The Weight of Madness Read online

  “But it sounds like it would’ve in fact ended that way eventually,” I said softly, trying to understand it.

  “That’s my point, Sophia. Every love story has an ending. Every single one. And after that one ended in the most tragic way, I just don’t know how to do it again. I don’t deserve to do it again.”

  “Even the good endings are tragic, Lance. My Grandma Eve – her ending is inevitable and it’s going to be more painful than anything else I’ve ever experienced. She’s going to leave this world without recognizing a single familiar person. That’s tragedy in its cruelest form. Even if I’m with her as it happens, the harsh reality is that she won’t even know that pure, uncomplicated love is right there, holding her hand. But I have to believe that somewhere in the furthest corner of her mind, she has to know there was so much love around her. She has to know that even though I cannot fight this final fight of hers, I was there for it, and I know that has to matter. That’s all I’m offering you, Lance. I have no promises that I can fix you or save you or fight any of your battles. I may be completely unprepared to handle anything you face. But I’m merely promising you that I’m willing to see you through it until the end, whatever that looks like for you. And maybe somehow through all the madness – maybe someone believing in you will be enough.”

  “I so badly want to be worthy of the way you feel for me,” he said softly, looking back at me. “All I see when I look at you is a life I don’t deserve to have. Maybe that’s a hard truth. Or worse, maybe it’s the only lie my brain is capable of believing, I don’t know. But I’m breaking, Soph. Maybe some things need to be completely destroyed before they can be rebuilt.”

  “Perhaps some things do. But I don’t think it works that way with people,” I said softly. “You’re right, maybe you are this house – but our perception is different. You see the cracks and the brokenness, but all I see is that it’s still standing despite what you’ve done to it. That’s the same way I see you. You’ve fought this hard to get here, to start over, to be more than you think you are. That matters. That fight in you – the fact that you’re still giving up your heart and your time to make a difference in other people’s lives, the bond you have with your brother, the way you ignite something in me - you have this spark in you, Lance. It’s there. I’m sure of it, because I’ve seen it in you all along. You are capable of so much more than you can imagine right now. Maybe you aren’t yet the person that you’re meant to become, fine. But I’m certain you’re still worthy of greatness, Lance. You just have to believe it first.”

  “All I know is that I’m incapable of loving you as I am, Soph. I want to so badly, but I just don’t know how to do that with this madness in my head. All the doctors I’ve seen - they just keep telling me I need more time and more distance from everything that happened, but time has passed and I’m still being tormented by all of these things in my mind. I’m trying, but I don’t know if I’ll ever get better.”

  “Neither do I,” I replied with a shrug. “I don’t have any answers for you, Lance. If this is what you really believe you need to do – to break every room in order to start over, then do it. I’ll even help you,” I added, leaning down to pick up his axe. “I will literally smash this place into tiny pieces if that’s what it takes to convince you that this battle you’re in will be every bit worth going through in the end.”

  He reached out and grabbed the axe from my hands, resting it against the wall behind him. “You really think I could be capable of loving a girl like you?”

  “I’m absolutely certain of it. I can’t understand what you’re going through, or what you feel, or what’s going on in your head. I know that. I realize you’ve been right this whole time - this is all bigger than me. I’m not your cure. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I know that now. Wishing you better doesn’t make it true, I understand that now more than ever. I’ve finally come to realize that I can’t give you the help you truly need to get better. All I know is that there’s a victory in every battle, I promise you that. The mere fact that you have something to fight for – this – us - that in itself is something extraordinary and that’s all I want you to realize. So fight, Lance. However you need to - whatever that looks like for you. Become the person you want to be. Even if it takes time, more time than you imagined, never stop fighting to become that person. Give it your best effort, even when you still feel like you’re breaking. If you do that, you are every bit worthy of loving a girl like me.” I leaned in and gently kissed him. “Break everything in here. Or, let it heal you and rebuild you. Just know that whenever you’re ready – once you’re finally willing to accept that you’ve become the person I already know you to be – know that I’m already there, waiting for you.”

  “What exactly does that mean?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know what else to do. So I’m heeding my grandma’s advice, whether it’s real wisdom or pure insanity, but quite frankly I’m losing myself between the two at this point,” I admitted. “Heal, Lance. That’s all I ultimately want for you. Clear out the madness, however you need to. Or conversely, learn to live with it. Accept it, just as I’ve done. There’s no failure in that, you know. Maybe it will always be a part of you. Maybe you can’t rid yourself of it completely. I know forgiving yourself doesn’t mean forgetting everything you’ve been through, but I do know that until you see yourself the way I do, you’ll never be able to move forward. I realize that. So take a few days. A week? A month if you need it, there’s no timeframe here. I don’t know what that looks like, but you have to get out of this madness that you’ve completely lost yourself in. That’s the only way we’re going to make it. Maybe for you it will take pills and doctors, or maybe it’s meditation and prayer, I don’t know. But if you’re right, and love alone isn’t enough to save you – then find something else that will.”

  “Where are you going?” he asked as I picked my bag up from the floor.

