Perfect

Chapter 53 ALEX

ALEX

TWO MONTHS EARLIER

I don’t know what being dead is supposed to feel like, but I’m pretty sure it’s not supposed to be this painful.

I can hear a soft beeping somewhere, and as I open my eyes, a dimly lit ceiling slowly comes into focus. I close my eyes again, muddled thoughts drifting across my mind.

Everything blurs and I fall asleep again, or maybe I don’t. I can't tell.

Once I’m fully awake, an older woman with greying blonde hair appears in the room and introduces herself as Dr. Goodman.

I’m too tired to respond as she tells me I’ve been out for a few days, that I got to the hospital just in time, and that I’m lucky to be alive.

She tells me something nicked a small branch of my femoral artery and I lost a lot of blood, and that’s excluding the rest of the injuries.

Injuries?

Danny.

What happened to Danny?

A vague, blurry memory of screaming and gunshots and so much blood flits across my mind.

Theo happened to Danny.

He showed up.

As I open my mouth to ask the doctor where Theo is and if he’s okay, she pulls out a small biohazard bag from her pocket and holds it up to me. There’s a tiny, slightly bloody item in the bag, and I blink slowly, trying to figure out what I’m seeing.

“This was found in your body during your MRI. We didn’t know what it was at first, but one of the nurses did some digging. It’s a subcutaneous tracker. Did you know about this, Mrs. Murphy?” I don’t answer her, I just stare at the bag.

If Danny had put it there, it wouldn’t have taken him a year to find me.

My eyes slide past the doctor and land on the ceiling as a different kind of excruciating pain shoots through my body.

I shut down to try and escape it, but I’m too overwhelmed to be numb.

The pain triggers more pain, and soon I’m staring at the ceiling, frozen as I feel every emotion I’ve been pushing down and outrunning for ten years.

It’s so agonizing that I can’t do anything but lie there and feel.

I’m hiding too far inside myself to do anything other than stare at the ceiling, and I’m put through another MRI because I can’t acknowledge any of my doctors or nurses. I think Theo visits at some point a few hours later, but I’m not sure. The police must come at some point, but I can’t remember.

I can’t crawl out of the black pit I’ve slipped into.

At some point, on some day, when the room is dark and everything is quiet, I start to cry silently, and I don’t stop for hours, not until a nurse makes her rounds. I shut down and wait until she’s gone before I start sobbing again.

Catherine and Suzie visit, Anna and Jessica visit, and Bailey visits almost every day. They all tell me that Theo’s a wreck and asking about me constantly, but they can’t see how much pain hearing about Theo causes me.

Theo, who microchipped me like a dog and fucking lied to me about it.

When I know I’m alone, I cry about everything. I barely sleep for days on end, followed by days where all I do is sleep. I have flashbacks and nightmares of Danny that span a decade, and nightmares of Theo killing Danny, and dreams of Theo standing over me, broken and defeated and covered in blood.

I start engaging with the hospital staff, but I can’t speak to anyone. I’m too overwhelmed to open my mouth.

I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll never stop screaming.

After a few weeks, Bailey brings Miles’ favorite stuffed cat and rests it by my hand.

“Miles wants me to tell you he hopes you feel better,” Bailey says quietly, and I grip the little orange cat tightly. “He’s been asking about you every day. Can I bring him?” I nod, trying not to cry.

The first time I speak to anyone is to thank Miles and tell him that his cat made me feel better. It’s not a lie, and it makes him smile.

The next time I speak to anyone, I tell the nurses to keep Theo the fuck away from me and that I’m not taking any of his calls.

I’m not talking to that absolute fucking asshole.

Once I start talking, the police show up again. I tell them I don’t remember anything about what happened, aside from Danny kidnapping me and nearly killing me.

My memories and my feelings are my fucking business, and I haven’t made up my mind about what to do with them yet. Mostly, I haven’t made up my mind about what to do with him yet.

On top of crying and sleeping and feeling, I start to think.

***

I’m talking to a newer doctor on rotation about when I’ll be able to go home when a tall woman in a fashionable suit knocks on my door as she walks in. I’ve seen her in the hallways before, and I know my nurses have turned her away, but I don’t know who she is.

“Sorry to interrupt. Should I come back?” I look at her with trepidation and shake my head, beckoning her in before turning back to the doctor.

