Ed's POV
It was a few months later that I showed up here, and people were still talking about how I disappeared. I took some money and my dignity and just got the hell out. I don't know why every one was so surprised. How was I expected to stay in London after all I had lost?
I actually don't know why I was back, and of all places why had I chosen to do this? It's not like I wanted to talk about what had happened. Unfortunately, my doctor had not seen it that way, so I had been coerced into coming to therapy to "vent my emotions" and "express my feelings". In other words, I had been drinking so much over the past few months that it was either this or rehab, so I had agreed to come if only to get them off my backs.
The woman sitting before me had lank blonde hair that fell in dry wisps around a pale face that was occupied by eyes a bit too wide for me not to stare. Her blonde hair was nothing like Taylor's beautiful blonde curls that seemed to capturer the sun's rays in her vibrant locks. I choked up a bit even thinking about Taylor-how beautifully innocent she had been before...
"So Ed, let's begin," the woman flashed me a too-wide smile before looking down at the file that undoubtedly had a list of all my problems laid out like a list of to-do's.
"My name is Dr. Karen, and I just want you to know that this is a safe place to talk. I am bound by law to not say anything unless I feel like you are a danger to yourself or to others," she recited. I mentally snorted, I was both of those things, so why didn't she just hand me over to the police now?
"So I understand that these past few months have been especially difficult for you, do you want to start from the beginning so I have a better understanding of what transpired?" her curious voice asked. She kept trying to make eye contact with me, but I just stared around the all-too clean room counting the number of diplomas and other certificates lining all of the walls.
She must have realized that I wasn't going to offer up any information, so she stiffened up and tried again. "Ed, can you look at me?" The last thing I wanted to do was stare into her eyes that gave her the appearance of a scared rodent, but I grudgingly obliged, trying to ignore her bulging pupils.
"The only way I can help is if you talk about it, and I know that you want to repress the memories, but I know this is what Taylor would want you to do."
Anger surged through my veins, what gave her the right to say that? As if she knew my wife, as if she had even a slight understanding of what we are-were. However, I knew the only way I could get out of here was by telling this woman something, so I began with the least painful thing I could think of: me getting hit by a car.
I told her how everything began with me in a coma. That time period was still a little blurry, but I tried to include what I knew, minus Cara of course. I had to admit she was a good listener; she didn't interrupt once. The further I went with it, the easier it seemed I could talk about it, and I kept voicing all the crazy things that had happened in the past few months. It hurt talking about Taylor, but at the same time it was therapeutic to finally get everything out.
I ended with finding Taylor in the abandoned wine cellar, then stopped. I couldn't continue, the wound was still too fresh.
The woman leaned over to retrieve a box of tissues and handed them to me. I hadn't realized I was crying until now, and I saw my tear drops wetting my shirt sleeve, a shirt that Taylor had gotten me for our first Christmas together.
"That was great Ed, you opened up to me, and I thank you. We don't have to go any further today, but let's talk about how you felt when you received that first note," she pressed, but I was done.
"I-I'm sorry, I just need to go, can we talk about it next time?" I asked the question, but it was more of a demand.
She looked reluctant to let me go, but I guess she could see that I wasn't going to talk anymore. "All right," she agreed, pulling out a business card, "I'll see you next week, same time. Here's my card in case you need to reschedule."
I thanked her, then went to open the door. Before I stepped out, Dr. Karen called my name, "Ed!" I turned around startled, and she looked at me as if she felt my pain somehow. "Just, I'm really glad you were able to open up to me, I know how hard the loss of someone can be." I nodded and left the room, feeling more exhausted than I had in awhile. I began walking to my small apartment I had rented, I was no longer staying at the flat I had once shared with my wife. I considered which route to take. I knew exactly what bars and pubs would be open at this time of the day depending on which I chose. Surprisingly, I wasn't the only one in this city that wanted to get wasted before noon.
I surprised myself and instead hailed a cab. "Where to?" the driver asked.
I gave him the address to my old flat, the one I had shared with my wife. I had been hiding from my fears for too long, and I knew I could no longer avoid my past.
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