Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Inside, I uncork a new bottle of wine and pour glasses for both of us. “Full disclosure,” I say, extending one to her: “I’ve had three already.”
“It’s okay. I had two at home by myself earlier.”
I smile and we go into the living room together, taking seats next to each other on the couch. I tuck my legs underneath myself and try to figure out a place to begin. But this story is like a ball of yarn; if I cut any one string and start it rolling, the entire thing will unravel. So I decide to start at the worst place, get it over with.
I swallow. “Gabriel Wright isn’t just a patient. He’s the husband of the woman Connor mowed down, the woman and child he killed.”
Sarah’s eyes bulge. She raises her glass to her mouth and chugs half of it down.
I smile sadly. “We’re both going to feel like shit tomorrow. Because that’s only the beginning of this story.”
“Maybe I should get the bottles and we’ll just put straws in?” Sarah says.
“Don’t tempt me.”
Over the next half hour, I tell Sarah the entire story—from how I’d started following Gabriel, to him mysteriously showing up at the office and seeming not to know who I was, to sleeping with him during our session. Then I place the cherry on top—Rebecca’s story, how she fits into all this.
Sarah’s jaw hangs open when I finally stop to take a breath.
“Jesus Christ, Mer. That is so fucked-up. Are you afraid of him? Or her? Of them? Like do you fear for your safety?”
I nod. “I didn’t before today. Though I’ve felt like I was being followed for months. I suspected maybe it was Gabriel, but I couldn’t be certain. In hindsight now, maybe it wasn’t that I couldn’t be certain, but I didn’t want to be certain. Because if I was, I’d have to stop what I was doing. And I didn’t want to. I was emotionally tangled with Gabriel on so many levels.” I pause. “But I do feel scared for my safety at this point. I knew Rebecca had issues, but to start seeing me as a therapist because the guy she’s obsessing over is also a patient? At least, that’s what I have to assume she did. That feels almost Fatal Attraction level. I think I might need to get a restraining order or something.”
Sarah nods. “I definitely think you should get one. You can’t walk around in a constant state of fear.”
I drink the rest of the wine in my glass. “It will be complicated to go to the police, because of doctor-patient confidentiality.”
“Isn’t there an exception to that rule when someone is in danger?”
I nod. “Yes, but what if I’m wrong? What if Rebecca is just a scorned ex-girlfriend with an obsession over her boyfriend? It’s really only a feeling I have that she might be dangerous to me. She’s never made a threat or anything. And as far as I know, she’s never made one to Gabriel, either. And Gabriel has never threatened me. In fact, I had sex with him on more than one occasion and went to his apartment!” I rake my fingers through my hair, pulling at the roots. “Sarah, what the hell have I done to myself? What have I gotten myself into? This entire thing could have been avoided if I hadn’t followed Gabriel the first time I saw him. I started this. I brought this on myself.”
“No, you didn’t. Don’t you dare take that on. You might’ve followed him, but it all started innocently. You said so yourself—you followed him that first day to find out if he was happy, because you had so much guilt over what happened. But regardless, even if you did start the ball rolling, it’s gone too far now. You shouldn’t have to feel like you’re in danger.”
“I’m not even sure I have the whole story yet. Even with everything I know now, I feel like I have only half the pieces of a puzzle. I wish I had asked Gabriel why he came to my office, what he wants from me. And why he’s been following me.”
“Oh my God.” Sarah’s eyes go wide again. “I just thought of something.”
“What?”
“A few weeks ago, you and I left the office at the same time. I was waiting across the street at my normal bus stop, and I saw Rebecca doing it.”
“What do you mean? Doing what?”
“She was about half a block behind you, sort of weaving in and out of the crowd. I thought it was a strange way to walk, but hey—we live in New York City. Now it makes sense. She was keeping back from you and trying to stay hidden behind people. Mer, what if it’s not Gabriel Wright who has been stalking you the last few months, but Rebecca Jordan?”