Life Grows Longer Without You

Three years since I was diagnosed with depression, and Asher James had guarded me through every one of them.

He said my medication mattered more than his own life, and he reminded me three times a day, more punctual than any alarm.

His childhood sweetheart, Eliana Fox, had come back from abroad too. A PhD in psychology. She sent me mindfulness recordings every day and taught me breathing exercises.

I thought there wasn't a luckier patient in the world than me.

Until last week, on the lower level of the downtown financial center mall, when I went to buy a hot Americano in my face mask and rounded a corner and saw them.

Asher had his hand locked around Eliana's wrist, pressing her whole body against the wall beside the elevator.

His forehead was against hers, his voice low, the same low voice he used when coaxing me to take my pills. "Just a little longer. She's finally doing better. If I say we're breaking up now, something will happen to her."

Eliana tilted her head up and kissed his chin. "Mm. No rush. We've already registered the marriage anyway."

...

That scalding cup of Americano stayed steady in my hand.

Not a single drop spilled.

I turned and left the mall through the other exit.

Back home, I poured that long-cold coffee into the sink.

The black liquid spun and vanished down the drain.

At seven o'clock sharp, Asher's call came in, right on time.

"Elaine Harding, did you take your medicine?"

I held those few white pills in my hand and answered him calmly.

"I took them."

"Good girl."

I heard the soft clatter of a keyboard on his end. He seemed busy.

"How are you feeling today? Did you listen to the recordings Eliana sent you?"

"I listened."

"That's good. Don't overthink things. I'll be home soon."

He hung up.

One by one, I dropped the pills into the toilet.

I pressed the flush, and the white pills spiraled away to the same place as that cup of coffee.

The lock clicked softly. Asher was home.

He took off his suit jacket, his tie hanging loose, a strange perfume clinging to him.

The one Eliana always wore. White tea.

He came over and reached for me out of habit.

I turned aside to avoid him and poured him a glass of water instead.

He froze for a second, then chalked it up to me being in a bad mood today.

"What's wrong? Upset again?"

He reached out to feel my forehead.

"No."

I pushed the glass into his hand.

"Asher."

"Hmm?"

"Let's get married."

I looked into his eyes and said each word clearly.

His fingers around the glass suddenly tightened.

The water inside gave a little shiver.

A crack showed in the gentle mask on his face, but he covered it over perfectly a moment later.

"Elaine, why bring this up so suddenly?"

He set the glass down, came over, and cupped my face.

"You're not well yet. A wedding is such a hassle. It would wear you out."

"Didn't we agree? Once you've fully recovered, we'd hold the wedding on the most beautiful island in the world."

His tone was gentle enough to drip.

Every word was sugar laced with poison.

Once, I loved hearing him coax me like this more than anything.

Now it only turned my stomach.

"We don't need a wedding. Just register the marriage."

I looked at him, stubborn.

"I want some security."

That line was like a needle, puncturing his feigned patience.

The smile on his face thinned.

"Elaine, what are you talking about?"

"I've been with you three years. Isn't that security enough?"

"Or has someone been running their mouth in front of you again?"

His tone carried a trace of impatient interrogation.

Something that had never once passed between us.

After my diagnosis, he was always so careful, unwilling to say even a single harsh word to me.

Suddenly I found it absurd.

"No one's been running their mouth."

"I just think it's time we got married."

The air froze in an instant.

We stood there looking at each other, neither willing to back down.

At last he sighed, as if giving in.

"All right, Elaine. We'll do whatever you want."

"When you go in for your checkup this week, if the doctor says you're stable, we'll go register the marriage."

He pulled me into his arms and patted my back gently.

"Stop overthinking, okay?"

The familiar embrace, the unfamiliar heartbeat.

I buried my face against his chest, breathing in that white tea scent that wasn't mine, and closed my eyes.

Look at that, Asher.

A liar doesn't need to rehearse his lies.

On Friday I went back for my follow-up, and the doctor sitting across from me wasn't Dr. Lambert. It was a young man I'd never seen before.

He wore gold-rimmed glasses, his white coat buttoned up without a single crease out of place.

"Hello, Elaine. I'm your new attending doctor. My name is Fergus Henson."

I froze.

"Where's Dr. Lambert?"

"Dr. Lambert left the practice last week."

Asher spoke up beside me. "Elaine, Dr. Henson trained under Eliana. He's a very skilled specialist. I arranged for him to take your case."

That note of looking out for me in his voice made me sick.

Eliana's mentor.

He really had thought of everything.

Fergus's office was spare. One desk, two chairs.

He gestured for me to sit, and Asher moved to sit too.

"Mr. James, you can wait outside."

Fergus's voice was calm, but it left no room for argument.

Asher's face soured.

"I'm her boyfriend. Nobody understands her situation better than I do."

"That's exactly why. You're the person closest to her, and your presence may affect how freely she speaks."

Fergus pushed his glasses up and turned his eyes to me.

"Elaine, what do you want?"

It was the first time anyone had asked me that.

For three years, everyone had simply assumed Asher could make every decision for me.

