Page 68 of Fractured

“Kat, come with me.”

I stand and follow him to the consult room. This is where families sit and await updates on their critical loved ones. Somehow, it’s almost apropos I should be in here. I feel like my sanity needs life support.

“Okay, cut the crap, Kat. What’s going on? You look like you didn’t get an ounce of sleep, and you’re jumpy. Mel said you were fine when she was with you yesterday. Did Mark text you again? Has he said something to you?” Jake looks at me with the concern of a big brother.

“No. I think everything’s catching up with me. I couldn’t sleep, and the questions about that night are getting to me. I have an appointment with Dr. Miller tomorrow. I’ll get things sorted with him. In the meantime, please don’t say anything to anyone about this. I know you’re trying to help, but I need to handle this on my own. It’s my fault for agreeing to go out with him. I don’t want to disrupt the group over this.”

“All right, if you say so. But would you please tell me if there’s anything I can do? I hate to see you like this. Have you told Nick?”

“No!” I blurt. “And I know you two have talked about me before, but I need this kept between us. I don’t want my baggage being handled by anyone but me. If there’s a chance anything could work out between the two of us, I need to take care of this.” I can feel my body starting to shake at the enormity of all of this.

“Okay, okay. I get it. I promise I won’t tell him anything. But, Kat, that guy really cares about you. He’d want to know if something has happened.”

“I don’t care. I have to handle this on my own. He has his own issues. He didn’t want to talk about his ex-wife and Dr. Lee. It’s not tit for tat or anything, but I’m allowed to keep some things to myself until I’m ready to share. I see Dr. Miller tomorrow. I just need to focus on work the rest of the day, and I’ll be fine. I’ll work it out with him tomorrow.”

“If you say so.” He rubs my arm before pulling back and punching me lightly in the shoulder. So why are you bothering me with your personal drama? Get back to work,” he teases.

As I walk out of the consult room behind Jake, I look up to see Nick coming down the hallway. I really can’t handle that right now. I speed up a bit to get into the emergency room and busy myself. I care a lot about him, but I cannot handle seeing him today. He’ll see right through me. Heck, everyone else has.

“Hi, Jake.” I hear Nick’s voice as I return to the ER. I’m praying my friend will make up some sort of excuse for why I wouldn’t have time to talk to Nick right now. There are only a few more hours before I can go home and get ready for tomorrow. Dr. Miller will help me figure this out.

* * *

“Okay, so everything I tell you here is completely confidential, right?” I blurt, my ass barely in the chair before I give Dr. Miller the inquisition. Nothing like getting right to it.

“Good afternoon, Katarina. Yes, everything you share here is completely confidential. Has something else happened since the last time we spoke?” he asks, fingers steepled under his chin.

“So, I took the Rohypnol test to make sure Mark hadn’t had any involvement in my memory loss the night of our date. I’m supposed to receive the results of that any day now.”

“Well, that sounds like a wise decision. I’m glad you’re trying to take control of your situation,” he reassures.

“I don’t know how much control I have. I got more texts from him last night. The number is still listed as unknown, but I know it’s him. The first texts were warnings not to mention any of this to anyone, but then he sent a picture. There’s no doubt anymore.”

“What picture, Kat? No doubt about what?” Dr. Miller asks, confused.

“So, remember the weird dream I had where I was stripping at a club, and the following morning, I woke up wearing knee-high black boots I’ve never owned before?” I look to see Dr. Miller nodding in agreement. “Well, at the very end of the dream, I thought I recognized Mark being there. But it was a dream, so I didn’t think any more of it.” I reach for my bottled water as my tongue suddenly feels like sandpaper. “It appears it wasn’t a dream. It must have really happened because he texted me a picture, and I’m wearing that thong and those black boots, attempting to cover the rest of my naked body with my hands,” I cry out.

Trying to gather my composure before continuing, I take a deep breath and rub my sweaty palms over my jeans. “Not only have I been gallivanting about the town without any knowledge of my actions, but this asshole has it on film. Beyond the fact I’d be humiliated if the picture came out, I could potentially lose my job. Who wants some exhibitionist taking care of patients in their hospital?”

“So, remind me. This dream occurred before your date with Mark?” he asks, very serious now.

“Yes. I’d stopped taking those pills before my date with him. So, I’m sure it was before.”

“Other than seeing him in the crowd, he had no other interaction with you? In the dream, I mean?”

“No. Not that I recall. But clearly, my mind is not reliable when I use sleeping pills.” I pause and take a deep breath before continuing. “I’m certain it’s the medication that caused me to act this way. It’s been brought to my attention by someone that they saw me out one night, and I have no memory of it.” Hearing myself say this out loud, I’m still as flabbergasted as I was the day Nick told me. “I haven’t had any of that behavior since stopping the zolpidem.”

“To be clear, Kat, you aren’t having any more weird dreams or waking with things differently than you left them the night before.”

“No, not since I stopped the drug. The night terrors are back. But they’re different now. No ex-boyfriends. I just feel like I’m being watched or chased. But I wake up in my pajamas each morning. I’m pretty confident I haven’t gone anywhere.” I watch as Dr. Miller rubs his jawline and appears to consider all I’ve told him.

“When the pictures were sent to you… was there any threat? Did he insinuate what or if he planned to do something with them?”

“No. He texted again to tell me he hadn’t shown them to anyone else and that he was using an untraceable phone. But when I asked why he was doing this, he didn’t respond.” My tears start up again, and I notice I’m clutching the armrests of this horrific green chair.

“Kat. I think you should consider going to the police.”

“I can’t. I have no idea what he wants. I can’t risk making him mad, and then he plasters that picture everywhere,” I shriek. “It was bad enough when I didn’t understand what was happening, but if the whole world sees the shit I’ve been doing under the influence of that pill… well, I can’t handle that, Dr. Miller.”

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