Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 76436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“These people died humanely,” Eli says. “I doubt any of them were murdered. If they were, they wouldn’t be good cadaver material.”
“Eli…” Tabitha warns, but I shake my head.
“No, it’s fine.” I stand from the couch and head toward the kitchen, my appetite completely vanished. “I just think we should show some respect. These were people who had lives, loves, dreams. You make your jokes, but remember that someday it’ll be us on those tables.”
I’m echoing exactly what Jason said in class today.
I don’t feel any better about the whole thing, though.
I leave them in the living room. Too much has happened tonight, and all I want is to be alone. With a sigh, I wash my hands and pour another glass of wine.
The sound of footsteps makes me turn. Tabitha is in the kitchen, leaning against the island.
“You okay?” she asks softly.
I shrug. “Just a lot to take in.”
She walks over to me. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Angie, but something happened between you and Ralph in here. I’m not sure what, but it’s got you on edge.”
She’s not wrong.
And Jason made all the points today in lab about the bodies being a gift. That we should be respectful. I don’t know why I’m repeating them tonight.
I knew when I entered med school that I’d be dissecting human bodies. And I knew it would be difficult for me, but I chose this path anyway.
I force another smile. “I’m good. But I think I’m ready to call it a night if you guys don’t mind.”
Tabitha nods. “I totally get it. I can drive Eli home.”
“Then why’d you tell him to get an Uber?”
She shrugs. “Because I was hoping you and I could talk privately, but I see you’re not up for that.” She gives me a quick hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow in lab.”
She and Eli grab their coats and leave without any more than a goodbye.
I put the leftover pizza in the refrigerator and let Tillie in. She runs inside, sniffing the spots on the couch where Eli and Tabitha were sitting.
She knows someone new was here.
Just like Tabitha knows something. Or at least has an inkling that something is going on with me.
I like Tabitha, but I hardly know her.
Why did she want to talk to me in private?
If she also witnessed my kiss with Jason, he and I are both in big trouble.
Chapter Ten
Jason
Three years earlier…
The room feels too bright, too warm. I want to loosen my collar, maybe just get up and leave. But I can’t leave my wife alone here. Not like this.
I glance at Lindsay. She’s sitting next to me on the couch, her shoulders hunched, gaze fixed on the floor. She looks so small, so unlike herself. The Lindsay I know is strong, fierce, but now I hardly recognize her.
Hell, I hardly recognize myself.
The therapist, Dr. Morgan, clears her throat softly. She’s trying to look sympathetic, but I can see through it. She’s just another stranger who thinks she can get inside our heads, rearrange the furniture, and magically fix everything. As if talking about her will make this easier.
“So, Lindsay,” Dr. Morgan begins, “last week, you mentioned that some days feel harder than others. Can you tell me about one of those days?”
Lindsay shifts, fidgets with her fingers. Then with the sleeves of her sweater. She doesn’t answer. I know she won’t, and I don’t blame her.
“She doesn’t need to go over this again,” I say, keeping my tone controlled even though what I really want to do is scream at Dr. Morgan and throw something. “You know, every session it’s the same questions. Same painful details. And we go home just as messed up as when we came in.”
Dr. Morgan meets my gaze. “I understand, Jason. Sometimes it can feel like progress isn’t happening, especially when emotions are overwhelming. But sharing these feelings can help ease the burden. Sometimes only a little, but it helps.”
“I don’t see it,” I mutter, but I stop myself from saying more. The last thing Lindsay needs is me snapping at the doctor.
Or am I wrong? Because honestly I don’t know what the fuck Lindsay needs anymore. I don’t know what I need either. We’ve both been stripped of everything. Needs? Hell, where do I start?
Lindsay finally speaks, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I just… I can’t stop thinking… It’s my fault, Jason. I should’ve been there.” She doesn’t look at me. Just says it to the carpet.
My heart clenches. We’ve been over this. Over and over again. “Lindsay, it’s not your fault.”
It’s not.
It’s mine.
I’m the one who lost control of the car.
I’m the one who didn’t make sure Julia’s car seat was latched correctly.
Me.
It was fucking me.
Dr. Morgan nods and leans forward slightly. “Lindsay, it’s natural to feel guilt in situations like this, even though we both know you didn’t do anything wrong. Losing someone makes us desperate to find answers. And guilt feels like an answer, but it’s not.”