Came Back Haunted (Experiment in Terror #10) - Karina Halle Page 0,111

someone who specializes in people like me, whatever the hell that means at this point. Is Dr. Chan a warlock? I don’t know. Anyway, I have an appointment with him just after New Year’s, and she seems to think he’ll be able to prescribe me anti-depressants.

I’ve had long discussions with Dex about this over the last few days. We used to be so anti-medication, and for good reason, that it’s something the both of us have to get used to. But I’ve seen how Dex has moved forward on his pills, which only help, not hinder him, and I have to trust that the medication will do the same to me.

The truth is, I do need it. Still. Even with Samantha kept at bay for now, even though I feel closer to my husband than I’ve ever felt before, I’m still dealing with that darkness. It’s still there pressing down on me, wanting to drown me. I’m still dealing with letting go of the life I wanted, the life I needed. Dex and I haven’t discussed the baby thing again, it’s too soon for both of us, and we’re both too fragile, but it just adds to the weight of everything that I’m already grappling with.

Anyway, I’m sure there will be a lot of ups and downs with the pills. You can’t drink much on them, it takes at least three weeks to work, and sometimes the side effects are less than ideal. But I’m hoping that the right pills, along with more therapy sessions with Dr. Leivo, tackling the nitty gritty, that I can beat this thing.

Dex comes to my side of the car and opens the door for me, helping me out. “Should we go say hi first, or just bring Fat Rabbit and let him go nuts.”

“He’s a good buffer. Bring him in now.”

So Dex grabs Fat Rabbit from the backseat, scooping him up in his arms, and we head toward the house. He lets the dog down on the lawn so he can pee, but by the time my father opens the front door, the dog is running full speed toward him.

He fucking loves my dad, and my dad isn’t the biggest fan of dogs, so go figure. I swear Fat Rabbit does it on purpose.

“Hey Dad,” I say to him, as we go up the front steps. Fat Rabbit is jumping up on him repeatedly, trying in vain to kiss his face, though he’s only getting as far as his thighs.

“Fatty Rab, get down,” Dex chides him, grabbing the dog and scooping him up in his arms where he thrashes around, trying to lick anyone, anything, to death.

“He must be excited for Santa,” my father says, chuckling. It’s a dorky thing to say, but it makes me feel good for a moment, because it makes everything seem normal.

Then when I get close enough to hug my father, I see that things aren’t normal at all.

“You’ve lost weight,” I tell him, and I know it’s not the best thing to say to someone and I don’t really mean it as a compliment either. I mean, he’s lost a lot of weight, his pasta belly having shrunk dramatically, but I know it’s not because he’s on a health kick.

“So have you,” he says to me, holding me tight. “You’re skin and bones, pumpkin.”

That’s not even a little true. Whatever weight I had lost I’m sure I’ll gain it back after Christmas. “I am not,” I tell him. I pull back and give him a quick smile. It breaks my heart to see him like this. He’s smiling too, but it’s a brave face. Now that I know what’s really going on, now that I know the truth of what he’s dealing with, it’s no wonder he looks so tired and worn out. All he must be doing is worrying about me and Ada.

And my mother.

At least tonight I get a chance to set him straight.

Dex and my father exchange pleasantries, though now that I know they’ve been talking on the regular, I can see both how comfortable they are with each other, and also how much they’re not saying.

We step inside, the house warm and toasty and smelling like gingerbread cookies. I can’t tell if it’s the room spray that my mother used to use all the time, or if one of them has actually baked cookies. Either way, Dex puts the dog down and he starts ripping around the living and kitchen, searching for Ada.

“Ada made

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