“Sure.”
“Do you feel like going out, or would you be up for going somewhere that we can be alone?”
She’s quiet long enough that I begin to worry I’ve misjudged her.
“Let’s go to my place.”
MARCUS
I screwed up so bad. My parents and sister have been hysterical since I woke up. I feel awful that I upset them. I can’t believe Bianca told Dee they suspect I tried to kill myself. I didn’t. Not consciously, anyway. I took a few Xanax to calm my nerves, forgetting about the vodka I’d had earlier, and apparently, the combination nearly killed me.
That wasn’t intentional. I don’t want to die before I can make things right with Dee. She’s the only thing that matters to me.
I’ve been hiding my alcoholism from her for years now. That got easier when I moved home from New York. But my drinking is the reason I ended up married to someone else. It’s the reason I broke the heart of the only woman I’ve ever loved. I barely remember that night in Vegas or how I ended up married to one of the women who hung out with me and my boys.
I came to the next day with a blonde in my bed, a ring on my finger and the worst feeling I’ve ever had in my life when I began to fill in the blanks from the night before.
Dee.
She was my first thought then and is my first thought now. She’s been my first thought every day since I brought this disaster down on both of us. I need to talk to her, to tell her I don’t blame her for any of this. That’s my fear, that Bianca will have laid a guilt trip on Dee that she doesn’t deserve. She hasn’t done anything wrong. No, this is all my fault.
I should’ve listened to the family and friends who pleaded with me to get help before something awful happened. They were worried about me killing someone by drinking and driving, which I’ve never done. So that didn’t happen, but something else did—I broke the heart of my one true love, and now I’m desperate to fix that.
Bianca left my phone charging on the rolling table next to my hospital bed. I reach for it, find Dee’s name in my contacts and compose a text.
I didn’t try to kill myself. No matter what Bianca said, that’s not true, and if she tried to make you feel guilty in any way, I’m sorry. None of this is your fault. I fucked up, and there’s stuff I need to tell you, things you have a right to know. Could we please talk?
The text shows up as delivered but not read.
I’m staring at my phone, trying to will her to read the message, when yet another doctor comes into the room. What now? I’ve already been poked and prodded every which way. What’s left?
“Hi, Marcus,” the dark-haired woman says. “I’m Dr. Stern, the psychiatrist on call. You can call me Justine if you’d like.”
The word psychiatrist makes me groan. “I didn’t try to kill myself. That’s not what happened.”
She takes a seat next to my bed. “What did happen?”
“I mixed Xanax and booze by accident. I didn’t think about what the combination might do. It was a mistake, not a suicide attempt.”
“Your family was pretty upset, from what I’m told.”
“My sister pushed the panic button when she came to check on me and couldn’t get me to wake up. I feel bad I upset them.”
“Why would they assume you tried to take your own life?”
“Things have been messy lately. Really, really messy.”
“How so?”
“Do we need to go through all this?”
“If you want to be discharged. I need to be confident you’re not going to harm yourself if I sign off on your release. So how about you tell me what’s been so messy lately?”
“My wife left me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“No, it was a good thing.”
“Is that right?”
I nod. “We were never meant to be married. That was a mistake.”
“You married someone by mistake? How’d that happen?”
“I was drunk. We were in Vegas. She was there. One thing led to another, and I woke up married to the wrong woman.”
“Who was the right woman?”
“My girlfriend, Dee. She’s the one I love, the one I’ve always loved. We were together for years before we broke up, but we were putting it back together when this happened. She was in New York, and I was in Miami, but things between us were good. Until I fucked up, anyway, and since then, she doesn’t take my calls or respond to my texts.”
“How did she react when you told her you married someone else?”
“I’m not really sure.”
“She didn’t hear it from you?”
“No, and I regret that. She absolutely should’ve heard it from me, but what was I supposed to say to her? Oh, by the way, I got lit last night and woke up married to my friend’s sister Ana, which wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Okay, so you got married by accident. What happened then?”
“We came home to Miami. Ana moved in and wanted it to be a real marriage.”
“And in the meantime, you’re thinking about Dee, who’s not taking your calls or answering your texts. Is that right?”
“I thought of her every minute of every day that I was married to Ana.”
“Did you sleep with Ana?”
That question makes me uncomfortable. “I guess.”
“You guess? Did you or didn’t you?”
“We were married.”
“So while you were pining for Dee after having broken her heart by marrying someone else, you were having sex with your new wife. Do I have that right?”
I squirm under the intensity of her gaze. She wants to stab me on behalf of women everywhere, and I don’t blame her. “You have it right. I’m not proud of how I behaved, but you should know I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Marry someone who isn’t your long-term girlfriend?”
“Yes,” I say through gritted teeth. The doctor is starting to annoy me. “I’ve come to realize I have a problem with drinking.”
“What’re you doing about that?”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
“What’re you waiting for?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think a near-fatal incident that resulted from mixing Xanax and alcohol might be the impetus you need?”
“Maybe.”
“This is no joke, Marcus. If your sister hadn’t become concerned when she couldn’t reach you, you might’ve died.”
“Yes, I know.”
“And that wasn’t your intention? To end this suffering you’ve been going through by overdosing?”
“It wasn’t my intention. I don’t want to die. I just want to fix things with Dee.”
“I think you need to accept that isn’t going to happen.”
“How can you know that? She and I haven’t even talked about what happened. She won’t talk to me.”
Dr. Stern leans forward, placing her hand on my arm. “Marcus, you married someone else without breaking up with her first. She’s not going to talk to you. It’s over for her.”