TW: mention of suicide attempts and suicidal thoughts
"What are you thinking about?" Gina asked Claire the following day as Claire stared out of the window in deep thought.
"I was thinking about going back into therapy," Claire answered honestly.
"Oh." Gina wasn't sure what to say. "Is everything okay?"
"Yes." Claire smiled. "I think I'm ready to face my phobia. I just don't know how to do it on my own."
"Which one? The one of deep water or the one of life?" Gina asked slightly teasingly.
"I don't think I have been particularly s*icidal in a while," Claire replied shifting her gaze to Gina.
"That's good." Gina nodded. "Do you want me to have a look for some good therapists?"
"I think I can manage." Claire smiled. "I'm just not sure if it is a good idea."
"Of course, it is, if you just feel ready for it."
"I think I am ready. I refused to get anywhere close to any deeper water for about six or so years. I haven't gotten near lakes or sea, never mind pools or even having a decent bath." Claire chuckled. "I'm such a mess." She added in a self-depreciative tone.
"Yeah," Gina nodded. "Let me know if you need any help with it."
"As I've said, I'll think I'll manage. I just wanted a bit of reassurance that it wasn't the worst idea ever."
"Of course not. Mental health isn't a joke!" Gina said reassuringly. "Just remember to not put too much pressure on yourself. It isn't going to go away after the first session."
"I know." Claire nodded. "Did you need anything?"
"I was about to send the contract to my client and I wondered if that's okay and if you managed to have a look."
"I did. It's perfectly fine." Claire said encouragingly.
She searched far and wide to find a therapist that specialised in her type of phobia and that had good reviews, before calling them and arranging the first session the same evening.
About the same time, Pattison walked into Gabriel's office with a sombre face.
"What's the problem?" Gabriel asked directly.
"Some time ago you asked me to find a connection between your father and Claire…" Pattison started carefully. Gabriel looked up quickly, worry written all over his face.
"Yeah?"
"I found something that was hidden very carefully." Pattison walked up to Gabriel's desk, placing a few printouts in front of him.
"Are those some medical records?"
"Yes." Pattison nodded. "Claire's medical records. They haven't shown on her medical check and were classified. I've managed to use some of my connections to get them…"
Gabriel started reading through the papers.
"It's from a psychiatric hospital…" Gabriel said as his eyes widened.
"Yes." Pattison nodded.
"Claire was sectioned under the Mental Health Act?" Gabriel asked in disbelief.
"Yes." Pattison nodded again.
"Why?"
"Her full medical records are further on," Pattison said carefully. "I believe that she attempted a s*icide."
"When was this?"
"About six years ago…" Pattison said carefully. "About a month after the incident..."
Gabriel pressed his hands on his face.
"How is my father involved?" Gabriel asked, afraid of an answer.
"Moore Pharmaceuticals was responsible for the classification of these records."
"Do you have any idea why?" Gabriel asked, feeling his rage build up.
"No." Pattison shook his head. "Did she tell you about any of this?"
"No. She's hesitant to speak of it." Gabriel admitted. "I mean, do you blame her?"
"Of course not," Pattison said.
Gabriel read through the documents that described Claire's care during the three months of hospitalisation. Her doses of antidepressants, and her supervision as she showed a continuous interest in ending her life. How she stopped eating, sleeping, and functioning. How she deteriorated within the first few weeks, making several attempts on her life. How she was terrified to even take a shower because water touching her body made her panic.
Gabriel felt his heart break into millions of pieces as he read page after page. His anger was sipping as he hated the people who did it to her, feeling that justice has failed Claire and that no matter what punishment they were due now, it wasn't sufficient for the life they'd destroyed.
Gabriel was still in awe of Claire, of how she managed to collect herself enough to continue her degree almost immediately after being discharged, and how she still managed to finish at the top of her class.
Pattison left Gabriel alone, giving him time to read through the documents, and time to process them as well as grieve over Claire's past.
It took Gabriel a while to collect himself, and even longer to put it at the back of his mind enough to continue with his day.
As he saw Claire enter the elevator at the end of the day, he felt even more sadness. Even though she smiled at him, he wanted to embrace her and hold her tightly, and reassure her that nothing like this will ever happen to her again.
"Are you done for today?" Gabriel asked, his voice was a little shaky.
"Yes, but I have something else to attend to," Claire answered honestly.
"Anything fun?"
"I doubt it." Claire shook her head. "What about yourself?"
"I was hoping to go home and finish the book from you."
"Best of luck then." Claire smiled as she looked up at him.
"I'll need it." Gabriel smiled, but his smile was weak. "I had to stop after reading chapter twenty-one."
