The fight had been about nothing really. They were always coming to a confrontation over the stupidest things. This time it had been about arranging the living room. They’d bought a new television, and Cameron wanted to move something to better fit it into its spot. But his new wife didn’t like change. He hadn’t even raised his voice as he disagreed with her and told her why he thought the placement should be the way he suggested. But she started crying anyway, making him immediately apologize. In return, she ran to their room and locked herself inside.
The next afternoon, she took too many of her prescription pills for depression and started to convulse. When Cameron came home for work to find her passed out on the bedroom floor, he freaked. He had the presence of mind to call an ambulance, but that was about it. They took her away and pumped her stomach. Afterward, a psychologist came in and did an evaluation. He decided Sienna wasn’t stable enough to be in society, and within hours she was sent to a mental institution for three weeks’ evaluation.
Cameron visited her daily and told her how sorry he was about the fight. He’d never let it happen again. He’d change; she’d see.
But the stress of having to constantly be so accommodating, to always be on the ball and smiling for her, wore on him. After they’d been married six months, Sienna must’ve realized what she was doing to her new husband.
Spring break came and, happy to ditch classes and college for a while, Cameron took her away. They went to the Bahamas and basked in the sun for a week. But Sienna noticed he didn’t try so hard to make her laugh anymore because she mentioned it to him and told him it was okay. He knew
it wasn’t but didn’t argue.
She told him he could leave her. He rejected her idea, of course, and worked extra hard not to let any of his exhausted frustrations show. He didn’t say anything to get them into a fight, and he was constantly nice. Sometimes, all he could do was hold her in his arms and stroke her hair, telling her he loved her.
But she caught him sneaking some of her sleeping pills. When she asked if he was having trouble sleeping, he tried to shrug it off, assuring her he was fine. But she must’ve known better. He couldn’t do this much longer. He couldn’t smile all the time. So Sienna took matters into her own hands. She slit her wrists.
Again, Cameron found her and carried her to the hospital where they stitched her up. This time, she stayed in a mental institution for six weeks.
He went to see her as she lay strapped to her bed. Crying over her, he asked, "What did I do? What did I do wrong this time?"
She merely looked up at him with dull, lifeless. "You’re trying too hard."
Cameron felt about as helpless as he’d ever felt in his entire life.
When Sienna came back after that, things were different. In the beginning, he’d been fresh and ready to make her laugh and pull her from the depths of her sadness. Now, he walked on eggshells, trying to act normal but failing pathetically. One night, after Cameron attempted to make love to her, but Sienna said she wasn’t in the mood, so he lay beside her in the dark and rubbed her back.
"You’d be happier without me," Sienna murmured after a time.
He was quiet for a moment before answering. "I don’t think so."
But Sienna insisted, "You would be."
From then on, it was a lost cause. Everything Cameron did to make Sienna smile was a hopeless endeavor. She’d just look at him as if she couldn’t understand why he bothered.
The third and final time Sienna tried to kill herself, she finally succeeded. Making certain she wouldn’t fail, she first doped herself up on so much medicine, she probably didn’t even feel phase two, which consisted of hacking out parts of her wrists in chunks.
Cameron found her while she was sawing away on her second arm. He cried out and ran into the bathroom, jerking the blade from her hand to throw it against the wall. He had to repaint three times to get out that stain.
Sienna was already so weak, she merely melted against him. Cameron caught her and lifted her into his arms. He drove her to the hospital and carried her into the emergency room, both of them drenched in her blood. As nurses and doctors came hurrying over, he looked down at his wife’s face. She looked bad. She looked dead.
"Why are you doing this?" he sobbed.
Sienna’s eyes flittered open. "It…needs…to stop."
She tried to lift her hand toward his face, but she only got her bloody wrist lifted a few inches before she passed out. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and about four people helped Cameron lay her onto a stretcher. She was unconscious the last moment he saw her, her eyes open but lifeless.
Cameron sat in the waiting room and didn’t bother to call anyone. They’d only get mad at him for running off and marrying a crazy woman. He worried about how long she was going to get stuck in an institution this time. Attempted suicide three times in one year did not look good. He hoped they wouldn’t try to put her away forever. He didn’t want his wife locked away in a nut house.
When the doctor eventually approached him, he got to his feet, expecting the usual.
She’s mentally unstable. We’re going to have to keep her for observation, and she’s going to be taken up to the top floor where the crazy people are kept.
But the doctor said none of that.
"I’m sorry, son," he choked out. "We lost her."
Cameron frowned in confusion. "You what?"
They’d lost her, as in, they didn’t know what room they’d stuck her in, right? Then he wondered how in the world they could misplace Sienna. She would’ve been way too weak to go anywhere on her own.
But the doctor’s eyes filled with sympathy. "Your wife’s dead, Mr. Banks."
Cameron blinked and licked his lips.
"Mr. Banks?"
