I left her in bed to work out, hoping when I got back she’d be up and doing something, but she wasn’t. She was still in bed, but awake, staring at the ceiling. I stood in the doorway, watching her, unnoticed, for a long time. My heart was breaking for her, for us. She’d completely stopped living.
“I think you need to start seeing Dr. Malmstein again,” I said.
Becca glanced at me, furrowed her brow, and then shook her head dismissively.
“You made me go when Kyle died. Remember that? Do you remember what you said? Do you remember what Nell went through because she wouldn’t let anyone help her?”
“Leave me alone, Jason.” She said it clearly, bitterness lending her fluency.
“No, Beck. I can’t do that. You know I can’t, and you know I won’t.”
“Going to drag me in?” she asked.
“If I have to.” I sat on the bed in front of her, and let her roll away from me. “I love you too much to let you do this, Rebecca.”
She glared at me, then; she hated being called Rebecca. “Just s-s-stop.”
“No. I’m sorry.” I tossed the covers away from her, scooped her up in my arms, and carried her into the bathroom.
She didn’t fight as I set her on the toilet lid, but she watched me warily. I reached into the shower and turned it on, let the water run hot, and then adjusted it.
“W-w-w-what are you…” She trailed off as I closed the shower curtain and then shied away from me as I tugged up the T-shirt she’d slept in. “No! J-Jason, s-s-sss-stop!”
I lifted an eyebrow as she jerked away from me, crossing her arms over her chest. “Becca, either get in the shower, or we’re going to do this the hard way.”
She lifted her chin and pressed her lips together. “Leave me alone.”
I sighed. “I love you, Rebecca Noura de Rosa. I will not let you stop living.”
She wavered then, her chin quivering, her eyes shimmering, but she tightened her arms over herself and shrank into the corner of the bathroom. I grabbed her by the hips and pulled her against me, wrapping my arm around her waist and pressing my lips to her cheek, whispering.
“Last chance, babe. You’re going in, like it or not.”
She rested her forehead against me. “P-please, Jason. Just give me some time.”
“If I saw you making an effort, I would. But you’ve just shut down. I don’t know what else to do.”
“So you’re going to f-f-force me to t-t-take a sh-sh-shower?”
“I’m taking you to see Dr. Malmstein. She has an opening in one hour. I checked.”
“And ih-ih-ih-if I refuse to go?”
“I’ll carry you. I’ll sit with you in that office for an hour at a time for as long as it takes. You know Dr. Malmstein helped both of us. You’re the one who said we needed to talk about it. Now you need it. You need to tell someone who knows what to say. You have to deal with it. Please, baby? For me, if not for yourself?”
“Would you break up with me if I didn’t go?” She whispered the words into my tank top.
“Nothing you could ever do would make me break up with you. Except cheat on me, maybe, but you wouldn’t do that.”
“Never. Never.” She finally turned her face up to mine. “I love y-y-you. More th-th-than anyth-th-thing.”
“Then get help. Please, Becca.”
“I’m scared.”
I frowned in confusion. “About what?”
“Of being told it’s wrong to hate him. To be so f**king angry at him.” She spoke through clenched teeth, scripting her words with care. “I’m afraid that I’ll…end up like Nell. Hurting myself just to feel anything else. I want that, sometimes. I get why she did it now, Jason. I do.”
My heart constricted, and my stomach twisted. “Have you? Cut yourself?”
She shook her head, meeting my eyes so I’d see she was telling the truth. “No, I s-s-s-swear. But I-I’ve thought about it.”
“All the more reason to go see Dr. Malmstein.”
The bathroom was wreathed in steam by that point, and it skirled between us, fogged the mirror, and dampening our clothing. Becca hesitated, then pushed away from me and peeled her shirt off, then her underwear, and stepped into the shower. I sighed in relief as she started washing her hair.
Maybe she would be okay. Maybe.
* * *
Jason
July
She made slow progress. She saw Dr. Malmstein once a week, and I was pretty sure she did most of her talking there, because she still rarely spoke to me, or to anyone else. When she did, she was fluent, but that was little comfort. She was writing again, which was a relief. At least she was expressing herself. We’d started our senior year, and she was pushing herself at her usual pace, but it seemed automatic, out of habit.
We hadn’t had sex since the day of Ben’s funeral. I hadn’t wanted to push her, pressure her, rush her. I was going crazy from need, but I knew she was hurting and I was trying to be understanding. I didn’t say anything, didn’t try to instigate it. She was still very much in her own headspace most of the time, and when I did engage her, she responded only as necessary.
I woke up one morning well before dawn. Gray light filtered in through the open blinds facing the street. Becca slept beside me, hair spread in dark waves on the white pillow, her features at peace for once. She lay on her back, face turned to me, breathing slowly and evenly, chest rising and falling. I rolled to the side, facing her, and rested my hand on her belly briefly, then traced her jawline. She stirred but didn’t wake. I sidled closer to her so my legs brushed hers under the blankets, and let my hand roam her arm beneath the sleeve of her T-shirt, then to her thigh. I brushed the shirt up a little, needing to just feel her skin, feel her warmth. I caressed her hip, then moved up her side, across her ribs.
I heard her breathing shift, and turned my eyes to hers.
“Don’t stop,” she murmured.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” My hand was frozen on her hipbone.
“It’s okay. Keep…keep touching me. L-l-like you were. Please.” She rolled so she was angled toward me.
“I’m not trying to…start anything you’re not ready for.”
She placed her hand over mine, and I saw tears in her eyes. “I thought…I thought you didn’t w-w-w-want m-me…anymore. Because I’m too fuh-fuh-fucked up. In my heh-heh-head.”
I felt salty heat burn my eyes. A lifetime of conditioning kept the tears from falling. “Baby. No…no. I haven’t….I thought you didn’t want…” I took a deep breath and focused. “You’ve been hurting. I didn’t think you wanted to.”