Chapter 4

Tim didn't believe it.

He thought it was a lie I'd made up to avoid him.

"Hospitalized? For what? She was perfectly healthy, wasn't she?"

Abigail pulled a photo out of the drawer and slapped it down in front of him.

In it, I was wearing a blue-and-white striped hospital gown, sitting in the hospital garden.

My eyes were empty, my body thin, like a doll with no soul left in it.

Tim's hands shook as he picked up the photo.

"This... where is this?"

Abigail's eyes were cold.

"The city mental health center. Severe depression. Closed treatment."

Those words made Tim's chest clench.

Mental health center... closed treatment...

He couldn't make any of it fit with the Denise who was always smiling so gently.

"It's not possible... it's absolutely not possible!"

He muttered it under his breath, his face bloodless.

"She was always fine. How could she have depression?"

Abigail laughed, and the laugh was full of scorn.

"Fine?"

"Tim, three years of long-distance, and did you care about her for even one single day?"

"Did you know that to save money to come see you, she ate nothing but plain bread and pickles every day?"

"Did you know how much pressure she was under at work, that she lay awake whole nights unable to sleep?"

"Did you know how helpless she was when you swindled every cent of her savings, when she couldn't even scrape together the money to see a doctor?"

Every sentence Abigail said left Tim mortified.

He stepped back and only steadied himself by leaning against the bookshelf.

He had always thought Denise was strong.

She was always so sensible, so considerate, never once a burden to him.

He had enjoyed everything she gave him, and never once thought that she had stopped being able to hold on long ago.

He thought of the last time he saw me.

I stood in the doorway, looking calmly at him and Lisa.

Calmly tearing up those three hundred and sixty-five train tickets.

Calmly turning and walking away.

Only now did he understand. That wasn't calm. It was that she had already run out of hope.

"She... where is she now?"

Tim's voice trembled.

"I have to see her!"

Abigail took the photo back and looked at him coldly.

"Do you really think she wants to see you now?"

"Tim, Denise ending up like this is all your doing."

"You'd better pray she gets better. Because if she doesn't, I won't just put you in prison. I'll make you live in regret for the rest of your life."

With that, Abigail was done with him. She turned and walked away.

Tim stood alone in the library, books all around him.

He bolted out of the library and hailed a cab straight to the city mental health center.