Heal Me (Magnolia Series Book 2) Read online

  They probably would’ve had Ellie committed if they had seen her. She never moved from her spot on the sofa, never stopped staring out the window with unseeing eyes.

  The world outside that window is at complete odds with the two of us on the inside. Bright and warm, sunlight glistens off the water. Birds fill the air with their happy chirping. It’s all so…alive. We seem to be only one step ahead of death, both silent and slow in our movements. Everything about us leaden.

  Every minute of silence that passes is a weight bearing down on my heart, like I’m losing years off my life with each tick of the clock. I don’t know how much more I can handle.

  My phone rings, sending a shock though my nerves. It’s Vicky. I push myself off the sofa and make my way to the back porch, taking a deep breath before tapping the green dot on the screen. “Hello.”

  “How is she?”

  My eyes cut back to my silent companion. “The same.”

  She lets out a weary sigh. “I’m sorry, Nik.”

  I swallow down the growing lump in my throat. “Yeah, me too.”

  “She will come out of this. Be patient with her.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Of course you are.”

  “How, uh, how is she gonna be when she does finally come back?”

  I hear her take a deep breath then let it out. “Any number of ways, but she’ll more than likely be very emotional. Losing time makes her frustrated. Knowing you’ve been there with her the whole time, I imagine that will weigh on her greatly.”

  “What can I do for her? What should I do?”

  “Let her feel whatever it is she’s feeling. Let her be angry, let her cry, let her scream. Listen to her, watch her body language. Just follow her lead, she’ll let you know what she needs. Don’t be surprised if she tries to push you away. Or she may do the opposite, she could become quite…aggressive is not the word, but insistent when it comes to sex. Let her as long as she isn’t abusing you or herself. She’ll need an outlet.”

  I let out a heavy sigh. It seems to be all I do these days.

  “You’re doing well, Nik. I know this is difficult.”

  “Please tell me she won’t always have to feel so much pain,” I beg her, needing some hope to cling to.

  “I had almost given up until you came along, but I truly believe she’s healing now.”

  “I really thought so too.”

  “Healing can take years, many years. There will come a day when these episodes just stop and she probably won’t ever have another one. The anxiety and depression, she’ll always be prone to those.”

  “I’m sure we can handle those, but the breakdowns and the…shit, I don’t even know what to call it.”

  “We call it depersonalization, or some call it derealization. Her mind is just taking some time off to cope. How many times has she broken down with you? Let go of some of the pain, I mean.”

  I think back, not really wanting to remember. “Maybe three times.”

  “What brought those on? Were you talking about her past? Or…”

  “Um, two of the times we were, but the second time was after, she ah…” I can’t find the words to say what happened with any respect.

  “She fell apart after sex, didn’t she?”

  “Yeah,” I sigh, again.

  “I know that was probably unsettling for you—”

  A wry huff escapes me. “That’s an understatement.”

  “Trust me, it was good for her. She seemed better afterwards, right?” she asks, sounding confident.

  “Yeah, until I opened my damn mouth and asked about Lucas.”

  “Nik, I know you may not believe this, but all of this means she’s making progress. Each time she releases any of that pent up pain, guilt, or anger, she’s getting better.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for it.” For the millionth time I wonder if I’m strong enough to help her through this.

  “Please do, because I need you to do something I should’ve done for her, but couldn’t.”

  “I’ll do anything if it will help her,” I offer in a heartbeat.

  “You’re not going to like it. It will probably be the hardest thing you’ve ever done,” she responds.

  Fuck, that doesn’t sound ominous or anything.

  I’m afraid to ask, but I do anyway. “What?”

  “When she comes out of this, give her a day or two, then you have to push her.”

  “Push her?” Fuck that. “No way, that’s why we’re in this mess as it is.”

  “No, it’s because I didn’t push her that you’re in this mess. I got too close. She became like a little sister to me. I put my love for her first, thinking I was protecting her. All I did was fail her.”