Myself included.

I looked at Asher and spoke.

"Wait outside."

His expression twisted like he'd swallowed a fly.

But he swallowed it down and walked out, considerately pulling the door shut behind him.

The moment it closed, I heard him on the phone with Eliana, his voice low.

"...What's the deal with this mentor of yours?"

The office went quiet.

Fergus was in no hurry to speak. He just slid a cup of warm water in front of me.

"Is he always like this?" he asked.

"Like what?"

"Deciding everything for you."

I held the cup, the warmth pressing into my fingertips.

"He just worries about me too much."

Even I heard how false it sounded coming out of my mouth.

Fergus didn't push.

He took out my chart.

"Tell me how you've been feeling lately. Anything at all."

I was silent for a long time.

All that churning feeling, all the humiliation and rage I'd forced down, rose up and nearly broke past my throat.

But I couldn't say any of it.

"I've been fine."

I heard myself say it in a flat, even tone.

"I've been taking my medication on schedule, listening to Eliana's audio every day."

"My sleep's improved a lot too."

Fergus lifted his head and looked at me.

His gaze was clear, like it could see straight through everything I was hiding.

"Elaine, you don't look as fine as you say you are."

"You're angry."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

My heart clenched.

For three years, everyone had told me to stay calm, to relax, to keep the negative feelings away.

He was the only one who named my anger, straight to the point.

"Anger is an emotion. It isn't your enemy."

Fergus's voice was gentle.

"Suppressing it is what makes you sick."

I couldn't hold it back anymore. The tears came without warning.

Not sobbing, just quiet tears, one after another, falling onto the back of my hand.

I didn't wipe them away.

Fergus didn't hand me a tissue either. He only watched me, quietly, giving me the space to let it out.

I don't know how long it took before I finally stopped.

"Better?" he asked.

I nodded, my voice hoarse.

"Yeah."

"Then let's talk about the marriage registration."

My head snapped up.

How did he know?

Fergus seemed to read my mind.

"Your boyfriend, just now, at the door. He told me. He said as long as I confirmed you were stable, the two of you would go register."

My heart sank.

So he'd try to buy off my doctor too.

"Will you?" I asked.

"Say what?"

"Say that I'm stable."

Fergus leaned back in his chair, hands folded.

"My diagnosis is based on my professional judgment alone. No one influences it."

"Elaine, do you want to register?"

He handed the question back to me again.

Did I?

I looked out at the gray, overcast sky, and suddenly I smiled.

"Yes."

"I want to see how long he can keep up the act."

Asher stepped up to me the moment I came out of the consultation room.

"How did it go? What did Dr. Henson say?"

He looked at me anxiously, then past me to Fergus.

Fergus's expression was calm.

"Miss Harding is in better shape than I expected."

"Her emotions need an outlet, not constant suppression."

Asher clearly didn't catch the second half. He only latched onto the first.

"So the marriage registration?"

He asked it carefully, testing.

Fergus glanced at me. I gave him a small nod.

"Professionally, I wouldn't advise a patient to make major decisions during this period."

"But if it's her own strong wish, and it gives her that sense of security, it could be a form of treatment."

The joy on Asher's face nearly spilled over.

He gripped my hand so hard it hurt.

"Elaine, did you hear that? We can get married!"

He seemed even happier than I was.

His delight was so real it made my skin crawl.

On the drive home, Asher kept planning our future.

"We'll go register on Monday. I've already had my assistant get all the paperwork ready."

"Once we've registered, we'll move. I've had my eye on a villa in the western hills lately, with a garden. You can plant whatever flowers you like."

"You've always wanted a cat, haven't you? Let's get one. A golden shorthair, how's that?"

Every word he said had once been my deepest longing.

Now it landed like a string of sharp slaps.

"Asher."

I cut him off.

"We can register. But I have one condition."

He was in a good mood and agreed without hesitation.

"Name it. One's nothing. Give me ten."

"I want you to transfer the house we live in now into my name."

The air in the car went silent at once.

The smile froze on Asher's face.

He'd bought that house outright before we were engaged. Best location, largest floor plan, the most valuable piece of property in his name.

"Elaine, what's this about?"

His tone had gone cold.

"Didn't you say the three years I spent with you were the best security you could have?"

I tilted my head and looked at him the way he'd looked at me.

"I still think a house is a little more reliable."

"Asher, are you unwilling?"

He drew in a deep breath, like he wanted to blow up but was forcing it down.

"It's not that I'm unwilling."

He pushed the words out through his teeth.

"I just think you're acting strange today."

"How am I strange?"

"You never used to bring these things up with me."

"Oh." I gave a flat little sound. "Probably because I was more seriously ill before."

That line successfully shut him up.

He was probably afraid that pushing me further would make me relapse.

The thing he feared most was me "having an episode."

Because the moment something happened to me, he and Eliana would be branded as the ones who drove me to it.

That was a bet he couldn't afford.

On Monday, we really did go to the county clerk's office.

Before we left, Eliana's call came through.

It was for Asher.

He walked out to the balcony to take it. The door didn't shut all the way, and I could hear Eliana's voice, thick with tears.

