Midnight Lily(47)

Sadness filled my chest. "I know. It does seem like too much of a coincidence."

"But maybe it is just that—a coincidence. Perhaps the girl, Lily, had some other reason to leave."

"Maybe." I sighed. "The thing is, if I really did create her—created a whole person, created feelings around that person—then it just adds to my insanity. It could indicate I do require several diagnoses."

"No one requires a diagnosis. A diagnosis of something doesn't change the disorder, it just makes it easier to treat. But if Lily was a symptom of your grief, she's gone now."

"I know," I said dismally. "But, God, she saved me. In so many ways . . ."

"And perhaps that was her role. Perhaps you created her to save you. Perhaps if you search your memory, you'll find that you'd done the same thing before. Perhaps not. The point, though, is that she did her job and then it was time for her to go. It was time for your mind to let go of her."

You know you don't need me anymore, right? But I did. I did need her.

"Wow, that sounds really crazy," I murmured.

Dr. Katz laughed softly again. "They say crazy people rarely question their own sanity."

"Who's they?"

"The crazy people," Dr. Katz deadpanned.

I laughed and she grinned. "And the other piece of good news is that dissociative disorders respond very well to therapy, specifically individual psychotherapy. I'm glad you found me."

"Yeah, me too."

She smiled momentarily and then her expression became serious. "It has been almost a year since you've been back in San Francisco, though. Are you going out with friends? Are you dating again, Ryan?"

"No," I said. "I haven't been interested. And truthfully, I've felt like I needed to focus on getting myself better again."

"Good choice. But don't cut yourself off from other people. You deserve happiness, Ryan. You deserve love. It might be time to make a few social plans, get out, test the waters."

I smiled. "Okay, I'll think about it."

"Good. Very good. You've made wonderful progress today. Our hour's up, but I'll see you next week."





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


Ryan



Returning to work had been one of the easier transitions. The guys had welcomed me back with open arms. Of course, they had never completely understood the extent of what had been going on inside my head. They'd seen me fall apart, start taking pain pills. They'd seen me participate in the same behavior as Holden before he’d died: partying, meaningless sex, reckless driving. They'd even seen me refer to myself as Holden, but apparently they’d just thought it was me acting out as part of the grieving process. Or perhaps as an effect of the drugs and alcohol. They hadn't understood how deeply disturbed I'd been. Otherwise, I'd probably have been committed instead of flown by private helicopter to a remote, luxury lodge. They hadn't known, and that was good because they'd probably never trust me again if they had known the whole truth. Only Dr. Katz knew . . . Dr. Katz and Lily.

Of course, maybe Lily knew it because I knew it. "Jesus." I sighed, despair making my head ache.

"Ryan my man," Jameson, a team member said, entering my office. "How's it hanging?"

"Hey, Jameson. Not bad. What's up? How's the shoulder?"

Jameson rotated it as if in habit. "Better. A lot better. Hey, a bunch of us are going out tonight. Join us."

"Oh, nah, I gotta work in the morning."

"I didn't say you had to get trashed. I know you're past that. I just meant you haven't hung out with any of us in almost a year. We miss you, man." He slapped me on the back and I smiled. "Come on, it will be like your coming-out party. Your quincea?era." He did a few salsa steps. I laughed. "What do you say? There's a whole world out there, sport."

"What the hell? Okay." I had been nervous about going out, about being around the team, around alcohol. But maybe the doc was right. I had to live in the world at some point.

"Good deal. Go home and get yourself dolled up in your party dress and meet us there at nine."

I chuckled. "See you then."

**********

The team had decided to go a bar in the financial district of San Francisco, decorated to mimic a pirate ship with old wooden barrels on the walls and ceilings. Jameson had texted to let me know the guys had a table on the mezzanine level. I made my way through the crowded bar and the guys all stood and gave me a round of cheers as I took a seat. I motioned for them all to sit down, embarrassed. "Okay, okay," I said as they laughed. "Very funny." Mike, a team running back grabbed my shoulder and shook me.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," he said and I couldn't help laughing. It was either that or cry and I figured I'd cried enough for one lifetime. I tried my best to tamp down my anxiety, tune out the overly loud, drunken noise all around me, ignore the smell of alcohol, and just focus on my buddies.

We talked and laughed for a while, and I was genuinely having a decent time, but someone ordered a Jack and Coke.

That had been Holden's drink.

Melancholy assaulted me, and my mood shifted. Suddenly, I was hyper aware that Holden wasn't there, and he never would be. I kept a smile plastered on my face anyway. But I couldn't maintain it once Taylor arrived, sitting down on Jameson's lap and whispering something in his ear. For the next ten minutes, she alternated between making out with him and shooting me glances that looked half suspicious and half mocking. I didn't need any of it—this. This had been Holden's downfall or at least part of it. I didn't think anyone noticed that I'd grown very quiet. "Hey, I'm gonna go use the bathroom. I'll be back," I said to no one in particular, standing up and walking toward the stairs.