Page 29 of Psycho

“Anything?”

Arrow shook his head.

“No, we’re not having sex. Not when you’re like this.”

His words seared into my gut like a sizzling iron brand. Shame prickled up my spine with a thousand scorching needles.

I understood his reasoning—I wasn’t entirely in my right mind at the moment. And Arrow was extra careful when it came to my consent. During a manic episode, I tended to get reckless, wild, and threw caution to the wind. I said yes to things that I shouldn’t, just for the thrilling rush of adrenaline.

My emotional state was too fragile, too volatile and reactive, to grasp that reasoning.

“Like this?” I jabbed my finger in my chest. “This is what I’m like all the time, Arrow. This is me. There will never be a time when I’m not like this.”

Arrow held up a hand in an attempt to reassure me.

“Hold on, I didn’t mean it that way—”

“I want to do better,” I said, my voice cracking. “I’ve been to the doctors. I’ve tried the medications. I do the damn breathing exercises. And I try. I try so hard.”

“I know you do, sweetheart.”

“But it’s never enough. I’m still…like this,” I added, gesturing to myself. “I wish I could change my brain. I wish I could just start over and be someone else. Someone who is easy to love.”

Arrow sat on the edge of the tub, pulling me down into his lap.

“Hey, hey, I never said you’re hard to love.”

I made a strangled noise, part bitter laugh, part sob.

“You didn’t have to say it. I see evidence of it every single day of my life. No family, no friends, no home, no job. I’m nobody.”

He frowned, swiping a tear away from my cheek. Taking my hand, he turned my palm up, pressing his thumb to the scar there.

“You are mine, Bobbie. I promised you that, remember? You are mine and I am yours.”

My vision misted with tears and my jaw ached from clenching my teeth to stop myself from bawling like a baby.

“I should be alone, Arrow. It’s better that way. Even my own family couldn’t love me.”

“No,” he said. “I won’t give up on you. I won’t let you go. You’re my girl, Bobbie. That has never changed.”

Damn it, why did he have to be so stubborn? I pressed my palms to my eyes, fighting to compose myself.

“It’s not your job to fix me. It’s not your job or your responsibility. And maybe…maybe I’m too broken to be a wife.”

“Then we won’t get married,” Arrow replied.

My heart felt like it was splitting open. I couldn’t breathe. My chest hurt. Isn’t that the answer I wanted to hear? Arrow would marry someone else, someone who wasn’t me. He deserved that.

But it was going to kill me. Slowly. From the inside out.

Arrow pressed his forehead to mine as I clamped a hand over my mouth to hold back the gut wrenching sob that was welling up in the pit of my stomach.

“I don’t need a ring or a wedding or a certificate of marriage to love you, Bobbie,” he said. “I have always wanted just you. Whatever wacky color your hair is. Whatever is going on in your brain. I. Want. You.”

My heart was racing a mile a minute, and a wrecked noise of relief tore from my throat.

“It’s not fair,” I whimpered.