The Sick Wife - Lost Loretta (e reader pdf best .TXT) 📗

at me. I quickly step away and try to disappear into the crowd. I wasn’t really planning to do anything, was I? I was just thinking about it… a little. And kind of wishing I was brave enough to try. And wondering if it would make me feel better, if it would make the pain go away… but the fact that I was wondering so much that I made a train stop is a bad sign.

As soon as I get above ground and get a signal on my phone, I call Gabriel.

I don’t even think about it. I haven’t heard his voice in weeks, and I haven’t called him in weeks. I know I don’t technically have “permission” to call him right now, and I’ve been trying to be a good little girl and follow his rules. But I just really need this today. There’s no answer. He doesn’t pick up.

He texts me that he can’t talk because his wife is nearby.

I stand there for a few minutes, not even caring that there are tears streaming down my face in public. What is this? Is this even a relationship? How can I not do something as simple as call someone who supposedly wants to marry me?

I look down at my engagement ring in confusion, wondering if it means anything at all. Now I suddenly understand why Yvette flushed hers down the toilet. It’s a bit of a wakeup call.

Later that day, I walk down to the psychiatric area of the hospital, and to search for a doctor I trust. I see the light on in Dr. Tanaka’s room, so I enter his office without permission and stand by his desk, trying to figure out what to say.

“Camilla, what’s wrong?” asks the aging Japanese man.

“I need help,” I tell him softly. “I want to try my best to keep working—but I’m not doing very well. I don’t want everyone to know.”

“It’s perfectly normal, with everything that’s happening right now.” He gestures to the chair in front of him. “Do you want to sit down and tell me about it?”

I glance at the chair skeptically. “Is there some medication that can help me?”

“Maybe. But we’ll also need to talk. You’ve mentioned before that you had some family history of mental illness?” he asks.

I nod, tears filling my eyes, surprised that he remembers. “My mother,” I tell him. “That’s why I’m here. The moment I noticed something was wrong… I just know I need to fix it fast.”

“There is no quick and easy fix. It’s going to take work,” he responds. “But you came here and asked for help, and that’s the first step. We’ll work on this together, find you the right prescription and some counseling.”

“Thank you,” I say quietly. Trusting him and feeling safe, I sit down in the chair.

Chapter 15

The experience of not being able to call Gabriel in a bad moment has really changed something for me. I stop wearing his ring all the time. I leave it at home in the box, in a drawer.

Mike notices the disappearance of the ring on my finger, and starts peppering me with questions that I don’t have the energy to answer. I miss more shifts at work, because I just can’t manage to be around people and act normal.

I begin taking antidepressants, which make my stomach hurt badly. They also make my body feel completely numb. I feel totally unlike myself, and worse than before. I know that I should go back to Dr. Tanaka and ask for another prescription—he said that it might take a few tries to find something that works for me. But I just can’t get out of bed anymore.

I feel like I waited too long to try to fix my depression, and now I am just stuck like this. I don’t even have the strength to make a phone call to Dr. Tanaka and ask for more help. I miss some of our counseling sessions. He texts me offering to conduct a counseling session over the phone, but I don’t respond. I don’t really want to talk to anyone on the phone.

I mean—there’s one person on the planet I want to talk to, but that’s impossible. I try to text him less, lately… it just feels like I’m bothering him. I feel unwanted. All his excitement and passion for me seems gone.

I feel so isolated and unloved, and I stop dreaming about our future together. Stop dreaming about having all those cute little babies. It just feels impossible. I don’t have anything to look forward to, and I can’t seem to find joy in all the little things that used to make me happy.

It just feels like there is only emptiness ahead of me. Like there is no point in trying. Sometimes it feels like I’m dying inside. I try to explain to Gabe a little about my depression but it seems to make him withdraw even further away.

Sometimes he even goes twenty-four hours without speaking to me at all. He always tries to make some excuses or explanations about it later, and I always forgive him. He always reassures me that he hasn’t given up. But I feel sick.

I’m not sure how much longer I can last like this.

The uncertainty, waiting, and silence is just slowly killing me. It doesn’t feel like love. It feels like torture.

One day, to my surprise, Gabe calls me.

I am so happy and surprised to see his name show up on my phone. My heart soars.

I haven’t heard his voice in so long, I’m craving it more than food or water. I need this. I need this so badly.

“Gabe?” I say when I pick up, with excitement and hope in my tone.

There is silence on the other end of the line. “No.”

It takes me a second to understand what is happening. It’s a woman’s voice.

Oh my god. I take a deep shuddering breath.

“Evie?” I ask softly.

“You fucking lying bitch!” she screams at me through the phone.

My hand flies