  “I’m giving you an opportunity to fly, Lance. I don’t belong here. This is your place,” I replied softly. “I don’t get to tell you what to do with it. Just promise me that you’ll get help, however you need to. In the meantime, I’ll wait for you - not because you deserve it, but because I deserve a love like the one I know you’re capable of once you believe it yourself. So heal, Lance. I’m still listening. I’m still present. But maybe you need some silence to hear your own thoughts while you fight through this so you can rely on your own voice, instead of listening to mine. Me, knowing you’re worthy of the way I feel – that will never be enough until you believe it. So I’m stepping back until you decide you’re ready for this. You called Grand Harbor your start-over, right?” I reached into my purse and slid out the papers Lexi gave me. They were still folded in half. I set them down on the only part of the counter that was still standing. “As soon as you come to realize you’re the exact person I’ve already fallen for, then come for me. You know where to find me. Come and get me, and let’s start over.”

  I offered him a sincere smile, and then turned and left the room. Walking away from him in that moment felt heavier than when he first walked away from me, but it felt necessary nonetheless. I couldn’t feel what he felt. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the guilt and shame he felt from his past. I did know one thing, though: he either had to change, or accept who he already was. One of those two things had to happen for us to move on. There was no failure in either one for me, but he was the one who had to realize that. I had to believe my grandma was right, and that maybe this was the push he needed. Lance could fly, and I knew it, but maybe this was the only way to get him to believe it himself. This really was my very last resort – and all I could do now was hope it wasn’t a mistake.

  I stepped out the front door, and as I reached my car, I saw his shadow standing in the doorway of the cabin. “I’m going to get better for you, Soph. I promise you that. I will figure out how to see myself the way you see me - and when I do, I’m coming to get you.”

  “I believe you,” I repl
ied softly, unsure how well he could even hear me across the distance between us.

  Chapter 21

  For the first time since Sparks opened, I called in sick to work. Mondays were usually slow anyway, so I didn’t feel all that bad about it. The truth was, I really felt ill. My eyes were swollen and puffy from crying, and I couldn’t even determine how I felt about the way we’d left things as I drove away from the cabin the night before. I already believed in Lance with everything in me, but I knew there was no way we could move forward until he believed in himself. I was convinced I’d done the right thing – but I wasn’t sure he had the same sentiments. I spent the day confined to my apartment, refusing calls from Olivia and Lexi other than brief texts to let them know I wasn’t in the mood for conversation. I watched useless reality TV, and that certainly didn’t help my mood. I tried to read a book, but my brain ached beyond my ability to concentrate on anything. I went to bed early, hoping the following day would be better.

  I walked in through the front door of the shop, less than amused by Gianna’s bubbly morning greeting. I didn’t even have it in me to offer anything more than a half smile.

  “We finally decided on a name,” Austin said enthusiastically as I walked into the back warehouse area of the shop. “Whoa, you look terrible. You okay? When you said you were sick yesterday, I thought that just meant hung over or something, but you actually look awful.”

  “The exact words every girl wants to hear when she hits rock bottom,” I replied sarcastically, not in the mood to rehash the details with him. “I’m fine. Kind of. Okay, I’m a wreck actually, but I’m working on it. What are you naming?”

  “Uh… the baby I’m about to have in two months? Remember? Crazy huge pending life change that’s going to rock my entire world…”

  “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking clearly,” I admitted, feeling even worse now. “I thought you were keeping the name a secret?”

  “We were, back when we also wanted to be surprised by the gender. But ever since we found out we’re having a boy, Anne has been eager to lock it down so she can get a million things engraved or embroidered or whatever it is you women do to put names on everything. I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but I can’t keep it in. We’re going with Arthur.”

  “Your grandfather?” Austin was really close to his family, and the thought of it warmed me.

  “Yeah, he’s not doing so well. His cancer came back, and it seems to be pretty aggressive. We thought it would be a nice gesture. Hopefully he gets to meet his first great-grandson.”

  “That’s really wonderful. I bet that will mean a great deal to him.”

  “We’re having a name reveal party next weekend,” he continued. “I didn’t even know that was a thing, but Anne said she saw it on the internet so apparently her feelings on it were immediately validated. Apparently as long as a woman finds one thing on Pinterest related to her general mindset, then it becomes a necessity. Anyway, her family was all going to be in town for a visit anyway, so she thought it would be fun. I shrugged at her, and fourteen minutes later she was buying party supplies online, so apparently a man’s indifference is the new ‘yes.’ Who knew?”

  “Every woman,” I muttered with a slight laugh.

  “Anyway, we’d love to have you come. If you’re free.”

  “I’m free indefinitely,” I said with heavy sarcasm. “I’d love to come.” He didn’t ask any follow-up questions, and for that I was grateful. In no time I was back to sketching and setting out some new fixtures on display, and slowly I began to feel like myself again. It still felt like some small piece of me was missing, but it was a drastic improvement from the day before when I refused to step out into the sunlight.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Gianna stated as I was cleaning the inside of the store windows. “Yesterday there was a folded up piece of paper in the front mail slot, and then there was another one today.” She reached behind the counter and handed me two small folded pieces of paper. “Sorry, I read them. I didn’t know what they were at first, or who they were even for. But I’m guessing they’re yours.”

