“Because, Simon, you’re your own worst critic. You’re the height of professionalism. You’re so hard on yourself,” she says, exasperated. “You’d never get involved with a patient. You wouldn’t even dream of it, and that’s because your dad married his patient. Your mother.”
I flinch.
I try to not think about it too much. I try to not think about how my bipolar mother was hopelessly in love with my dad. And how my dad was always too busy for her.
This is where they met, at Heartstone.
She was suffering from bipolar 1 disorder, which presents itself with full-blown manic episodes that last at least seven days. Depressive episodes occur as well. It’s easier for me to break-down her illness in technical terms rather than thinking of her as this unpredictable creature going through highs and lows, without her volition.
According to my mother, she fell in love with my dad right from the beginning. She fell in love with how calm and steady he was. How hard-working and sharp-minded. And how he always seemed to know what she was going to say before she even said it.
It always makes me wonder if my mother was making it up. She was fond of stories. Because how the fuck was it that the man who knew her so well, didn’t figure out that she needed him in her life? How could he leave her alone and save the world, when his wife was fucking dying for him?
How the fuck did he not know that his absence was hurting her to the point that she ended up killing herself?
“That’s what drives you, doesn’t it, Simon?” Beth pulls me out of my head. “Being better than your dad. So yes, I know. Everyone who knows you, knows that you could never have done something like that.”
Despite myself, I’m relieved that Beth knows. I never had to tell her; she believed me right from the beginning.
Like her. The snow princess. The bravest girl I know.
But it doesn’t matter. I don’t care about the rumors, but I do care about what happened to Claire.
Because it is my fault.
“What’s your point, Beth?” I ask.
“Do you love her? Do you love Willow?”
I clench my teeth as anger and an unnatural fear grips me. “I am not my father.”
“That’s not what I asked. Do you love Willow, Simon?”
No.
I want to say it. I want to deny it. I do.
But the fucking words won’t come.
You have feelings for me, Simon. I have feelings for you, too.
I don’t deserve her love. Not after the things I said to her. Not after what I made her do.
No wonder she hates doctors.
“I don’t have time for this.” I dismiss Beth and resume packing up all the documents that I’ll need to convince Claire’s parents not to take her off life support.
“Answer me. Do you love her or not?”
I snap the messenger bag shut and almost throw it aside in frustration. “What does it matter? What do I know of love, Beth? Fucking nothing. I know nothing about love. All I know is that my mother killed herself and I was the one who found her body. Do you know that I already knew? As soon as I woke up that day, I knew. I knew she was dead. I hadn’t even seen her. I wasn’t even out of my bed yet. I knew it as soon as I opened my eyes. There was this… fucking coldness in the house. Like she was radiating it out from her body. She was almost blue. The foam had dried out around her mouth. I can’t get that picture out of my head. I can’t sleep sometimes and if I do, I’m fucking terrified of waking up.
“I didn’t even know that she was that unhappy. I didn’t know that she was planning on killing herself. Or how long was she planning it for. I knew she felt it. She felt inadequate when Dad wouldn’t come home. When he would completely disappear during her episodes. I know that. But I didn’t know her end was so near.”
Finally, I focus on her with grainy eyes. “I don’t know anything about love, Beth. All I know is what I’ve seen growing up. And it’s pretty fucking ugly. I’m pretty fucking ugly on the inside.”
I don’t even know why we’re talking about this anymore. It doesn’t matter. She hates me now, and rightfully so.
Needles freak her out, but she practically forced us, forced me to sedate her. She purposely hurt herself because of what I said and like a coward, I wouldn’t even take it back. I wouldn’t even take my words back.
She’s better off without me.
I’m ready to leave so I can drive up to Boston, but Beth’s words stop me. “Have you told him? Did you ever tell him? What you just told me, about how you found her that day?”