“Anyway, Mrs. Murphy, like I was saying -” I flinch hard. Definitely a new doctor.

“Shearer,” the woman interrupts smoothly but sharply. “It’s Ms. Shearer, doctor. That should be explicitly listed on her charts.” I’m not sure how she would know that, but I shoot her a look of appreciation anyway.

“Right. Sorry about that, Ms. Shearer. I was saying we’d like to keep you for a few more days, but you can check out at any time.

” I nod and look at the woman pointedly.

The doctor clears his throat and flips my chart closed.

“I’ll let you two talk, then.” I ignore him as he walks out, still looking at the woman.

“Thanks,” I say, my voice soft and hoarse from disuse. “How’d you know?”

“I’m the one who made sure that was listed.” She smiles at me, offering me a soft, well-manicured hand. “I’m Elise Hughes.” I shake her hand quickly and stare at her, waiting. “I’m Theodore Anderson’s attorney.” I groan and drop my head to my knees.

“He’s resorted to this?” If he can’t stalk me himself, he’ll pay someone else to do it.

“He doesn’t know I’m here. He won’t know I saw you unless you want him to.

” I look over at her, and her face is serious.

“May I sit?” I nod, and she pulls a chair to my bedside, tossing her long, sleek ponytail over her shoulder.

“I have his side of the story, but I assume you wouldn’t be dodging his calls if he were telling me the truth.

” I laugh humorlessly, pulling my knees to my chest.

“Theo’s not great with the truth,” I say bitterly.

“Good to know. Would you consider talking to me?” I look over at her, scrutinizing her.

“Why?”

Her face softens. “You’re the only other person who knows what happened, and from what I understand, you’ve told the police almost nothing.

To be completely frank, I think you remember more than you’re saying, and if anyone could tell me the truth about what happened, it would be you. ” I stare down at my hands, thinking.

“You’re not my lawyer, so why should I tell you anything?” She hums, crossing her legs.

“I’m not your lawyer, but my client starts every conversation by asking me how you are and ends every conversation by begging me to see if you need anything. He’s the one that made sure I had the hospital get your name right.” I press my hands over my face to hide that I’m tearing up.

Fucking Theo.

“Plus,” she says quietly, “he told me how he found you, so he’s telling the truth about some things.” I freeze, my breath catching in my throat and betrayal dripping down my spine like ice water, washing away the warmth that had been gathering in my chest.

He told his fucking lawyer?

I look over at her, unable to stop my tears. “I’m glad he told one of us,” I spit, “he just chose the wrong one.” Elise raises her eyebrows and looks out the window as I start to cry, covering my face and trying to keep myself from completely breaking down in front of her.

“Okay, well, that’s…” Elise sighs heavily.

“Look, Alex, on the record, I’m going to ask you to consider speaking to me and testifying or submitting a statement on his behalf.

” She stands, slipping her bag back over her shoulder.

“Off the record? He’s pretty fucking stupid,” she says quietly.

I look over at her in surprise and she pulls out a card and places it on the table near my bedside.

“Please let me know if you need anything, and I mean anything. I won’t tell him what you asked for, and he’ll pay for it either way. ”

“I don’t want anything from him.”

She nods once. “Of course. Can I get you anything before I go?” I nod slowly, anger and resentment coursing through me.

“Yeah. Hang on,” I say, tearing a piece of paper off a notepad near my bed and writing out a quick note, handing it to her.

“Can you give him this?” She takes the note, glancing at it quickly before folding it and slipping it into her pocket.

“He’s going to lose his shit when he sees that,” I warn her quietly, and she exhales slowly.

“Got it. Do you want me to tell him anything, or just give him the note? Our conversation is entirely confidential, by the way.” I shrug.

“You can tell him I’ve known about it since I woke up.

They found it in an MRI.” I look down at my hands.

“Please don’t tell him this, but I haven’t told anyone what I remember because I haven’t decided how I feel about him yet.

” I look up at Elise, but her face stays neutral.

“Your job will be very hard if I decide that I hate him as much as I do right now.”

***

A few days later, Bailey picks me up from the hospital, bringing clothes and a bag of my things that I left at the office, as well as some food. We don’t really talk on the short drive, and she frowns up at the attic of the dilapidated house when she pulls up.