"Asher, are you really going to marry her?"

"You told me the one you love is me!"

"Eliana, calm down." Asher's voice dropped low. "This is only temporary. It's just a way to stall."

"Once she's completely stable, I'll divorce her."

"Trust me."

I sat on the sofa, looking at my pale face in the mirror, and slowly put on a layer of lipstick.

The bright red color, like blood.

Asher finished the call and came in, saw me, and paused.

"Elaine, you look beautiful today."

He came over, meaning to kiss me.

I raised my hand and pressed a nail painted bright red against his lips.

"Don't. You'll smudge the lipstick."

There were a lot of people at the county clerk's office.

We stood in line like the most ordinary couple.

For the photo, the photographer told us to smile happily.

Asher put his arm around my shoulder and flashed all eight teeth at the camera.

I was smiling too.

I just didn't know whether my smile looked as real to him as his did to me.

When we got the little red booklet, Asher let out a long breath.

He handed me the marriage certificate like he'd just completed some grueling task.

"Elaine, now you feel secure, don't you?"

I took the still-warm certificate and opened it.

In the photo, we were both smiling brightly.

I tucked the certificate into my bag and looked up at him.

"Asher, where's the property deed?"

Asher's face went darker than the bottom of a burnt pan.

"Elaine, do you really have to be like this?"

His voice carried undisguised anger and disgust.

"We just registered the marriage, and you're already asking me about the house?"

"Yes."

I nodded, smiling with perfect innocence.

"What else? Should I wait until the divorce to bring it up?"

"You"

He was too furious to speak, his chest heaving.

A few people nearby glanced our way, and in the end he cared too much about appearances to lose it. He forced the anger back down.

"The house gets transferred this afternoon."

He ground the words out through his teeth.

"There. Are you satisfied now?"

"Satisfied."

I hooked my arm through his, smiling like a flower in full bloom.

"Let's go home, husband."

That word, husband, made his whole body stiffen.

His eyes came to my face, tangled and searching, as if he were trying to read something out of me.

But I gave him nothing.

I was only a naive, greedy patient, drunk on the joy of being a newlywed.

That afternoon we went to the county property records office.

The paperwork went through without a hitch.

When the clerk placed the deed with my name printed on it into my hands, I saw the corner of Asher's mouth twitch, and he couldn't stop it.

I knew he was aching over it.

This place was worth thirty million.

And just like that, it was mine.

On the way home the air in the car was suffocating.

Asher said nothing, and drove fast.

I knew his patience had hit its limit.

Sure enough, the moment we stepped through the door, he couldn't keep the act up any longer.

He shoved me against the wall, his bloodshot eyes fixed on me.

"Elaine, what exactly are you trying to do?"

"When did you turn into this? So materialistic, so impossible to deal with!"

His grip was crushing, his fingers grinding into my wrist until it hurt.

"I'm impossible to deal with?"

I started to laugh, even as the tears fell on their own.

"Asher, put your hand on your heart and ask yourself. Which one of us is really impossible to deal with?"

"It's you! You're the one who told me you loved me while you were registering a marriage with another woman!"

"You're the one who coaxed me to take my pills while you prayed for me to get better fast, so I'd get out of the way for you and your true love!"

"You're the one who treated me like a fool, like a madwoman, someone you could toy with and lie to as you pleased!"

I threw every drop of the grievance and rage I'd been holding in for days into that shout, until there was nothing left in me.

Asher's expression went from shock, to panic, and finally to ashen white.

He let go of my hand and stepped back, staring at me like he didn't know who I was.

"You... you know everything?"

His voice was shaking.

"That's right. I know everything."

I wiped away the tears and closed in on him, step by step.

"At the elevators on the lower level of the downtown financial center mall. I heard all of it."

"Asher, do you think I'm hilarious?"

"Spun around in circles like a clown, by the two of you?"

He opened his mouth, wanting to explain something.

"Elaine, it isn't like that, just listen to me"

"Explain?"

I cut him off and pulled the two marriage certificates out of my bag.

One was mine and his.

The other was his and Eliana's.

That one I'd paid a private detective to get.

I flung the certificate that belonged to him and Eliana straight into his face.

"You want to explain this?"

"Explain when the two of you went behind my back?"

"Explain how you enjoyed my trust while treating me like the stone in your way?"

"Asher, you've committed bigamy. Do you understand that?"

He stared at the glaring red certificate on the floor, dumbstruck.

He probably never once imagined I could know it all this thoroughly.

"No... it's not possible..."

He mumbled to himself. "How could you..."

"How could I know?"

I gave a cold laugh.

"There's no wall in this world the wind can't get through."

"Asher, this whole show. Aren't you tired of acting it out?"

"Standing guard over a mental patient you never loved at all, fussing over her every day. Doesn't that make you feel so noble?"

"Doesn't it make you feel like some kind of savior?"

Every word I said was a knife, driving hard into his heart.

The color drained clean out of his face, his lips trembling, unable to force out a single word.

Outside the door, a key suddenly turned in the lock.