Page 17 of Their Darkest Needs

“I know, love, just rest a little bit more,” I shush her. She seems content with my answer and stops fighting the sleep that is trying to drag her back down. I had hoped she would have stopped talking about it when she woke up, but maybe I have to look for a psychologist for her so she can deal with this the proper way, since leaving her to mourn by herself clearly isn’t working.

I sit back down on the chair and call Adelina. I briefly looked into her when Mara was still alive and dating her, and I saw that she used to be a psychiatrist in a mental ward before she lost her job and was forced to work in between two minimum wage jobs to get by. I don’t exactly know what happened—everything is pretty sealed and hard to crack—but her boss claims she was abusing her drug prescriptions to her patients. She still claims she's innocent and I believe her. Call it instinct or whatever, it just never made much sense.

“Hello?” Her soft voice fills the line, and I lower my voice to talk to her so my wife won’t wake up from the noise.

“Hello, Miss Owen. It’s Ryan from the funeral.” I can hear her moving things around on the line like she's cleaning up or something.

“Oh, hi, Taylor's boyfriend, right?” She asks me. I’m slightly annoyed by how she referred to me as ‘boyfriend’ instead of husband.

“Husband, actually. I am calling you because I wanted to talk about Taylor. I heard you are a psychiatrist, and Taylor could really use someone to talk to. I’m worried about her outbreaks, and earlier at the cemetery she fainted and then kept saying she saw Mara and then started to freak out,” I quickly tell her, hoping my little doe isn’t hearing any of it.

“I’m actually not a psychiatrist anymore and therefore not allowed to see patients. I could give you someone. I know his number maybe tha—”

“No, I’m asking you because she trusts you. Don’t see it as a doctor-patient thing, but more as a friend in need. She won’t accept help if it’s not from someone she trusts.” I feel like I’m starting to sound desperate, and I hate it, but I’d crawl on my knees when it comes to Taylor's well-being.

She sighs. “Okay, okay, I’ll do it. I have some time on Monday evening.” Relieved, I give her the location and we settled for a time quickly.

I really hope this might help her, because if it doesn’t, I don’t know what would, and I hate feeling like this. Clueless and helpless.

Taylor

I feel like every time I wake up, there’s something that either hurts physically or mentally. And then they say I’m in the prime of my life. I think I might be at the end of mine at this pace. I feel like I’m just a couple of steps away from death and this fucking headache is not helping me. My throat is dry and my limbs feel heavy, like I have been walking in a desert for days without water.

“Love?” Ryan’s voice has been like an anchor to me these past days, and I am eternally grateful for it, but right now, I just want to throw something at him so he’ll shut up and I can suffer my pounding headache in a quiet room.

“Taylor?”

Ugh. “Please, my head hurts,” I groan out, hoping he can fully understand what I’m saying.

The stabbing pains in my head are only getting worse, and I feel like smashing my head on a wall at this point to make it stop.

Trying to sleep doesn’t feel like an option either because I cannot think straight, and the pain is just keeping me constantly awake.

There’s some tugging at my arm, but I don’t even feel like reacting to it; all I want is for the pain to stop. I’d doANYTHINGto make it stop at this point.

“This should do it,” A woman's voice says. I don’t recognise the voice, and I’m not sure I know where I am right now. I can feel something cold rushing through my veins. I think I should be concerned about that but honestly, I feel like I don’t care anymore. I just need it to end.

Slowly, the stabbing pain starts to fade, and I’m finally able to open my eyes and take in the scene around me.

There’s an IV linked to my arm and some kind of clipper linked to my pointer finger.

Why am I in the hospital again?

“How is your head feeling now, Miss Addams?” a kind voice asks me to my right. I look next to me and see a young nurse with black, tied-up hair standing there.

“Uh, it’s better now,” I assure her, hoping it will make her go away. I hate hospitals, and now that my headache is gone, all I want to do is be at home.

“Good, if it gets worse again, just click this little button over here, and I’ll come,” she tells me while holding a small remote that is connected to the bed I’m lying in.

“Oh, okay.” She seems to have taken enough with my answer and quietly leaves the room, leaving me alone with Ryan, who I’m guessing is the reason I got brought here in the first place.

“Why am I here, Ryan?” I spit out his name with venom, making him slightly wince at it.

“You fainted and had a panic attack, so I made sure they went to check your concussion,” he says. He’s looking down, and there are bags under his eyes like he hasn’t slept well either. He just seems so tired.

“How long have I been here?” He seems to be in some internal battle with himself, whether he should answer me or not on the question. I don’t like that.

“Two days,” he finally tells me.

---