A Lady Under Siege(78)

“I knew you would be. I told my therapist you would be.”

“Oh yeah? What’s her take?”

“It turns out that even though I’m paying her, she doesn’t actually believe Thomas is real, and tried to give me drugs to stop me from dreaming. You’re about the only person who does believe me. You do believe me, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“So that’s one point in your favour.”

“I’ll try to think of some more.”

“Believe it or not, Thomas gave me some more. He sang your praises. He’s in your head, don’t forget, so he knows all about you. He likes you—he told me to overlook your many faults and focus on your virtues. He says the only harm you do is to yourself. You’re not wicked, just weak.”

“Not wicked, just weak. That’s good—a nice epitaph. I’ll put it on my tombstone,” Derek smiled.

“Wouldn’t you like something more positive to sum up your life?”

“Thomas likes me, even if you don’t.”

“I want to like you,” she said. “I was thinking about you this morning. I was reading the paper, and there was a story about a doctor who had a tragedy a lot like yours, did you see it?”

“No.”

“He lost his wife and two sons, in a plane crash. And it changed his life—he gave up a very lucrative medical practice, and moved to Africa, and now he devotes himself to helping the poor there. So in a way, a terrible tragedy changed him, and made him a better man. More good.”

“And you’re comparing that to me?” Derek asked. “You try it sometime. See how easy it is.”

“I’m not saying that,” she protested.

He stood up from the couch. “Come here. I want to hug you.”

“Why?”

“For a million reasons. For Thomas, for me, for everything bad that’s ever happened to anyone.”

She came to him, stood before him and held out her hands. He took them and pulled her to him. Tentatively, she laid her head on his shoulder. They held each other close, feeling each other’s warmth, saying nothing for a long time. It was Derek who broke the silence. “Maybe that doctor was bad before, and suffering turned him good. I was good, and it turned me bad. Not bad really, but it made me stop caring about things like good and bad.”

She pulled back to look at his face. “You’re not all bad. You were very nice to Betsy.”

“Until I wasn’t.”

“But then you were again.”

“You’re a very peculiar woman, Meghan,” he said. “I don’t even know your last name.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s my husband’s anyway, my soon-to-be ex-husband’s. I have to figure out what to do about that.”

“Do you think we could ever have a normal conversation?” he asked. “Think we could just talk to each other, once in a while?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you. I’m not going to get together with you just to please him, but I’m open to getting together with you, if we can find a way of connecting, just we two.”

“Only it’s not just we two,” said Derek. “It’s like a ménage-a-trois where one guy promises just to watch.”

“Don’t even try to describe it,” she said. “Let’s not overthink it right now.”

“Usually men say that to women.”

“I know.”

“Or maybe it’s more like, we’ve got Thomas wooing Sylvanne, and now I need to woo you, is that it?”

“Let’s say I’m open to you,” she replied. “But you’ve got to be open to yourself, to find the best in yourself, and give it to me. That’s what I want to give someone, and that’s what I expect in return. Not all this diversion, and clutter, and jokey sarcasm, and substance abuse.”

“You don’t know what I was like before. Maybe I was like this already.”

“I don’t think you were,” she said.

He didn’t argue. He turned away and sat back down on the couch, looking slightly disoriented. “Let me look at you,” she said, lowering herself to sit beside him. He turned toward her and their eyes met, and he felt an odd tremor in his body, warm like a breeze. Her gaze seemed to pass right through him.

“You’re seeing him, aren’t you?” he said.