“Alex, why don’t you stay with us for a while? We’d love to have you.”

“I want to be in my own space,” I say quietly, and she looks back at me with concern.

“I get that. Do you need help up the stairs?” I shake my head. “I’ll come over tomorrow, yeah?” I nod, trying not to cry as I lean across the center console and pull her into as tight of a hug as I can handle.

“I love you, Bailey.” She squeezes me back lightly.

“I love you too, babe. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” I nod again, getting out of the car and walking slowly towards the house.

It’s so surreal to be home that I don’t even think about how much has changed until I grab my keys from my bag and see the extra keychain with the shiny new keys to Theo’s place dangling there.

My heart gets ripped out of my body all over again, and I start to feel numb as I make the slow trek up to the third floor. I haven’t moved this much in over a month, and the healing scars on my thigh twinge deeply as I pass through the second-floor landing.

I’m so tired by the time I get to my apartment that I put the food Bailey got me in the fridge and strip out of my clothes, pulling on sweats and Theo’s college sweater and crawling into bed.

It takes me a second to realize that I can still smell Theo faintly on my pillow and in my sheets.

I grip the pillow tightly, pull the duvet over my head, and sob until I fall asleep.

I was so fucking stupid to fall in love with him.

When I wake up a few hours later, I stand in the center of my small apartment, remembering how happy I was the last time I was here. So much of that happiness had to do with Theo, who was fucking lying to me the whole time.

I drift into the kitchen and pull a polaroid I took on my birthday off my fridge, staring at it closely.

I look stupidly happy because I was both stupid and happy, but I stare at the way Theo’s not looking at the camera but at me.

I can see the longing in his eyes, the slight tension in his jaw, and how fragile his smile looks.

I can’t believe I didn’t see how miserable he was.

He wasn’t delusional this time, either. He knew he was doing something wrong, knew he was betraying my trust, and he did it anyway.

I think about how he acted that morning, how stressed he was, the way he held me tight and told me he was sorry, how he promised that he’d make it up to me while he fucked me.

I thought he was talking about things that had happened, not things that were happening.

My heart breaks a little more, and I set the polaroid face down on the counter. I should have known better than to let him in. I did know better, but I chose him anyway because I’m a fucking idiot.

I grab a bottle of wine and head into the bathroom to draw myself a bath.

I’ve felt enough pain today.

I’ve felt enough pain for the rest of my life.

***

I’m terrified to walk anywhere, so I mostly stay in my apartment.

I have a hard time eating, but I’m mostly able to keep from drinking like I used to because of the Xanax and the antidepressants they prescribed me in the hospital.

I want to avoid my feelings, but it’s hard to do, so I lie in bed and reckon with them the way I did in the hospital.

After a week at home, I cook for myself for the first time in a year. It’s just pasta, and I barely eat it, but it feels good.

It feels like a fuck you to Danny.

Bailey comes by every day for the first two weeks, spending time with me and bringing food and taking me anywhere I need to go.

She brings me over to her place for dinner as often as I’ll let her, and Dylan pulls me aside and lets me know that he and Bailey have an extra room, and I can stay with them for as long as I need.

Miles, who doesn’t understand what happened, occasionally asks me if I’m still sick.

Catherine and Suzie frequently stop by my apartment after work, and Suzie’s the first to realize that I haven’t left the house on my own since I got home.

Two weeks after I get home, she offers to go on a walk with me, and I refuse until she pulls a small gun out of her purse and tells me nothing bad will happen to me.

I look at her, surprised, and she pulls me into a brief hug before she shepherds me out of the house.

We start going on walks to Shively Park every time she comes over, and after another two weeks, I make the walk by myself.

I cry the whole time, but I still do it.

Anna and Jessica come over on Tuesdays instead of going to trivia, and we order takeout and watch dumb TV together, keeping our conversations light and easy.

Jessica ragging on a dating show as though nothing happened to me lets me feel almost normal for a little while, but I don’t miss the concerned looks she and Anna occasionally shoot at me.

No one asks me about Theo, but I can tell they all want to.

***

I know I have to talk to Theo before I can make a decision about him, so I call Elise and ask her to help me register to visit the jail without him knowing.

I tell her I have no idea how our conversation will go, but since she’ll have to deal with the fallout, I tell her she should be prepared for the worst.

I certainly am.