  For once I truly believe she cares for Ellie. It’s in the tone of her voice, all the regret it held. It sounded just as heavy as mine feels. Which is why I’m about to disappoint her.

  “Vicky, nobody loves her more than I do. I won’t be any different. I can’t hurt her. I won’t.”

  “The love you have for her is exactly why you can.”

  “Please explain how that makes any sense,” I ask, my mind already made up that she won’t be able to.

  “You said it yourself. You love her more than anyone, and Nik, she loves you just as much,” she says, with more faith behind her words than I expected. “You’ll be able to push her further than anybody else. She’ll let you, because she loves you and she knows you love her. I’ve seen it with other patients. It either takes someone completely detached from them or someone they love and trust explicitly.”

  I take a minute to consider her words. Is she right? If she is, can I even do what she’s asking? Half of me says yes, the other half is terrified.

  “What exactly is it you’re asking me to do?”

  “You have to push her to the breaking point.”

  My vision nearly goes red. “Excuse my French, but she came here to fucking kill herself, which you and her so called friends were gonna let her do, I might add, again. I think she already hit her breaking point,” I snarl into the phone as it creaks in protest of my grip.

  “I understand your anger, Nik—”

  “I don’t give a shit if you understand it or not.”

  Vicky goes quiet, which is very smart of her at this point. I rub my eyebrows, trying to wipe away the throbbing behind them, I hadn’t noticed till now. Another few minutes of this and it’ll be a raging migraine. Just peachy.

  “Hopefully you and I can resolve our differences later, but I think right now we need to concentrate on Ellie. Do you agree?” she asks, her tone very subdued.

  I take another deep breath, because– why the hell not? –and decide to see where she’s going with this. “All right, say I agree to push her to her breaking point. What is that going to accomplish other than tearing apart the trust she has in me?”

  “It won’t,” she says a bit too enthusiastically. “When she comes out the other side she’ll know you did it with love, that you did it to help her.”

  “And how am I supposed to push her?” I sound like a complete asshole, but I could care less.

  “You have to force her to admit their deaths were not her fault.”

  Of course, I do.

  “I’ve told her that, many times. It never gets through to her. What makes you think she’ll magically accept it now?”

  “Telling her and making her admit it are two different things. She has to forgive herself or she’s never going to get better,” she says with no small amount of conviction.

  Me, I’m far from convinced.

  “In my experience, you can’t force people to do that, it’s something they have to do on their own.”

  She tries again. “She will do it on her own, you’re just going to help her get to that point.”

  I’m so tired. God, I am so fucking tired.

  “Tell me exactly what it is you want me to do and I’ll think about it.”

  YOUR LOVE

  ~ />
  Ellie

  My mind clears as the dim light of dawn seeps through the window blinds, coating the bedroom in a colorless gray. I’m pressed against his side while he plays with my hair and hums to me. We’re dressed in dry clothes. My hair is dry too.

  I have no idea what day it is.

  I remember the numbness washing over me when his name slipped into my ears after such a long time. No one’s said it in years, not even me. Not that I knew of anyway. The tears and sobs came next, when I became aware enough to hear Nik beating on the door, begging me to open it. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. My body just wouldn’t move. Not for me, not for him, not for anything.

  My baby’s still buried in the cold, hard ground. He’ll never move again. Why should I deserve any different?

  Nik got to me somehow though, unless I imagined him.

  I remember us sitting against the shower wall and the freezing rivers running over my skin turning to warmth. His arms were around me, but we didn’t talk. There was nothing to say. The words wouldn’t have come even if I had known them. So, we sat, a damaged soul clinging to an anchor.

  That could’ve been last night, or days ago.

  I need to stop this. I should be taking care of him, not the other way around.

  I can’t believe he’s even bothering with me. If he didn’t believe I was a fruitcake before, he has to now. I’m afraid to move, to let him know I’m awake, and of what comes next. But I have to.

