Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“Hey, hey, hey.” Mel grips my chin and forces my gaze to meet hers. “None of it’s your fault. She took some pills, but it was accidental, or at least she says it was.”
“Jesus.” I drop my head, and it feels so heavy my neck might snap under the weight.
“She called you and me, but neither of us was available.”
I rub her back and force myself to look down the hall. “Let’s go get our girl.”
As soon as I enter the room, I search Tessa’s eyes. I’ve faced this in the mirror too many times not to recognize it—the wildness of mania or the weight of depression. Bipolar 2 often presents more as hypomania or depression than full mania, but I brace myself for anything. I focus on the fact that she’s safe and here and they’re probably already stabilizing her with meds. Her mother is asleep in the corner, legs tucked under her on the bench built into the wall that’s doubling as a bed.
“Shhhh!” Tessa presses her finger to her lips. “She just conked out. She’s been here for hours, and I can’t make her leave to get some sleep.”
Mel takes the chair on one side of Tessa’s bed and I take the other. She grips each of our hands in her own, looking first at Mel and then at me. When our eyes meet, her bottom lip trembles.
“I’m sorry, gem.” Her voice barely clears a whisper, and misery swims in her eyes. “I’ve been really sad, but I promise I didn’t mean to do it this time. I would’ve SOS’d you. I wouldn’t leave you here alone with the normies.”
“Um, hello.” Mel raises her hand. “Right here.”
“Sorry,” Tessa and I say in unison, both managing to laugh just a little through our tears.
I stroke my thumb over the jagged scar camouflaged by the SOS tattoo across Tessa’s wrist. “Can you tell us what happened?”
“I can try.” Tessa swallows and scratches the skin inside her elbow. “I had been so sleepy, so tired, but couldn’t go to sleep, so I dug out those old sleeping pills. I took two, but I still couldn’t sleep. I think I took another, or maybe it was two more. I don’t remember.”
Tears trickle over her cheeks as her gaze wanders to her mother sleeping in the corner. “I hate putting everybody through this again. My mom, she doesn’t deserve it. I’m such a screwup.”
“Hey, hey, hey.” I squeeze her hand and reach up to cup her face, wiping away the tears. “We’re not gonna let those lies win. Your mother loves you. We all do. You’re not putting us through anything. Family sticks together—good, bad, thick, thin. If it were me in that bed, where would you be?”
Tessa’s mouth wobbles and she squeezes her eyes closed, clutching my hand almost to the point of pain, but I couldn’t care less. “Right where you are now.”
“And I may not have the same diagnosis,” Mel says, leaning forward to rest her chin on the bed. “But you’d be there for me and I’ll always be there for you. The diagnosis, circumstances—doesn’t matter what. Who is what matters. We’re your who, Tess. Every time. Anytime.”
“Thanks, guys.” Tessa bites her bottom lip, not bothering to swipe the fresh cascade of tears. “I’ll be here for a few days. They want to observe and get me stabilized. I hadn’t been taking my meds, so they want to get those into my system.”
She angles a wry glance at Mel. “So you were right. Happy now?”
“I’m happy you’re doing what you need to do to get better,” Mel replies carefully. “And I’ll be here for you as much as possible. I’m sorry I checked out. I could see you slipping, and it was the worst time for me to get caught up in a new relationship. Things got so weird between us, but I should have stayed home. I shouldn’t have…”
Now the tears flood Mel’s eyes and overflow.
“You didn’t neglect me,” Tessa says, stretching her arm across the bed to grab Mel’s hand. “You have your own life. No one’s blaming you. I’m a grown-ass woman who can take care of myself.”
Tessa waves a hand over her bed and chokes out a dry laugh. “I mean, I know it don’t look it right now, but I’m responsible for myself and must create the best life I can.”
Hearing the affirmation I’ve repeated so often to myself sketches a smile on my lips, and when I look up, Tessa is smiling back. Those words have anchored us both more times than we can count.
“You tried,” Tessa continues, shifting her attention back to Mel. “We both know you clocked me skipping pills and not doing what I needed to for my mental health. I’m happy for you and Clint. There’s been times you put your life on hold to make sure I was good. I know that. You a real one.”