Off the Deep End (82)
“How did you know Isaac was going to be there at the lake that day?”
He’s trying to trip me up with a different tactic. He doesn’t have to play these games anymore. “I told you—I didn’t know anything about what he was planning or why he disappeared. I thought he was working on a school project with a friend. That’s what he told me we were doing. Creating a 3D-printed design of the school.” I laugh at myself. I can’t help it. I feel like a naive teenager. I really had been so swept away by the magic of the experience that I’d turned a blind eye to so many things. “As soon as I heard he was the shooter, I just knew where he’d go. What he’d do. I told you already—we’re connected like that.”
Whenever Amber talks about that day and they ask her the same question, she always goes on about how it was maternal instinct that led her to the lake. But it wasn’t the same experience for me. Instinct had nothing to do with it.
Isaac and I had talked about taking our lives numerous times before. That’s most of what we did in the beginning of our relationship. We spent hours talking about different plans. Just the fantasy of it helped us feel better. Less trapped, as if we still had options. A piece of our life that was under our control. At one point, we discussed doing it together. In that exact same spot where he almost shot himself. I pulled up what was happening on my phone as soon as Dr. Stephens left that day, and I only watched half a clip before I was racing out of the door. I was so afraid I wouldn’t get to him in time.
He looked like such a lost soul standing there in a blood-spattered jacket with a gun in his hand, trembling and shaking like he was in the throes of some strange seizure. The Greers don’t know how lucky they are that I got there first.
Everyone credits Mark with saving Isaac’s life. How he talked him out of it when Isaac pulled out the gun, and I’ll admit, it was a nice move, but I got there almost fifteen minutes before the Greers, and Isaac was an absolute mess. He hadn’t stepped over into the suicide part yet—he was still half in the rampage. I probably saved innocent lives that day.
Dr. Stephens props his elbows on the table and rests his chin on his hands. “So, after all that, how are you? How are you really doing?” He gives me a smile. That dimple.
“You know what?” I smile right back at him. “I’m actually doing really well. For the first time in a long time, I can say that I’m happy.”
This is a fresh start. A new beginning. Isaac gave me a new chance at a life. A reason to live and get up in the morning. That’s all you need. I rub my hand over my tightening stomach. And love. You need that too. You can’t survive without love. I lock eyes with Dr. Stephens. Maybe it’s time I call him Ryan.
What’s that saying about second chances at love? Oh yeah. Sometimes life gives you a second chance at love because you weren’t ready for it the first time. That one there. It’s my favorite.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to all of my readers for reading my twisted stories. I will keep writing them for as long as you keep reading them. Thank you for allowing me to have the coolest job on the planet. To everyone at Thomas & Mercer: my deepest gratitude. Another book in the books—ha! I love being on your team and can’t wait to see what we do next. To Christina—you’re amazing. Thank you for always having my back.