  Giving a soft kiss to his chest, I roll over.

  The bed creaks as he jumps slightly, then he’s spooning me, his face in my neck. “El?”

  I reach back and rub his thigh. “I’m okay now.”

  His body shudders against mine, his breath jagged and hot as it blows across my shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I never meant to…”

  “Shhhh, I know you didn’t. You couldn’t have. It’s my fault. I’m the one who’s sorry,” I whisper.

  “Don’t do that. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

  “No. I should’ve told you at the hospital when I told you the rest. I can’t really explain why I didn’t. Some secrets are so bad you even keep them hidden from yourself.”

  He tries to pull me closer, making me feel more smothered than the memories. I force myself to get off the bed as gently as possible, instead of shoving him away and running like I want to.

  “Where are you going?” The fear in his voice grips my heart painfully, but it’s not enough to keep me by his side.

  “It’s time for breakfast. You need to eat,” I say, heading for the door.

  “Ellie, I don’t need breakfast,” he fusses.

  “When’s the last time you ate?”

  His eyes dart to the floor, his brow furrowing. “We had sandwiches yesterday around six o’clock.”

  Last I remember we had the barbecue I picked up in town. I know I’m not going to like the answer, but... “What day is it?”

  The pain in his expression says it all. “Friday morning,” he whispers.

  Two days. I left him alone for two days.

  “You need to eat and you need your meds. You know they make you sick if you don’t eat first,” I tell him from the hallway. “Stay in bed. I’ll bring it to you.”

  He won’t listen to me, but I get busy pulling food from the fridge hoping he will. I’m scrambling the eggs when he limps up behind me, his crutch thumping across the wood floor.

  Yo, ho, ho and a bottle of rum.

  Pirate ditties? God, I’m finally going nuts. Took a lot longer than I thought it would.

  “Ellie, please. Stop this and talk to me.”

  It could have been his tone of voice, my nerves, or maybe both, but I turn on him, the whisk clattering to the floor across the room, egg slung from here to there. “Why, Nik!? He’s dead! Just like all the rest! And I’m a crazy freak. What else is there to say? What is it you want to hear?” I scream.

  I want him to scream back. I need him too. But he doesn’t. Instead his pretty blue eyes fill with tears, his jaw clenching as he swallows, all of it gutting me.

  He’s looked at me in so many different ways since we met, but never like this – with pity and fear. I slam my eyes shut and slap my hand over my mouth, hoping it will contain the sudden boiling nausea in my stomach. I feel him move towards me. I shake my head, backing away, but he keeps coming, pinning me in the corner of the counter.

  Nowhere left to go unless I want to hurt him, I sink into his chest as hot, angry tears flood my eyes. I try to concentrate on the physical feelings – his arm holding me, his fingers in my hair, his warm breath blowing across my ear – so maybe they can keep the emotions from pulling me under again.

  “I don’t need to hear anything…but, El, I think you need to say it. Whatever it is,” he whispers, breaking right through the walls I was building as if they were made of tissue.

  I push him away. “Sit down.”

  “Ellie.”

  “Sit. Down,” I bite out, making his eyes widen. “Please, Nik. Just sit down before you fall. Please,” I beg him. “I need you to sit down.”

  I watch him fight his emotions for only a few seconds before I have to look away. I’m hanging by the thinnest thread and his pain is a knife intent on slicing it in half.

  The tiniest bit of tension leaves my shoulders when I hear him move across the room, then the scrape of a chair being pulled away from the table. I turn back to the stove, every part of me shaking.

  For the next several minutes the kitchen stays silent except for the sizzle of eggs and bacon cooking and the ding of the toaster. I fix his plate, then get everything on the table he might want – butter, jelly, a glass of milk.

  “You’re not gonna to eat?” he asks, as I sit down.

  I shake my head. “You eat, I’ll talk. Okay?”

