I keep quiet, not wanting to disturb her train of thought or interrupt.
“My parents never loved me. They still don’t. I was never hugged or touched by a parental figure or friend until I met you. I was raised by nannies who cared more about a paycheck than my wellbeing. I was raised in a glasshouse, Sully.”
She rolls back over, facing me again, more tears falling from her eyes. She wipes them away, before continuing.
“Everyone jokes about me being the ice queen, but the truth? It’s cold being her. Something is wrong with me. I can’t let people in. I felt so unworthy of you and JR. My entire life I felt so unworthy of the love you two give me. I want to let love in, but I feel so incapable of doing that. I want to feel.”
I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close to me. I let her cry into my shoulder, she laughs a little.
“Is it insane that I’m kind of glad I’m bipolar? That there is a reason behind why I feel this way? Is that crazy?”
I shake my head, smiling lightly. “No, that’s not crazy. You’re going to conquer this, okay? You are more than just a disorder.”
She lifts her eyes to me, and I sigh.
“We are going to do this together, okay?” I say each word slow and steady staring into her dark brown eyes.
I don’t care how long it takes, or what I have to do, she’ll believe that for herself one day. Every day I’ll remind her that she is worthy of love. That she is capable of loving someone. Because she deserves it.
“Okay, little lion. Ride or die.”
“Ride or die.”
Everything that her parents had put her through mixed with the disorder had caused her to fall into a toxic tornado of feelings she couldn’t control. The doctor told us that most cases like Aurelia’s didn’t get diagnosed until someone had a mental breakdown, or sadly tried to kill themselves. So he gave her the number to group therapy for people with disorders like hers.
I had yet to convince her to attend a group meeting. She said she didn’t want to sit in a circle talking about her feelings like she was in kindergarten. So we just worked on finding her a therapist, and I think we found a match.
Slowly we found a routine. Nothing would ever go back to the way it was, because things were different now. But we were all finding our footing and trying to make our way through this together. My dad was struggling the most, I think. Riggs had told him multiple times she didn’t want him to treat her differently than before, but it was hard for him.
Every time he saw her, he hugged her and asked her how she was doing at least fifty times. But she understood it was his way of dealing with everything. I think secretly she was thankful for him caring so much. It made up for the fact her parents still didn’t even bother to ask if she was all right.
They hadn’t so much as acknowledged the fact they almost lost their daughter. I honestly don’t think they cared either way. Losing Riggs wouldn’t have affected them. Not the way it would have affected me and my dad. We were her family.
“Was today okay? Did you try that nausea medication this morning?”
They had her on a mood stabilizer for her disorder, but it had been making her sick when she took it in the morning, so they had tried a few different nausea medicines. Although she wasn’t telling me, I think she hated taking the medicine, she had mentioned it made her feel like a robot.
I’d seen that some people experienced the same feeling. They missed the mania, the high, the euphoric feeling. But I think Riggs was taking the good with the bad. If it meant she could avoid the depression, she’d take anything.
“Today was good. The nausea pills worked fine. They taste like swamp ass though. Those things are the size of fucking horse testicles!” I hear her moving around more. “I didn’t feel like killing my boss today, but I did flip him off when he wasn’t looking. I chalk that up as a good day.” I roll my eyes. Riggs loved her job, but her boss was a fucking idiot.
“How many text messages have you received from the dollar store John F. Kennedy?” I hear her throw something that sounds a lot like heels onto the floor, and I laugh slightly.
“Only a few today.”
“No, he’s fucking mental. That’s what he is. Who says the shit he said to you and then expects you to be okay with it?”
I remember bits and pieces of the fight between Bishop and Preston. My mind was running on auto-pilot most of that day, but I do remember him saying that Riggs was doing it for attention.
I’ve never wanted to head-butt somebody so badly in my life. How fucking ignorant do you have to be?
For obvious reasons, I told him I was done. That did not go over well. Apparently, “No one breaks up with Preston Huntington.” His words, not mine. I thought I was going to have to get a restraining order, because he had shown up at the apartment one to many times.
He stopped showing up when my dad answered the door and threatened to kill him. Now he just messages me constantly about how sorry he is, and that he misses me. I was done talking to him, so he can continue to text me as much as he wants, but I will not be replying.
He, of course, accused me of leaving him for Bishop. The number of times he told me how inappropriate it was for me to be naked in front of another man was ungodly. I had plenty of voicemails about how much of a ‘bad woman’ it made me, how he knew I was cheating on him, the list goes on and on.
How could I explain to him that the only person that was going to pull me out of the darkness I was drowning in was Bishop? How did I tell him that I was still in love with someone who was so bad for me?
For the first time in my life the one person who wasn’t involved in my stress or pain was Bishop.
Bishop Maverick was the most unproblematic person in my life at the moment. He had called me a few days after Riggs’ was released and told me everything I needed to hear before I could even explain myself.
He said he knew I needed time, that I needed a moment of quiet to gather myself. He wasn’t rushing me, he was waiting. Whenever I was ready, he was ready.
The scariest part about that? I think I believed him.
When B came into that hospital, I felt him.
He was my sun, and I could feel his warmth from the moment he walked into the room. That’s what it felt like to love Bishop Maverick. It felt like watching the sunset at the end of a long day. You’d walked for miles and miles for the perfect view and then you found it. That's what loving him felt like.
I’d never needed someone so badly in my entire life as I did when I was in that hospital room. I just wanted B.
Loving Bishop had never been the problem. Trusting him with my love was.
“Does that mean you’re team Bishop again?” I’m joking, of course.
“I’m on the team that isn’t a piece of shit, and at the moment, Bishop is the lesser of two evils.”
I scoff, “You’re a drama queen. Do you want Chinese food tonight? I’ll pick it up on the way home.”
I open the car door slipping inside and tossing my bag onto the passenger seat. I’d just left practice and my legs were Jell-O. I did not feel like cooking anything today.
“I already ordered Thai food, so hurry and get your ass home. I’m picking the movie tonight, sick and tired of you making me watch fucking rom-coms.”
I laugh. “Fuck you. It better not be Saw or The Hills Have Eyes. I’m not watching the gory shit while I eat my food.”