Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“She went far into the sea today, so far that she wouldn’t have made it back if I didn’t have a bodyguard watching out for her.”
“I see,” he says, his frown deepening. “That’s a matter you should discuss with her psychiatrist."
“It’s your opinion that interests me.”
“I’m not a qualified psychiatrist or—”
“I don’t care. You treated her. You must have an opinion. Is she capable of suicide?”
He blows out a sigh. “I can’t say yes or no. All I can say is that she suffered such severe emotional trauma her brain short-circuited. It’s rare, but it happens in very violent cases.”
“And?”
He fixes me with a look. “And there’s a history of suicide in the family.”
That false belief, I ignore. “Based on only the trauma, it’s possible then.”
His smile is patronizing. “Anything is possible. Whether it’s probable is a different question.”
“How high is the probability in your opinion?”
“That, I can’t say.” He steeples his fingers as he scrutinizes me. “If you think she’s a danger to herself, admitting her to a psychiatric hospital is an option.”
“I’m not going to lock her up in an asylum.” I dig my nails into the padded armrests. “All I’m asking for is a risk assessment.”
“Look, as I said, I’m not a psychiatrist, but what I can tell you is that Sabella is vulnerable on all levels right now—emotionally, physically, and mentally.”
“What will help? Medication?”
“Perhaps. I saw the news about her late father’s so-called second family. She’s just been through death and learning some shocking news about someone who was very close and dear to her. She can’t demand explanations from the deceased. She’ll be left with questions and doubts. What she needs now is a lot of patience and stability.”
“What kind of stability?”
“No drastic changes.”
“Such as?”
“Anything known to have a major impact on stress levels.”
I clench my jaw. “In other words, taking her back to Corsica after the funeral wouldn’t be conducive to her state of mind.”
“Definitely not. I advise against any major changes in the near future, and moving countries counts high on the list of major changes. First of all, she’ll have no friends or family, no social safety net in a new country. That’s not ideal for her mental state of mind. What she needs right now is her circle of support. She’d have to learn a new language and adapt to a new lifestyle. All of this takes enormous emotional investment—making new friends, learning to commute, to communicate, to get a new job, to earn a rightful place in society, to find a sense of belonging, to combat the outsider syndrome, to—”
“Fine,” I say with something close to a growl. “I get it.”
He raises his hands. “You asked. That’s my personal opinion as a medical professional and not as a psychologist.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I take it out. It’s Uncle Nico.
“Thank you,” I say, getting to my feet.
“I hope that helps with your decision.”
Not really. I know what a good man would do. To be separated from her again doesn’t sit right with me. If the last two years of waiting were hell, the past five months of sleeping alone after I finally had her in a hotel bed were an inferno. I want her close to me, day and night. I want to get these goddamn obstacles out of the way so that I can put that ring I promised her on her finger and tie her to me with a vow and my name.
Don’t you hate me, even a little?
She’s mine. Yet a part of me will always hate her for the blood that flows in her veins. Logically, I know she’s innocent, a pawn caught in a game. Rationally, I understand it’s not her fault that my mother and sister are dead. I hold her accountable for nothing, but I blame her for everything. She didn’t give the order. Edwards did. However, he did it for her. Everything that happened is for her. Because of her.
Maybe my motives aren’t as clear-cut as I pretend them to be. Maybe the part of me that hates her wants to punish her as much as possess her.
My phone vibrates again.
I greet the doctor and take my leave.
Outside, I return Uncle Nico’s call.
“Angelo,” he says in a strained voice. “I have bad news. Your father had a heart attack.”
Fuck. I make my way to the car with big strides. “How serious is it?”
“It doesn’t look good. You know his health issues, how he fell back onto his bad habits after your mother—”
“Tell him to hold on.” I get into the car. “I’m on my way.”
Dumping the phone on the passenger seat, I start the engine. My heart pounds in my chest as I race to the hotel.
As it turns out, circumstances once again took the question of what to do with Sabella out of my hands.