  He nods and picks up his fork, but that’s it. It stays clasped in his hand, hanging in limbo, trembling slightly. I look out the window and focus on the Spanish moss blowing in the live oaks. It seems so soft and airy floating in the wind, so free. I’d like to float away with it.

  I can do this, I can do this. I can. But first…

  I turn back to him. He still hasn’t touched his food. “Please eat. It’s gonna get cold and yucky.”

  Giving me a guilty, half-hearted smile he jabs at his eggs.

  “Has it really been two days?”

  He nods, not looking up.

  “Please tell me you didn’t hurt yourself trying to help me?” I whisper.

  He shakes his head, swallowing down his food. “You wouldn’t let me help. We stayed in the shower till the water ran cold then you got up on your own, turned it off and helped me up without saying a word. Then you dried off, brushed your hair, wrapped it up, and came and helped me.” Taking a deep breath, his eyes dart around the room before settling on mine. “It’s been the same since. You’ve been here, but at the same time you weren’t here at all.”

  I tear up, I can’t help it, the exhaustion and sadness etched on his beautiful features twists my insides. I’m disgusted with myself for putting him through this. “You haven’t slept at all, have you?”

  He shrugs, playing with his bacon now. “Here and there, but it’s okay. As much sleeping as I’ve done lately, I’ve got a surplus built up,” he says, a soft smile on his sweet face.

  Unable to sit still another second, I get up and gather the pans I used to cook his breakfast and take them to the sink. I get the water going and stand there staring into the bubbles as they grow. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, probably not even loud enough for him to hear me. “I never wanted you to have to deal with this. You deserve better. Someone who isn’t so fucked up.”

  “Ellie. Look at me,” he demands, his voice quiet, yet filling the room. I turn around, my body following his command all on its own. Just like it did the other night. I couldn’t look anywhere else if I wanted to. There’s only fire staring back at me too. “I’m gonna say it again, even though I’ve already said it several times. I love
you. Cracks, scars, broken heart and all. Don’t try to push me away. I’m not going anywhere. You stole my heart the day I met you and I don’t want it back. It’s yours. And I don’t want to hear you saying you’re fucked up anymore either. You’re not broken, you’re healing. If this is part of the process, then so be it. Whatever it takes. We’ll get through it. Together.”

  “I’m…”

  “I swear to God, woman,” he sighs, dropping his fork onto the table and rubbing his face before looking at me again. “If you say you’re sorry I’m gonna find some way to drag you over my knee and tear your ass up.”

  I gape like a fish, my mouth open intending to give him a scathing retort, but I quickly shut it again, shocked into silence. I don’t think he’s playing.

  “I mean it, Ellie. I’m tired of hearing you say you’re a weeping willow when I know damn good and well you’re not. I can see that steel magnolia in your eyes right now. You want to push me so bad you can hardly stand it. And it sure as hell wasn’t any weeping willow that slapped that son of bitch who shot me. Or stood up to my best friend, my sister, and that dickhead doctor. You weren’t one any of the times you put me in my place either. It’s plain as day to everyone else how strong you are. It’s time you start seeing it too.”

  “Nik, I just lost two whole days! I–”

  “Promise me.”

  “What?”

  “Promise me no more of this ‘I’m fucked up’ shit. You’re allowed to grieve, to cry, to have a shitty day, or however long you need, but no more of that. You’re human. One that’s been through hell and back. Cut yourself a fucking break. Please,” he begs, tears threatening to spill over his long lashes.

  My ire evaporates as quickly as it came, seeing the pain in his eyes. I walk over to him and cup his cheek, rubbing my thumb over it. “What happened to my sweet knight in shining armor?”

  He takes my hand in his and kisses my palm, then tugs until I sit on his lap. I’m immediately wrapped up in his arms. “I’m right here. I’m just tired of watching the woman I love tear herself apart when she doesn’t have to,” he whispers, pressing his lips to my forehead.