Thirty Nights (American Beauty #1)(110)

Then, there are hours when your heart seems not to beat at all. Hours when the only reason you know you’re still alive is a bodiless pain that negates the option of afterlife. This is one of those hours.

Such hours don’t tell you how long they last. So here, on Cora’s couch, I can’t say whether it’s been minutes or days. Her soft hands change ice pack after ice pack on my arm. Her voice becomes words, words become sentences, and sentences become hope. He’ll be fine, dear. It’s not your fault.

I listen to her voice, twisting the hem of my new claret dress—Aiden ripped the left side to shreds—and reading Byron’s next lines:

“A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent.”

At last, the door opens. It’s Benson. I jolt from the couch.

“How is he?” I’m hoarse.

Benson sits next to me. He is not bruised and his stoic face that usually confounds me, now gives me comfort.

“Stable. I had to call his psychiatrist and he gave him a sedative. He’ll be out for a while. How are you?”

“I’m fine. Is he hurt?”

“No, I mostly blocked him but when I first fought him off you, I retriggered his capture flashback. In his mind, he was fighting the insurgents. But he’s not hurt.”

“Oh, thank God. Thank God.” The room sways so I keep talking. “What about you, Benson? Are you okay?”

He smiles. “It takes a lot more than that to bring me down. Don’t you worry about me.”

“Benson, thank you so much. If you hadn’t come…” I can’t finish my sentence. How would it have ended? All because of my stupid mistake.

“I’m glad I did.” He takes a deep breath. “Elisa, the doc is still here. He wants to talk to you, if you feel up to it. You went through a lot today.” Benson’s voice is gentle. But instead of calming me, it galvanizes me to action. I can help Aiden. I can do something other than sit on this couch, helpless.

“Of course! Yes. Please. Thank you, Cora.” I start running out of Cora’s door before I finish my sentence, Benson behind me. Cora throws a long cardigan over my shoulders.

As we pass by the firmly shut library doors, my knees shake.

“Where is Aiden, Benson?”

“In your bedroom.”

I don’t know where it comes from but before I know it, I stop him. His face is something like ordered confusion, if such a thing exists.

“Thank you.” Gratitude melts my frozen voice into a viscous whisper.

“For what?”

“For calling it our bedroom.”

Benson’s eyes soften until they reveal a vulnerability that must allow him to connect with his tormented boss more than their common military background can.

“If I may be allowed a personal observation, Elisa. I’ve never seen him happier than when he is with you. I think he loves you very much.” Benson looks uncomfortable. But in my empty chest, I hear my first heartbeat since the library.

I nod awkwardly, unable to find the words to respond.

Doctor Corbin is in the living room armchair, scrawling furiously on a yellow notepad. When he sees me, he stands up with a smile. He has a white, trimmed beard, no hair, hazel eyes and a tall, lean frame.

“You must be Miss Snow. I’m Victor Corbin. It’s a great pleasure to meet you.” He extends his hand.

“It’s great to meet you as well, Doctor. I wish it were under better circumstances. And please, call me Elisa. May I get you something to drink?”

Cora appears before Corbin can answer, bringing us drinks and—bless her—Baci. I sink on the couch, attacking the ice water with a thirst that doesn’t come from my body.

“Elisa, if I may, I’d like to examine you first to make sure you’re not hurt. Then we can discuss what happened.”

I want to go straight to figuring out a way to help Aiden but Corbin won’t hear it so I let him examine me. Nothing is broken but by tomorrow, I’ll have serious bruises.

At last, Corbin picks up his fountain pen and notepad. “We can take a break anytime if this gets too hard. But if you can, I’d like to hear what happened. From Benson, I gathered you had a stressful day?”

I nod, taking a deep breath, and tell him everything except Javier’s name. Corbin scribbles for a long time. I eat a Baci, unable to read the note.

“Elisa, this must have been terrifying. But you handled it with selflessness and love, and that’s all you could do. This was an accident and you shouldn’t blame yourself. Doctor’s orders.”

Corbin’s words sound like good grades but I can’t accept them. He repeats that it was not my fault but he didn’t see the terror in Aiden’s eyes when his memory catapulted him back to his torture. And I triggered it.

“Doctor, I don’t want to waste a single minute on me. Please tell me what I can do to help.”

“Very well.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “This is part of the reason why I wanted to meet you. I’m afraid I need you if we are to help him.”

“Anything. I’ll do anything for him. What do you need?”

“I’m skirting the line of the psychotherapist privilege for his safety,” he sighs. “I need your help to get him to accept treatment for his PTSD—and not just accept it, but continue it. Last time he saw me was after he attacked his mother. But after a few sessions, the pain, his vivid memories…were too much. I cannot imagine what this second episode will do to him. But we can’t allow him to drop treatment again.”