Haunted(29)

“You mean just because both of your parents suffered from depression makes you susceptible to this?”

“I’m not sure. I know depression can be genetic. Joe was bipolar. Is it so far of a throw that I could be a schizophrenic?”

“I don’t know, honey.”


“I have to go see a doctor or a psychiatrist. It would be irresponsible to have this and not tell people. I’ve been trying to make myself believe it was post-traumatic stress but f*ck! Phoebe, the mask felt real. I touched it. I saw it. The banging on my door, I heard it. It was real or at least I think it was real. Roman isn’t going to want me. Eric sure as hell won’t let me be alone with Joey, for good reason. I’m going to lose it all and I can’t do a single f*cking thing about it!” I screamed the last part out in frustration.

“I think this is Post-traumatic stress, but you go home and tell your husband. He loves you so much. He will understand.”

“Maybe. I just feel so numb.”

“Go home. Talk to him.”

I nodded and then we walked to our cars. Phoebe hugged me and I drove home.



Chapter 21 – Roman



I was pacing the den when Beth walked through the door. She looked lost. I grabbed her up in my arms and held her against me. She hugged me back and I breathed in. She was safe.

“Beth?”

She held up a hand as though she couldn’t talk. I waited, wondering did I actually hurt her last night when we made love? She’d told me she was fine.

“Roman, we have to talk.”

“Okay.” I had a bad feeling about this.

“But before we talk. Can you and I go cuddle on the bed and just hold each other for a while?”

“Okay.” Was she going to leave me? What the f*ck was going on? She took my hand and led me to the bedroom. She looked in the Amazon box and her face scrunched up in hatred and she flung the box. The DVDs scattered all over the floor and I was lost for words. Did she hate the present? Did she think it wasn’t enough? Beth was not materialistic but maybe... She pulled down the covers and took my hand, leading me to the bed.

We climbed in and spooned. Then I felt her body shake with silent sobs. I had no f*cking idea what was wrong with her, and I was going to ask just as she turned to me.

“Make love to me?”

“What?”

“Please, just one more time?”

I was trying to process what she said and then she kissed me. She kissed me and pulled down my shorts and then she took off her own. I was still confused, but she still wanted me, and I had to believe that whatever was wrong she still had to love me or she wouldn’t be doing this. She climbed on top of me and inserted me into her.

It felt like home. She was my home and tears fell down my face. Was she going to leave me? What did I do? I would beg her to stay. We were married. She couldn’t just give up so soon. I looked up at her riding me and she was crying too. She leaned down.

“I love you so much,” she whispered into my lips.

I took her face in my hands and held her to me. I kept kissing her, and she didn’t pull away. I was getting close to release, speeding up our rhythm, all the while her fingers were laced into my hair. I felt her come around me, which triggered my own release. She collapsed on me, and I rolled her to the side and pulled her toward me. I held her while she cried until she fell asleep. I felt restless. What was she going to tell me? I wouldn’t let her go. We could work anything out. Please God, don’t let her leave me again.

***

After lying there for an hour, I got up and went into the den. I was trying not to go crazy. I needed a shower, but I didn’t want her to wake up. I went into Joey’s bathroom and turned on the water. I took a hot shower to loosen my muscles, which were bunched up with stress. I decided I would wake her after I got dressed. I’d tell her we’d just begun and I wasn’t going to let her pull away from me again! I felt mad. Why didn’t she fight for us—like I did?

Fuck!

After the shower, the steam was thick in the bathroom. I went to the mirror to see if my skin was red, and I saw words written on the mirror.

Row 8

Plot 30

You’re Next.

“What the f*ck?” What did that mean? I tied the towel around my waist and looked again. Finally, I cracked open the door and yelled Beth’s name. I didn’t want the steam to escape and allow the writing to disappear. This was weird and I didn’t like weird. Maybe Joey had written it, but it didn’t look like a kid’s handwriting. Besides, it was time for her to wake up. We needed to talk.

“Beth!” I called out again, louder this time.

“Coming.” I heard her making her way toward the bathroom. I opened the door and pulled her into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

“What’s this?” I asked pointing to the mirror.

Her body tensed, and she backed up, hitting the towel rack behind her.

“You…you see that?” she asked in a whisper.

“Of course, why do you think I called you in here?”

Her hand went up to her mouth.

“What does Row 8 Plot 30 mean?”

“It means someone wants me dead.”

“What?”

“You really see that?”

She smiled, causing me to feel confused and pissed off. First, she ran off today, making me worry. Then she made love to me like we were breaking up and now she was talking in code.