I hear her slow breaths as she waits patiently for me to get myself together. It isn’t an easy task. I’m still shaken to my core, but I’m also aware that it had to be even harder for Claire to say out loud. So if she can face the day, so will I. There will be time to process it later.
“So, what happens now?” I ask in a lighter tone.
A strange look crosses her face before it goes blank. “I want you to take me somewhere.”