"For me, it was chapter fifteen. I always found the diagnosis very difficult to read about," Claire admitted.
"It was bad, I do admit. But chapter twenty-one struck a note with me."
Claire reached out for his hand, squeezing it momentarily before the lift opened on the ground floor.
"I'll see you tomorrow." Claire smiled as she walked out of the elevator first.
Gabriel looked behind her, slowly making his way out, still trying to fight an urge to run behind her and hold her forever.
Gabriel didn't realise that Zoe came out of the second elevator, watching him carefully.
"What's wrong with you?" She asked sharply.
"Nothing." Gabriel shook his head.
"Did something happen between you two?" Zoe asked curiously.
"No." Gabriel shook his head again. "All is well."
"God, you're a horrible liar." Zoe laughed. Gabriel looked at her sideways, scowling at her. "Don't worry. I'm not going to butt in." She shrugged. "Just wondered if you needed a tip or two on how to deal with Claire."
"A tip?" Gabriel turned now to face her.
"Claire has a set of very simple instructions that seem to work."
"Yeah?"
"Attention and time mean to her more than anything you can buy."
"I know." Gabriel smiled.
"She needs patience and a lot of it. She needs time. You can't rush things with her otherwise you'll startle and scare her off. If she feels cornered or overwhelmed, she'll isolate herself. And when I say that you have to take things slow with her, I mean slower than the snail's pace."
"I think I caught on to that already." Gabriel nodded, looking towards the door where Claire disappeared a few moments earlier.
"Not sure whether you remember your first love, your teenage crush. Imagine it is that."
"In what sense?"
"When you first fall in love you're usually very careful. You don't know anything about it so you're cautious. You watch your every move."
"I see." Gabriel nodded.
"You can thank me later," Zoe said smugly. "I'll accept a bottle of wine."
Gabriel laughed at her directness.
"I'm starting to wonder whether it was a good idea that Claire told you about us."
"Probably not," Zoe admitted. "Don't worry, Gina's been lecturing Claire for the past few days. Someone needs to give you some pointers too."
"Are we that clueless?"
"Hasn't it been over four months since you signed the contract? And did you even see each other naked?" Zoe asked openly.
"I think this is a good point to cut you off," Gabriel said, turning beetroot red.
"Exactly." Zoe took out a cigarette from her handbag. "Good luck."
"Thanks." Gabriel looked at Zoe with utter amusement, leaving the lobby himself moments later.
Claire made her way to the outskirts of the city, entering the tall building.
She steadied her breath and walked into the dark office.
Before long she was called into the room, where she sat in a large armchair. She hated it. It always felt as if the person opposite her was silently judging her, that they must be thinking that she was crazy and that she might end up in the hospital again.
"What brings you here, Miss Thompson?" The woman asked in a soft tone. She sat in the chair opposite, wearing a suit of sorts. She had short brown hair.
"I have been struggling with a phobia. For years it was debilitating, and even now I feel like it holds me back. I think I'm ready to deal with it." Claire said carefully.
"What are you afraid of?"
"I believe it is a form of aquaphobia, leaning more towards thalassophobia. I have gotten better with some things. I can take a shower without any issues, as long as the water doesn't directly flow onto my face. But, I can't stand any form of the body of water which can submerge me, including baths."
"Explain to me what happens if you go near a bath."
"I panic. And I don't mean just getting nervous, I'm talking about full-out panic. I can't move or breathe. I feel my entire body going into some weird paralysis. And I am unable to get out."
"What about your emotions?"
"Usually it's a feeling of impending doom and a sense of loss of control. I am sure that I am going to die." Claire hesitated before reaching into her handbag. "I have documentation of my previous treatment." She handed the papers to the therapist, who read through the pages carefully. "I'm not sure whether that might provide a better insight into it."
"Thank you." The woman said with a warm and reassuring smile. "We certainly can work on this. We have a few options. I'm sure that you heard of CBT before. We can work on slowly desensitising you by gradual exposure. We have incorporated virtual reality into our treatment which can allow us to start with a more controlled environment first."
"Sounds great." Claire nodded.
"I hope that you don't mind me asking, but the incident described in your records, is it the same one that has been recently in the media?"
"Yes." Claire nodded.
"Shall I understand that this is what prompted your visit?"
"Not quite. I admit that it was something that started that train of thought. I became increasingly upset over how much this event still has a hold on my life. I have tried to deal with it myself and I failed miserably. I possibly made things even worse. But what really prompted me was my partner. He started therapy himself fairly recently to deal with his own issues which are completely unrelated to this, and I think that gave me the courage to try to deal with my problems. I have been barely afloat for a long time, sweeping all of this under the rug and pretending like it never happened."