  “That’s okay, thank you,” I said appreciatively, reaching out to take the folded pieces of paper from her. I read the first one.

  Bullfrogs. I couldn’t figure out the sound at first, but then I realized what it was. I listened to them all night long as I sat on the balcony, thinking of you. I couldn’t decide whether or not I loved or loathed the noise, other than to be thankful there was any sound at all. The small, continuous reminder that they were still there is what caught my attention. You were right about everything. There is so much worth fighting for, and I want so badly to become the person you already think I am. I imagine there are so many nighttime noises surrounding me when I’m alone, but up ‘til now they’ve always been drown out by the anger in my head. I hear the nighttime noises now though, and it feels like the first time I’ve noticed them. Perhaps distance will bring clarity. I understand why you’re giving me space, and that further makes me want to prove myself to you. Until I’m better, I hope these notes I leave for you every day will be the noise in your head reminding you I’m still here, still present in some way – just as my thoughts of you will remind me that I am not alone in all of this. I promise to fight for this, Soph – with everything I have. Give me time to sort through this, and I will be yours.

  I mulled the paper around in my hands for a minute, thankful for the correspondence. I really hoped this meant he was trying. I wasn’t sure what that looked like – doctor appointments? Medication? Some kind of new therapy? At the very least, I appreciated the way he was still giving part of himself to me, as best he could for the time being. That mattered. I opened up the second note.

  Four appointments set for this week. Just wanted you to know I’m trying. I’m starting a new project this week for Reclaimed. We’re putting a new roof on a Halfway House for men who have been released from prison after twenty plus years. I suppose that’s further proof than I needed that there are so many broken people in this world in need of their own start-over. Glad I’m finding mine – and glad I have you to push me.

  I appreciated the note. I was happy to hear about his work, and equally thrilled that he’d set some appointments. There had to be progress somewhere in all of this. I whole-heartedly believed it.

  I finished out the rest of the day doing odd jobs around the shop. I sketched quite a few new fixtures, and was quite pleased with that. Austin and I discussed some of our upcoming projects and it felt like a productive day.

  I had dinner with Grandma Eve, and she was her usual spunky self. That always lit me up and warmed my spirit. I told her all about my situation with Lance, and she brought up the mine story all over again, which was interesting to me. Perhaps it really was something she’d gone through with my grandpa. I was grateful to know that their story at least worked out in the end. I hoped so bad that Lance would also return the way my Grandpa Harold had after he’d worked through his issues.

  The next morning, there was another piece of paper shoved through the mail slot of the shop door. I appreciated how reliable these notes were over the past several days – he must’ve been dropping them off either late at night or really early in the morning, as it was there already when I arrived to the store at a quarter ‘til seven.

  Mick’s Diner. It’s a place down in Carlstown near the river off the east bank. You can sit out by the water and watch pontoon boats float by. There are huge willow trees cascading toward the ground and wildflowers everywhere along the bank of the river. It’s peaceful. Tranquil. Calm. I can see myself taking you there, walking along the edge of the water on a sunny day… I’m going to take you there. Just thought you should know.

  The note was interesting to me – it wasn’t something we’d talked about before, and it seemed as though so much would have to happen before this would ever come to fruition – but it was comforting nonetheless. Maybe that would happen for us – maybe in the not-so-distant future, that could be us, strolling
down the river in his hometown without any other cares in the world. I appreciated the way he was looking forward to something, instead of forever stuck in his past. There had to be healing in that.

  I finished out my uneventful workday, then stopped by Grandma Eve’s for tea around four-thirty.

  “Did you have your salon appointment this morning?” I asked as we sat together in the tea room, choosing our items from a small white scrolled cart against the wall. “I thought your salon days were Mondays.” Her nails were painted a bright purple, which was quite out of character for her. They looked nice, but certainly noticeable.

  “I didn’t have salon day today,” she said dismissively.

  “Well yesterday your nails were a subdued shade of mauve,” I added. “Someone painted them. Was it Jodi? The day nurse?”

  “No, it was a friend,” she replied coyly as if she was hiding something.

  “Oh really? Another resident here? You have to give me more than that, Grandma. Who was it?”

  “Just someone from my past.” She still wasn’t offering me any more details.

  “Like an old salon acquaintance? Or someone else you knew a long time ago?”

  “Someone from a long time ago, just paying a visit dear,” she stated nonchalantly, brushing me off. I made a note to check the visitor log before I left. She never had visitors. Most of her friends had passed in the last few years, and many others moved away long ago.

  We chatted and drank some tea and she was in and out of her usual state. She asked where my mom was, which was forever a tough response for me, but she was on to another question within seconds after that, which helped. I stayed through dinner, joining her for board game night. On my way out of the facility, I made a point to stop by the front desk to check out the visitor sign-in sheet. I recognized her room number on the paper, but not the name next to it – Frank Rizzo? I’d never heard it before. I suppose it wasn’t completely unrealistic for her to have a visitor I didn’t know, but it did seem unlikely. The receptionist was already gone for the night, however, so I couldn’t ask any follow-up questions.