Chapter 4: Something Beautiful

Charlotte's POV

ELEVEN MONTHS AGO

We walked into the woods, following a barely discernible path. I wondered how Stephen had known about it, and he must have, as it was nearly impossible to spot otherwise. As we headed deeper into the forest, I was just going to ask him where we were going when I saw it. It was a clearing with a little pond, and a gazebo that must have been gorgeous in its day. It was covered in vines, and the white paint flecked off the wood in a way that should have been off-putting, but was somehow charming.

"Oh wow, it's beautiful," I exclaimed, heading toward the structure, "How did you know that this was here? It's so hidden!" I examined it, and it seemed surprisingly structurally sound for how old it was. Then I realized that there were new floorboards interspersed with the original structure. Someone had ensured that it remained intact. I gave him a questioning look.

"You got me, I've been working on restoring it," Stephen replied with a modest grin, "It's been here forever, and I didn't want to see it fall apart. I like the design, so I'm not changing anything about the underlying structure. I've just been fixing the parts that need it." I was impressed. I wondered why he would spend so much time fixing a gazebo that wasn't even his. But everyone has a hobby, maybe that was his passion?

"You like antiques then?" I asked him, examining the cornices, which were carved with charming images of morning glory flowers. "We have that in common! I love all things from the nineteenth century. Buildings, furniture, literature, I love it all. I have no idea why, actually. There's just something about that time period that speaks to me, I've always been that way." I turned and looked at him, and was surprised by a sudden urge to kiss him. There was just something about him that drew me to him. Maybe it was his kind eyes, or his gentle smile. He was classically handsome, no doubt about that. But it was more than that. I felt somehow connected to him on another level, and I didn't really understand why. This was only our second meeting.

"Yes, clearly you do," he replied, amusement glimmering in his green eyes, "I don't think anyone would want to stay here if they didn't. I feel the same way about the 1800's. And when I see something beautiful that needs taking care of, I just have to do it." He gently placed his hand on the side of my face, and kissed me softly. It was sheer magic. I felt my entire body respond to him in a way that it never had with other men. I wanted to get closer, to feel him. To touch his hair. But before I could do anything more, he smiled and stepped away.

"We'd better get going, I have some things I need to attend to today," he said regretfully, "I hope I see you again soon."

That sounded promising, and I nodded. Although he had been the one to pull away, he had also been the one to initiate the kiss. I had no idea what was going on, and why he had to leave so suddenly. But I knew that I needed to see him again.

***

PRESENT DAY

"Are you calm now, Charlotte," Dr. Felderman asked me, "Are you ready to talk about what just happened?" I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of both questions. I'd just spent the entire day in solitary. I knew that it was almost dinner time because the aroma of lasagne permeated the tiny room, making my stomach growl.

I was neither calm, nor particularly interested in discussing my reaction. But I needed to start playing the game or I was never going to get out of this ROOM, never mind the hospital. And I had to admit, I wanted that lasagne more than I wanted to keep fighting with the staff at this place.

"Yes, I am," I replied, with my game face on, "I'm sorry I did that to your office. I'm calmer now, and I didn't mean to lose my temper. It won't happen again." Only the latter part of that sentence was actually the truth, and that was mostly due to the fact that I knew I was on thin ice with him. I had to admit to myself, I was glad that those guys had stopped me from smashing his framed degrees on the wall of his office. That would have been bad, for a variety of reasons.

"Well ok then," he said, and sighed, "We need to talk about why you reacted that way. Are you ready to do that?"

Not with you, I thought, you don't understand. You will never believe me, ever. But I couldn't say that. I wasn't going to change his perception of the situation. I needed to begin pretending that I agreed with him, pronto.

"I don't like it when you point out the reality of my situation," I said tentatively, and gazed at the violet twilight outside his office window, "I get upset when you imply that I can't see Stephen again. I know that you're right, but it still makes me angry. I'm sorry I took it out on you." I will see him again, I will, I thought. I'll just never be stupid enough to tell you about it again.

"That's good, Charlotte, that's good," he replied gravely, and stroked his ridiculous beard as if he was petting a ferret, "So here's what we're going to do. I'm going to let you out, and you'll be able to have dinner with the rest of the group. Your sister is coming to see you tonight, and I need to know that you'll be calm enough for a visit. Do you think that you can do that?"

"Yes, yes, definitely," I affirmed, eager to eat AND see my sister again, "I absolutely can, I promise."

My sister, Arabella, was the well adjusted one. Whereas I had been in the system for years and years, she had been adopted by a wonderful family when she was four. Arabella didn't even remember being without parents, and I was glad of that. She had been able to find love and build a family with an adoring husband and two beautiful children. Arabella was everything that I was not.

***

I always felt guilty that Arabella had to see me in here. In addition to the perfect family, she also had a high-powered job as an attorney that kept her more than occupied. It wasn't easy for her to come, for a variety of reasons, and I was grateful that she did.

"Hey Char, how are you doing," she asked, assessing me with a kind but critical eye, "You look skinnier. Have they been feeding you in here?"

They had been feeding me, but I just wasn't always hungry. Apart from lasagne night, it was hard for me to have an appetite. Since Stephen had left, I just didn't feel like eating most of the time. But there was no way I was telling her that. Arabella worried about me more than was fair to her already.

"Yes, I'm good," I assured her with a weak smile, "I'm really, really glad to see you! How are you? How are the boys? And Ryan?" Ryan was Arabella's handsome husband who was also an attorney. They had met in law school, and had been together ever since. Together they were quite the power couple. It occurred to me for about the millionth time that if we weren't sisters, there was no way she would be hanging out with me. Librarians on leave in psychiatric hospitals aren't really in her inner circle.

"The boys are great, and Ryan is arguing a big case in D.C. right now," she said proudly, "So I've been working from home for the past week, trying to keep things on track until he gets back." She was perpetually the perfect mother, wife, attorney and sister. There was nothing Ari couldn't handle. We couldn't be more different if we tried.

"That's great to hear, I just miss you all so much," I said with a sigh, "I really want to do better, Ari. I want to get out of here so that I can see you guys!" It was true. I'd had enough of this place. Despite how things might have appeared, I wasn't crazy. I was pissed off, sad, and sick of hanging out in a hospital, but not crazy.

"The doctor said that you had an incident today," she replied, concern filling her light gray eyes, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Damn that man for telling her. My sister had more than enough on her plate as it was. I needed to reassure her that I was fine.

"I'm ok, I just got angry at the Doc, that's all," I replied lightly, "He doesn't want me to think about Stephen, and it's hard, you know? But I'm getting there. Really, I am. I promise."

"Char, you do know that it is actually better for you if you don't think about him so much," she said, gently, "There are other guys out there. In fact, Ryan has a friend he'd like you to meet when you feel up to it!"

I smiled and nodded in all of the right places as my sister expounded on the great qualities of this guy, Sam, that her husband wanted me to meet. I knew that she meant well, Arabella always did, but she didn't understand me. No one had ever really understood me except for Stephen, and I was never going to see him again unless I got out of there. How was I going to do that?