"I see. That's perfectly normal. Some people need time away from it before being able to face it." The therapist put the records to the side. "How is your mood in general?"
"Pretty average. As it is with the phobia, I feel like I'm floating. A small current might be enough to tip me over, but I haven't felt like I was drowning in a while. Although I have been struggling with anxiety in general, a lot is going on in my life that might be causing it." Claire answered honestly. "If anything, most days I feel numb. I don't think I feel much. And then suddenly I feel all the emotions as if they were amplified. I feel overwhelmed easily."
"Have you thought about harming yourself?"
"No." Claire shook her head.
"Have you thought about ending your life?"
Claire hesitated.
"Yes…" she replied quietly. "Rarely and it's not lingering in my head as obsessively. It's no longer like a broken record. Usually, I'm okay to shove it to the side fairly quickly."
"That's good." Therapist nodded. "It's easy to hang onto the thoughts like this. As long as you feel that it doesn't get stuck for too long, that's okay. I'm guessing that it was different in the past."
"Yes. When I was at my worst, it was the only thought I had. I couldn't stop thinking about it. It was almost obsessive." Claire admitted. "At the time, the only way I knew how to stop it was by trying to act on it. It felt like the only way out."
"Uh-huh." The therapist nodded.
"Obviously, I was unsuccessful." Claire smiled awkwardly. "After the first attempt I had a few days when I sobered up and I couldn't shake off the feeling that it wasn't me. It felt as if I were a puppet and that someone or something else led me to it. But then the thoughts started again, which led to further attempts. It took a while to push them aside for long enough to start functioning again."
"I understand. Three-month hospitalisation is quite long, and I'm sure that you're aware of it. Especially since you were admitted under the Mental Health Act rather than your own will. It sounds like there is a lot about that time period that is still causing you a lot of distress, including your time in the hospital. Remember, we can always stop and return to it at another time."
"Yes, I think so. I felt so out of control back then, and if I even get a glimpse of that feeling again, I'm struggling to remain calm."
"Has that happened recently?"
"A few weeks ago I was in a hospital due to hypothermia. I felt very triggered by the whole experience. Moreover, my company forced a two-week leave onto me. I hated every minute of it, and only because I couldn't control it. I felt as if I was imprisoned. My partner ensured that I stayed home for a few days, as instructed by the doctors, but I couldn't stand it. I felt like I could rip him into shreds for trying to get me to rest, for trying to tell me what to do."
"I see. So, anything that feels anyhow out of your control is a trigger?"
"Yes." Claire nodded.
"Today, I'd like to discuss treatment options, and we can meet about once a week to see how you get on."
"Of course."
Claire nodded at her therapist, keen to discuss the treatment plan. She was excited and terrified at once.
She left the building in tears, feeling overwhelmed after the difficult conversation.
She returned to the hotel, spotting the black car parked outside waiting for her to show up.
Claire ignored it as she made her way to the room, too tired to deal with it just then, hoping that she still have time to deal with it the next day, that she will be able to move to yet another place as if that was going to delay the inevitable.
As she walked into the room, she collapsed on a bed, sobbing until she fell asleep. She didn't realise that Gabriel send her a good night message again. She didn't also know that Gabriel barely slept again, re-reading her records over and over again. He was wondering why his father was involved in the classification of Claire's medical records. He wasn't curious but rather concerned for Claire. He already suspected that his father had done something questionable at the very least, but he knew that neither his father nor Claire would tell him the truth. One thing he knew for sure, if he ever had to choose between them, he would stand by Claire. He has no doubts about it.
For years, he didn't get along with his father. Not only was his father abusive throughout his childhood, but also Gabriel believed him to be responsible for his mother's death. He didn't have any solid evidence, but the cause of her death was unclear, never mind the fact that his father didn't get along with his mother for weeks leading to her death, and moreover, he remarried barely three months later. Something about the timing of this made Gabriel sure that there was more to it than just an accident.
Actually, it was his mother's death that turned him into an angry and controlling monster. It triggered something in him that changed him into a sorrowful recluse. He drowned in his grief on his own for so long that he became too familiar with it. He started to embrace it and pretend that it was his real personality.
Gabriel sat for ages, looking at a phone and a message that was left without a response. He hated that he didn't hear back from Claire, and he was increasingly anxious about her well-being. Even though he knew that she needed space, the fact that someone followed her and watched her every move made him uneasy. He wondered if it were possible that his father was responsible for this, too.
At last, he fell asleep in his study as the morning started setting.