My Husband Wants To Kill Me

Chapter 5 Too in Sync

Mark Sam, our marriage and emotional counselor, is renowned for his expertise, serving many of LA's elite.

At the therapy office door, Mark greeted me with a gentle hug and nodded at Eddy. "Take a seat. Let's start with you two discussing recent events."

Eddy succinctly described my recent bouts of excessive sleepiness, mood swings, and severe forgetfulness.

With a pen in hand, Mark jotted notes intermittently, his brow furrowing.

"Issy also..." Eddy hesitated, glancing at me. "She's been sleepwalking."

My eyes widened.

Eddy squeezed my hand reassuringly. "For the past two weeks, she's been getting up every night, wandering around the living room, oblivious even to my presence. I realized she was looking for water to drink. But when I placed a glass in the bedroom, she still came out to the living room. So, I started leaving a glass on the coffee table every night."

I pulled my hand away, not wanting him to feel the sweat in my palm.

Mark and Eddy exchanged a complex look.

I turned to Mark. "You knew about this?"

Mark hesitated for a second before nodding. "Eddy mentioned it, and he's worried. Without you coming in, it was hard to make a diagnosis. Sleepwalking can also be a stress response; it needs more observation. Thank God you finally decided to see me."

After a few more exchanges, Eddy left the room at Mark's gesture.

Mark swiveled his chair to face me directly, resting his elbows on his knees. I could smell a faint scent of cold wood on him.

"Now, Issy, tell me, how are you really feeling?"

With his back to the window and his face shadowed, I couldn't make out his expression while I was completely exposed to his scrutinizing gaze. For a moment, I felt like a rabbit with nowhere to hide on a sandy plain.

"Issy, Isabelle Dolce, it's me, Mark, your trusted friend for many years. I know what you've been through these past few months. Honestly, I think you've handled it well. You're brave and strong, and it's completely normal to experience some mental health fluctuations."

Mark's voice was soft and soothing, naturally flowing into my heart, compelling me to open up.

But something felt off. Was he implying that there was something wrong with my mental state?

I fidgeted with the hem of my skirt, biting my lip.

The room fell silent, save for the gentle ticking of the clock.

"Issy, you're safe here. No one will hurt you. You can share your feelings openly. You don't have to hide or wear a mask, okay? My job is to ensure that past traumas can't hurt you anymore."

God knew how much I wished for someone close to share the burden when facing the biggest trial of my life.

But logic told me that person wasn’t Mark.

Eddy was having an affair, and he was also the killer of my child! Could I tell Mark all this?

Could he help me distinguish reality from illusion? No, I had to figure it out myself.

Although I trust his professional integrity, what if Mark secretly informed Eddy? I wouldn't be able to seek the truth then.

I took a sip of water. "Just like Eddy said, I've been feeling foggy and weak. My memory was fading, and I often cried for no reason. I forget the simplest things, even sleepwalking."

I gave a sad smile, tears in my eyes. "Mark, start your assessment. I just want to know if I'm really going mad."

After the session, Eddy waited with me in the reception area while Mark discussed with another counselor in his office.

Finally, he handed me a document he had signed.

It read, "Severe depression and mild schizophrenia."

I must admit, seeing the diagnosis made my heart skip a beat, and even my facial muscles twitched. Eddy gripped my shoulders tightly.

Schizophrenia wasn't far from madness, and depression wasn't far from suicide.

Mark handed Eddy a white bottle and hugged me. "It's manageable with medication. Just take your pills regularly. I've explained everything to Eddy about your meals."

I nodded, my eyes reddening.

But as I turned to touch up my makeup, I caught a glimpse of Mark signaling Eddy with a gesture and mouthing words, their silent communication perfectly in sync.

Meeting my gaze, Mark gave a calming smile again, but it no longer had any effect on me.

How could I forget? My husband and my therapist were old friends!

No, I no longer trusted Mark's diagnosis. I had to act and prove Eddy's infidelity to invalidate any conclusion that I was insane.

But how could I gather evidence and track Eddy's whereabouts?

Should I install a tracker on his phone?

He always kept it with him, and I had no reason to hold onto his phone for long. Besides, I wasn't familiar with such tech.

Back home, I tossed and turned in bed, my body burning up until I finally drifted into a restless sleep.

I woke up close to noon again, Eddy wasn't home. I decided to go out, suddenly craving a croissant from Sorella Cafe.

As I opened the cafe's glass door, a gust of autumn air made me shiver, and a business card blew to my feet.

Driven by some unknown force, I picked it up. It read, "Holistic Detective Agency!"