Chapter Thirty

I woke up the next morning with a sore neck and Charles snoring lightly in my ear. I checked the time on my phone. 9:26. We had about seven hours before our appointment with Dr. Lee. I hoisted myself groggily to my feet and made my way to the shower.

I was in my room getting dressed when I heard footsteps pounding down the hallway. My door burst open - I hadn't bothered to lock it - and Charles stood there panting while I hastily pulled on a pair of jeans. "Charles, what are you doing?" I demanded.

"You weren't out there," he managed through gasps. "I'm sorry. I- I'm sorry; I didn't know you were gone."

Equal parts guilt and pity washed through me. I shouldn't have pushed my luck assuming he'd stay asleep. "No," I confessed, "I'm sorry." I motioned for him to have a seat on my bed. He sat down and put his face in his hands, still breathing heavily.

"I don't know what to do," he murmured into his palms.

Thinking he might start crying again, I sat down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "We'll figure it out," I assured him. "We will."



It took some convincing, but I managed to get Charles to eat some breakfast, and we avoided the rest of the day at the park. I purposefully steered us towards the ducks Charles had been watching the last time we were here, but he didn't show any interest. His eyes fell straight through the lake.

"Charles," I prompted, "you're going to be fine."

"Maybe," he offered softly.

I didn't press the issue; we stayed there until it was time for his appointment.



Dr. Lee greeted us again in his ivory office and asked how we'd been. Charles wouldn't even look at him. "Fine," I lied.

Dr. Lee looked skeptical. "Charles," he asked, "would you mind retiring to the waiting room for a few minutes? I'd like to try a little exercise."

Charles' eyes shot to mine, panicked. I tried to mask my own apprehension and gave him what I hoped was a reassuring nod.

"Thank you, Charles," Dr. Lee declared as Charles shuffled nervously out of the room. I saw him look back at me just as Dr. Lee was shutting the door.

"Adam," Dr. Lee continued, "I want to stress to you how important it is for me to have your complete honesty in this situation."

I nodded, looking down at his desk.

"I don't want to cast him in a bad light, but I can't count on Charles to give me the full story; as it is, he's already fairly resistant in our sessions. I need you to be the one who shows him that I'm here to help. Doing so will help me, it will help Charles, everyone will benefit."

He watched me, waiting for a response, but just as I was about to answer, there was a loud thump and a frightened shout from the other side of the door, "Doctor!"

Alarmed, Dr. Lee and I looked at each other and dashed out of his office. We turned the corner into the waiting room to see Charles being restrained by a security guard and flailing away from a fist-sized hole in the wall. The security guard was shouting instructions which were lost beneath Charles' terrified shrieks.

I ran to Charles, putting myself between him and the wall, and tried to talk him down. Seeing me, his cries dropped off quickly, becoming light whimpers, aftershocks of fear.

With the security guard maintaining a solid hold on Charles, Dr. Lee approached. "Charles," he offered in a calming voice, "tell me what happened."

Charles broke down, deflating in the security guard's arms. Dr. Lee motioned for the guard to release him, and he let Charles drop gently to the floor. Charles lay curled on his side, crying softly.

Dr. Lee gave me a stern glance then turned to the receptionist. "Call an ambulance."

I began to object, but Dr. Lee cut me off. "He needs to be taken to a professional facility."

It would have done no good to argue. I sat down next to Charles and put a hand on his arm; I stayed with him until the paramedics took him away.


Driving home under a dismal sunset, I couldn't help thinking of how much had changed in the last six days. What Charles and I shared hadn't been the same as it had back in school, of course, but we had recaptured something special, something that reminded me of what had made us so close in the first place. For as much as Charles' appearance had disrupted my life, I was glad for his return; in certain moments, it was the happiest I'd felt in a long time.

I knew I could go visit him and that he would eventually be released and we could still see each other every day, but I knew also that things had changed again. I wasn't able to save him. I didn't think he would blame me for that, but the entire dynamic of our relationship had shifted in a way that couldn't be reversed. By the time I got home, I was weary from thinking about it.

I looked around my apartment: the couch where Charles had slept, the table where we'd eaten together. I could already feel his absence. He'd been here for not quite a week, but he'd already changed it all. The space was as empty as it had always been, but I felt more alone now, like this place wasn't supposed to be this lonely, this empty. I crossed to the couch but just stared at it, didn't bother sitting down. It wasn't the same now, not the way it should be.

There were other places to go, places that were supposed to be as empty as it felt here, but this wasn't one. I didn't sit down.