whispered. “So I borrowed Cleopatra’s story. Marc Antony was dead, and she was so alone. She put her hand in the snake’s basket. And so did I. But I wasn’t alone, was I?”
I shook my head. “No, Thea.”
“I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” she continued. “I know it probably seemed like it. I only did it because that’s what Cleopatra did, and she was me. Her story was mine, so I told it the only way I knew how.”
She squinted up at me.
“You were there. You snatched my hand out of the basket. Because you heard me telling the story when no one else did.” Her voice quavered but didn’t break. “And you stopped Brett. Not just stopped him; you made him a human bowling ball and sent him crashing into my dresser.”
“He deserved it,” I said. “I’d do it again.”
“What was the song you sang to me after?”
“‘I Will Follow You into the Dark.’”
She leaned her head on my shoulder. “Will you sing it for me?”
“Now?”
“There is never a better time.”
“I guess not.”
I cleared my throat and sang to Thea as the afternoon fell toward twilight and the sky deepened to purple and orange. This wasn’t in the job description. It wasn’t in my description to feel whatever I was feeling for Thea. She was too good. It felt too good to be with her.
Nothing good lasts…
I finished the song.
“You’re a beautiful singer, Jimmy.” She sniffed and sat up. “Jimmy with the kind eyes. That’s how I remembered you. Right here.” She put her hand between her breasts, over her heart.
I nodded, staring at her mouth. Ready to kiss her. Fucking dying to kiss her. To fill my hands with her face and her hair. To delve into her mouth and taste the sweetness of her.
But her eyes were still shining with tears over what Brett had done. I had to take care of her. That was my job.
“We should g-g-go inside,” I said.
“Jimmy…” But then she nodded. “Okay. I guess we should.”
I led her back inside the sanitarium, but as the door shut behind us, I felt like I was betraying us both.
Chapter 23
Thea
One week later, Dr. Milton flew back to Sydney.
“If he can leave, why can’t I?” I asked Dr. Chen during one of my morning checkups.
Delia sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling on her phone. Even this early in the morning, she was here, hovering over me.
She heaved a sigh. “Here we go again.”
I made a face at her while Dr. Chen listened to my heart.
“It’s still too soon to know the long-term effects of the medication,” she said, looping the stethoscope around her neck. “We need you in a controlled setting for your safety. Not to mention, you’re only the eleventh candidate in the history of medical science to undergo this procedure. It’s far too early to send you off into the world without precautions.”
“I’m fine. I feel great. I remember more and more every day. I want to leave Blue Ridge, rent my own place, get a job. And if there are side-effects to the medication, I don’t want to sit around in here waiting for them.”
I shot her my brightest, most charming smile. The one that used to make Dad melt but never worked on Mom.
“Let me go and we’ll jump off any bridges when we get to them.”
“I’m afraid I can’t condone that at this time,” she said and made a note in her chart.
Dr. C’s a mom.
“This isn’t a prison,” I said stiffly. “I’m not an inmate. I’m a patient. I should be able to leave whenever I want.”
“I have power of attorney,” Delia said and exchanged glances with Dr. Chen. “And so long as the doctors think you’re safer here, then that’s what I want too.”
“That made sense when I was incapacitated. But I’m not anymore. You can’t keep me here against my will.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.” Delia crossed her arms. “We have to wait and see—”
“God, Deel. If the medication stops working, it’s all the more reason for me to get out now. I need to live. I’m not sick. I’m me. I’m right here.”
“Is this about the orderly? Is he putting ideas in your head?”
I threw up my hands. “You know what? I’m actually capable of having my own ideas. And dreams. I want to take a trip. To New York.”
“That’s hundreds of miles away.”
“Do they not have hospitals in New York?” I tapped a finger to my chin. “I can’t remember…”