Susan takes a few steps away from me. Her steps are wobbly and that tells me I’m treading in shallow water.
Panic latches on to the walls of my stomach like a parasite that has never fed before. Nausea sets in. I’m pacing again. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. How can I make her understand? How can I make her understand? I try to keep calm. I try to keep myself from crying out. When I finally speak, I can feel my voice-box vibrate in my throat, “I need it.” There’s a sob stuck in my throat and determination pumping through my heart. “I need it,” I repeat. “Please, you have to help me find it.”
“Adelaide, I can’t give you a screwdriver.” There’s force in her voice.
At that moment, I snap and lunge at her. “Please,” I beg, tackling her as tears swell in my eyes. “I’ve got a screw loose. Maybe two.” She screams, and I pin her arms down with my knees. “I can’t tighten them without my screwdriver!” I think of Elijah during my mental break and how I know he would help me. “Call Dr. Watson!” I scream. “Call Dr. Watson! He’ll give it to me! I know he will!”
But instead of calling for Elijah she shrieks, “Help!” at the top of her lungs. She shrieks the word over and over and over again.
Before I realize what’s happening there are staff members stampeding toward me. I have just enough time to get up, back away from Susan and cower in the upper, left corner of the rec room. I tuck myself into a ball, shut my eyes, and hum to myself. Rocking back and forth, I try to even out my emotions, but I’m so lost, confused, and hopeless that I don’t know how to. That’s when I feel a presence hovering over me. Then I hear Susan say, “Who’s Dr. Watson?”
And that’s the last thing I remember before the needle pierces my skin and my entire world goes black.
Chapter Two
~Before~
Sometimes I wonder if every girl and woman envisions what their wedding will be like. I wonder if they picture themselves dressed from head to toe in white satin and lace. Or if they imagine their Daddy’s walking them down the aisle in a church packed full of friends and loved ones. I wonder if they picture a reception a lot like a gala where all of their family and friends come to shower them with gifts, dine on lamb with a garnish of mint sauce, and then they dance until midnight to celebrate their union.
I never had those thoughts.
I never thought I’d live to see my wedding day.
Daddy sucked those private thoughts from my head like a vacuum sucking up a dust ball from the floor.
But here I am.
Today, I am getting married.
I have no family friends to help celebrate this joyous day. Neither does Elijah, so we both settled on a simple marriage by the justice of the peace. After all, we don’t need family now and all the fuss that accompanies a wedding when family is involved. We are each other’s family.
And I couldn’t be happier about that.
I know this because the minute I show up in the courtroom, my midnight locks splayed across my shoulders, wearing my simple, form fitting, boat-neck, white dress that stops just below my knee caps, our eyes lock. Elijah smiles, his breath falters as does mine and I smile in return. My heart flutters in my chest so full of love and joy and an un-waning desire. I know that this day, my wedding day, will be by far the best day of my life.
A life that I can’t wait to share with Elijah.
With slow, steady steps I breeze past row after row of wooden benches, trying to banish the flashback of the last time I was in a courtroom from my mind. How sick and diluted am? Why am I thinking of one of the lowest points in my life on one of the happiest days?
Maybe it’s because I was certain that my daddy’s trial was the last time I thought I’d ever see the inside of a court room and being in one again, even though it isn’t the same one, has brought back painful memories.
But the minute I reach Elijah and he laces his fingers through mine, bringing my right wrist to his lips with a smile and it’s like every torturous memory or thought seeps from my mind protruding through my skin, before cascading down my temples. I beam at the man across from me.
My husband to be.
The conflicted doctor who saved my life.
A man who was somehow able to banish the darkness inside of me and make me feel whole again.
He leans in close, his lips so close to my ear that his warm breath curls around my earlobe and covers it like a down comforter. “You leave me breathless,” he says in a husky tone.
I tighten my grip on his fingertips as we turn to face the tall, bulky, and bald judge. There’s a gleam of conviction in Elijah’s eyes. It’s like he’s never been more certain or determined to do anything in his entire life. It’s like our union is the one thing he wants to excel at. Even more than practicing medicine.
I know this and feel this too.
So when the judge, dressed in a black, flowing robe speaks, I tell myself that I’m ready to take this plunge with Elijah. I’m ready to wade through the dark, murky waters of both of our pasts. And I’m ready to spend the rest of my life hopelessly devoted to the man I love, something I’ve wanted since I was seventeen years old.
After our brief exchange of vows and rings our union is sealed with two radiant smiles, two sets of lips, and one life altering kiss. We are bound. Husband and Wife. Dr. and Mrs. Elijah Watson.