Cameron jerked back to the present and flew to his feet to stare bleakly at the doctor who’d worked on Olivia.
God,
Olivia
.
Not Olivia.
He thought she was different. He thought—he never would’ve guessed Olivia of all people would try to do this.
Holding his breath, Cameron waited for the news. Was she dead or were they just taking her to the mental ward? God, he needed a drink. He couldn’t imagine a vivacious spitfire like Livy being dead.
Not Livy.
He didn’t know what he’d do if something happened to Livy. Everything with her had been so different than it’d been with Sienna. It’d been better.
"Your wife is checking out at the desk if you want to meet her there, Mr. Banks," the doctor informed him.
Cameron stopped. He realized he’d been holding his breath and suddenly sucked in air. It only made him feel woozier. "She’s alive?" he gasped.
The doctor frowned and eyed him strangely. "Of course, she’s alive. I admit she lost enough blood to warrant a transfusion, but you got her here
in plenty of time to prevent anything serious from happening."
Slumping back into the chair he’d been sitting on, Cam cradled his head in his hands and blew out a relieved breath. The intensity of it nearly made him pass out. He sat for a moment and concentrated on breathing.
She was alive. She was apparently okay. And no one in a white coat was coming to take her away.
He didn’t understand, but he certainly wasn’t going to question it. Olivia was okay. For now, that’s all that mattered.
Blowing out a breath, Cameron pushed to his feet and gritted his teeth. He was more than grateful she was okay, but a new fear lodged itself in his abdomen as he moved toward the check out.
He’d married another suicide junkie.
If he didn’t do something, it was going to be Sienna all over again. But for some reason, Cam knew it’d be more devastating to lose wife number two.
"I’m not going to do this again," he said quietly, staring down at his shaking hands. "I can’t. Damn it. I won’t."
Sixteen
Cameron was strangely quiet as he drove home. In the passenger seat, Olivia snuck quick glances his way. He ignored her, staring bleakly straight ahead. She wasn’t sure what was going on with him. It wasn’t normal for him to be this mute. His silence was almost scary in fact, because he was usually so open with what was on his mind.
Olivia realized she didn’t like not knowing what he was thinking. Sensitive to his mood, she clamped her own mouth shut and closed her eyes, resting her face against the passenger side window. When they reached the house, he came around to her side as if to help her from the car, though Olivia had already opened the door and slid out.
He paused when he saw her taking care of herself. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he turned his back to her and started for the house. When she reached the entrance, he was on the phone.
Olivia had no idea who he was talking to; his voice was muted too low to hear. Slowly, she started for the sofa, wincing with each step she took. She was just settling herself into the plush cushions when he hung up.
Cameron ignored her and picked up the remote control to the television. He turned it on and commenced to pace behind the divan as he stared fixedly at the screen. Trying to watch him made her dizzy, so Olivia gave up and closed her eyes.
~ * ~
Something was wrong.
"Get over here now," Cam growled in Boston’s ear. "And bring your briefcase."
Boston wasn’t sure what had happened, but he hurried out the door as soon as his cousin disconnected. Once he reached Cam’s place, he let himself inside the front door without knocking and found both Olivia and Cameron in the front room.
A relieved breath deflated from his lungs. By the tone in Cam’s voice, he’d been so sure she’d left him.
But there she sat slumped on the couch with Cam pacing behind her,
his hands on his hips. He sent Boston a dirty look as if to say,
What took you so damn long
?
"What happened?" Boston asked, coming to a stop when he saw Olivia’s pale face and bandaged wrist
Cameron merely growled, "Start the annulment papers. Right now."
Boston paused. He glanced at Olivia in confusion. She looked about as shocked as he felt as she twisted around to gape up at Cameron with her mouth falling open. Boston shook his head as not to question anything. Setting his briefcase on an end table, he opened the lid and cleared his throat. "Um, okay. What terms do you want?"
Cameron snorted bitterly. "I don’t give a rat’s ass. Give her whatever she wants. Just get her the fuck out of my house."
Boston looked up at his friend’s words. He glanced toward Olivia again. But she still looked confused, except now there was a load of hurt filling her features.
Boston let out a sigh and set down his papers. "What happened?"
Cameron sneered. "I’ll tell you what happened." He jabbed his finger toward Olivia. "Little Miss Spoiled Princess here didn’t get her way and couldn’t have the speedy annulment she wanted, so she came home and tried to slice her wrist open with a broken piece of glass."
"What!" Boston and Olivia gasped together. Boston looked at her, and she turned to stare at him as if she assumed he was behind her husband’s announcement. He could only shrug and shake his head.
She swiveled back to Cameron. "What in the world are you talking about?"
Cam finally gave her his attention, cutting his eyes toward her with a killer glare. "If you want to overdose on pills, cut open your wrists—do whatever to try to commit suicide—I don’t care. Just don’t ever do it on my time again."