Chapter 2

On Friday I went back for my follow-up, and the doctor sitting across from me wasn't Dr. Lambert. It was a young man I'd never seen before.

He wore gold-rimmed glasses, his white coat buttoned up without a single crease out of place.

"Hello, Elaine. I'm your new attending doctor. My name is Fergus Henson."

I froze.

"Where's Dr. Lambert?"

"Dr. Lambert left the practice last week."

Asher spoke up beside me. "Elaine, Dr. Henson trained under Eliana. He's a very skilled specialist. I arranged for him to take your case."

That note of looking out for me in his voice made me sick.

Eliana's mentor.

He really had thought of everything.

Fergus's office was spare. One desk, two chairs.

He gestured for me to sit, and Asher moved to sit too.

"Mr. James, you can wait outside."

Fergus's voice was calm, but it left no room for argument.

Asher's face soured.

"I'm her boyfriend. Nobody understands her situation better than I do."

"That's exactly why. You're the person closest to her, and your presence may affect how freely she speaks."

Fergus pushed his glasses up and turned his eyes to me.

"Elaine, what do you want?"

It was the first time anyone had asked me that.

For three years, everyone had simply assumed Asher could make every decision for me.

Myself included.

I looked at Asher and spoke.

"Wait outside."

His expression twisted like he'd swallowed a fly.

But he swallowed it down and walked out, considerately pulling the door shut behind him.

The moment it closed, I heard him on the phone with Eliana, his voice low.

"...What's the deal with this mentor of yours?"

The office went quiet.

Fergus was in no hurry to speak. He just slid a cup of warm water in front of me.

"Is he always like this?" he asked.

"Like what?"

"Deciding everything for you."

I held the cup, the warmth pressing into my fingertips.

"He just worries about me too much."

Even I heard how false it sounded coming out of my mouth.

Fergus didn't push.

He took out my chart.

"Tell me how you've been feeling lately. Anything at all."

I was silent for a long time.

All that churning feeling, all the humiliation and rage I'd forced down, rose up and nearly broke past my throat.

But I couldn't say any of it.

"I've been fine."

I heard myself say it in a flat, even tone.

"I've been taking my medication on schedule, listening to Eliana's audio every day."

"My sleep's improved a lot too."

Fergus lifted his head and looked at me.

His gaze was clear, like it could see straight through everything I was hiding.

"Elaine, you don't look as fine as you say you are."

"You're angry."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

My heart clenched.

For three years, everyone had told me to stay calm, to relax, to keep the negative feelings away.

He was the only one who named my anger, straight to the point.

"Anger is an emotion. It isn't your enemy."

Fergus's voice was gentle.

"Suppressing it is what makes you sick."

I couldn't hold it back anymore. The tears came without warning.

Not sobbing, just quiet tears, one after another, falling onto the back of my hand.

I didn't wipe them away.

Fergus didn't hand me a tissue either. He only watched me, quietly, giving me the space to let it out.

I don't know how long it took before I finally stopped.

"Better?" he asked.

I nodded, my voice hoarse.

"Yeah."

"Then let's talk about the marriage registration."

My head snapped up.

How did he know?

Fergus seemed to read my mind.

"Your boyfriend, just now, at the door. He told me. He said as long as I confirmed you were stable, the two of you would go register."

My heart sank.

So he'd try to buy off my doctor too.

"Will you?" I asked.

"Say what?"

"Say that I'm stable."

Fergus leaned back in his chair, hands folded.

"My diagnosis is based on my professional judgment alone. No one influences it."

"Elaine, do you want to register?"

He handed the question back to me again.

Did I?

I looked out at the gray, overcast sky, and suddenly I smiled.

"Yes."

"I want to see how long he can keep up the act."