Unravel(63)

“Because you’ve made so much progress.” I smiled encouragingly. “Come on, Lana. You have your own apartment. Your very own that allows you to come and go as you please! You’re creating a life built around your own choices. Last year, would you have been able to do that?”

“No,” she whispered.

“You think you have to move back because everything feels so hopeless right now, and you don’t think you can be on your own, but you can.”

I stood up and held out my hand. “What do you say? Are you ready to go back home?”

“Yeah.” She took my hand. “I’ll do it.”

“What will happen to Max?” she asked me as we got inside the car.

I stared at the steering wheel. “He’ll get out on bail. The charges will be dropped and everything will be okay again. I promise.”

Lana looked at me doubtfully. And could I blame her? I didn’t believe myself.



30—BREAKING

“We can stop there for today.”

I look at Dr. Rutledge. My pulse hammers against my skin. My voice is starting to shake as I further explain my story.

Instead of asking me questions, Dr. Rutledge doesn’t say a thing. She sits back in her chair, her pen tapping against her notebook.

She sits up straight and laces her fingers together. “You know what I think?”

“What?” I ask wearily.

“I think you should take a weekend pass.”

“A weekend pass,” I repeat.

“I know these sessions have been wearing you down, but you’re making significant improvement. I think a weekend pass would be beneficial for you.”

When Lachlan first mentioned the idea of a weekend pass, I didn’t store too much faith in the idea. And when I broke down in group therapy, I thought my chances of ever having my freedom had disintegrated into thin air. But, here I am, given a chance to have my freedom. Even if it does have an expiration date.

I stare at her skeptically. It feels like there’s a catch that comes along with this opportunity.

“Would you like that?”

I nod. “Y-yes!” I stutter.

“If you don’t think you’re ready for it, you don’t have to take it.”

“I am,” I say quickly. “I am. I’m just skeptical.”

“There’s nothing to be skeptical about. Everyone needs a break.” She shrugs. “This is your break.”

I exhale loudly. “I’ll do it.”

“Great!” she says triumphantly as she stands up. “Mary will help you pack your bag tomorrow and you can be on your way.”

One small, but very important factor, finally hit me. “Who’s picking me up?” I ask.

“Lachlan.”

My fears slam into me swiftly. I can picture Dr. Rutledge talking to Lachlan, telling him that I truly am insane and that I will never get out of this place. Even though Dr. Rutledge has proven herself to me, it doesn’t matter when old insecurities never die.

I think she sees the fear in my eyes. She lays a hand on my shoulder and looks at me with concern.

“I’ve spoken to him once,” she says gently. “He spoke to me last week about a weekend pass, and that’s it. You have nothing to worry about.”

I swallow. “Thanks,” I whisper.

“Now,” she grins, “get some rest. Tomorrow is a big day.”



31—MATCHES

The next evening, I’m walking down the hall with my overnight bag in hand. Mary is right next to me; Lachlan is in front of me. His back is facing me and he’s talking to Dr. Rutledge.

I revert back to teenage Naomi. The one that turns red around him. Whose lips split into a ridiculously bright smile while her heart flips wildly in her chest.

Dr. Rutledge looks over Lachlan’s shoulder at me. Her brows lift and she smiles. “Good morning, Naomi.”

Lachlan turns and looks at me. He gives me a one-sided grin. I think my heart just dropped down to my stomach.

He’s dressed in a simple pair of jeans, dark blue shirt and a brown jacket. He looks so relaxed and at ease. He’s never looked sexier. “Look at you,” he says and reaches to take my bag.

“I know. Can you believe it?” I lift up my foot. “I have laces on my shoes.”

Mary actually laughs. Holy shit. Who knew she had a drop of humor inside of her. But in all seriousness, putting on clothes—that weren’t sweats—and wearing shoes, makes me feel as if a piece of myself is clicking right back into place.

Lachlan’s grin stays in place as his eyes sweep me from head to toe. There’s a heavy sense of anticipation in my stomach because the minute we walked out the front doors he would be all mine. There would be no nurses checking up on us, or telling him that it was time to go.

I pull my eyes away from him and glance at Dr. Rutledge. “Am I good to go?”

She holds a clipboard between us. “You just have to sign off on a few papers.” She puts it on the counter next to me and hands me a pen.

I scan the contents on the page quickly. It’s basically a sign out form saying that I, as the patient, or the guardian of the patient, understand what a weekend pass entails.

I glance at Dr. Rutledge. “I don’t need my parents’ signature?”