Trapped

Chapter 43: AFTER

Chapter Forty Three:

A favor to ask.

—

IT’S BEEN A day since I last saw Warren.

The memory is still fresh in my head as I witnessed him in that kind of state—tears streamed down his cheeks, unsteady breathing, shaking hands, and aching heart. Or how his eyes glinted with agony… how he cried in torment. All of it was replaying in my head ever since we left Luciano Mansion.

Without a doubt, it made me want to run up to his tracks, and engulf him into a warm embrace—one that is full of love and yearning.

However, it isn’t something that can be easily arranged for.

In the eyes of other people, and even to my family, Maxwell hugging Warren—her younger sister’s boyfriend—isn’t something appropriate to see, much more so when I'm already pronounced dead.

All I could offer to him was nothing but an embrace not longer than a minute.

Warren is my rock, my pillar, and my whole world… or was. Even though I was residing in my sister’s vessel, my feelings never changed. He owned my heart, he owns it still, and it will forever remain that way.

I wanted to see him again… and maybe hug him for the second time around even just for a short period of time. Knowing that he’s devastated with my death, I wanted to do something in order to appease the pain he’s feeling. I wanted to be beside the man who was always there for me when I needed him… and this time, I knew that he badly needed me.

Tomorrow is a special day not just for me—but for us. On 27th of December marks our supposed third anniversary. If only I lived longer, I could’ve celebrated it with him.. and maybe I could’ve bid my farewell before I fully passed.

The world is cruel—or maybe the gods were.

Could it be due to the sheer fact that I turned my back on them? I used to believe that all divinities were real… I used to have faith. But everything had changed since that day. And more so, how could I rekindle my faith when my sister is dead and I’m living inside her body? I turned my back on them—for good. I don’t have a plan to restore that faith anymore.

“Mind sharing your thoughts, Max?” Sebastian’s voice jolted me out of my trance. I whipped my head to his direction, noting that he’s done with his morning routines and is just waiting for his work hours to begin. He tapped something on his wrist watch, probably looking over his schedule for today. “I know that look,” he added, striding closer then sat on the sofa across from me. “That look on your face clearly meant that you’re stressed. Why don’t you vent to me and release some tension that’s looming inside that head of yours?”

Looking at the man before me, clear concern morphed on his brooding face. His tan skin sparkled under the sun’s rays that infiltrated through the massive glass window in the living room. The gray roller blind were put up. Sebastian had a habit of keeping the entire place with as much natural light as possible to save some electricity—not that he doesn’t have means to pay for the bill, but because he’s doing his part to save the earth. According to him, it’s the least he could do since climate change is inevitable these days. He didn’t even seem to be bothered as the sun’s glare was casted on his well-sculptured face, but instead, he was more focused with tending to my worries.

Given by the look on his face, I somewhat couldn’t help but feel bad about what transpired back in the Luciano Mansion. Up until now, Sebastian wasn't mindful that I encountered Warren when I visited the room I used to share with Maxwell at the mansion… or even the fact that we comforted one another—crying into each other’s embrace. Sebastian didn’t need to know any of that. Even though it might not deem to be an intimate moment for Warren—it was a different case for me.

For I treasured every passing second that I shared with him during that night.

I’ve been silent for too long that Sebastian has noticed. “I thought you’re willing to share your emotions with me?” he released a soft sigh, his chest vibrating simultaneously due to the action. “Max, we’ve talked about this… right? We’ve agreed that whenever there’s something bothering you, you don’t even have to think twice and just tell it to me right away.”

Biting my lower lip, I stopped myself from muttering words that might pose harm. I only agreed because I didn’t want to completely cast him out after all that happened. I didn’t want to taint my sister’s name just for my own benefit. After all, I’m living in her body, eventually I have to start acting more like her.

“You know, just the usual.” The words were enough for Sebastian to understand. He’s smart for his own good, observant even. While I’m appreciative of him, I’m also cautious of his existence.

“The investigation is still ongoing. You don’t have to fret, Max. Everyone’s making sure that it's being handled well. Now, let us do our part in keeping you safe.”

“I know, we’ve talked about it. It will only endanger me if I delve deeper into the investigation. You already shed light to me in that aspect, but you must understand that my mind will continue to ponder about the case. It’s something that I fully don’t have control of, Seb.”

Sebastian nodded, acknowledging my words. “I do understand. I understand more than anyone. I saw how much you’ve suffered due to that incident. You’ve endured so much up to this day, and it’s something that you should be proud of. Rest assured, all of us are proud of you for still holding up.”

My heart swelled at his words.

Despite my family being vocal of how much they care for me, it is still a tug in the heart whenever I hear words of affirmation from them. It was my love language after all. While it is my strength, it is also my weakness.

Before I could mutter a response, a familiar voice resonated from the four corners of the house. “A meeting is scheduled with Mr. Vincent Woods at exactly eight in the morning, which is half an hour from now. Best be advised to get ready for the call, Sir Sebastian.” Athena, a voice-controlled personal assistant powered by artificial intelligence that my grandfather developed, chimed from the soundbar speaker mounted on the walls.

Sebastian heaved out a sigh before he responded. “Thank you, Athena. Kindly send the email to Mr. Vincent Woods for the conference call with the attached link in my drafts.”

Not a few seconds later, Athena replied. “The email has been sent, Sir Sebastian."

The notification halted our conversation. Sebastian offered me an apologetic look on his face which I immediately dismissed. For someone who works at a company as well, I know how important work can be.

“I need to get ready for this,” he breathed out. Of course, it was a formal meeting. Even though he’s remotely working, he still needed to be dressed appropriately especially for a video call with one of his clients. Sebastian still needed to wear a tuxedo and slacks to be professionally presented. “I apologize our conversation was cut short, Max. We can continue later on when I’m not bombarded with work. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to,” I was quick to intervene. “I have an appointment with Mrs. Mendoza. She’ll be here at 10, and we have a session until 12. Just focus on your work. We can eat lunch together,” I offered, wanting to let him be aware that there isn’t anything to worry about.

A ghost of a smile etched on his lips, “Thank you,” he whispered. And I assume it was because I finally agreed to resume consulting a psychiatrist, and attend therapy sessions for my mental health after being talked out of it during several occasions. “I wish you good luck, Max.”

“Good luck on your meeting as well,” I mentioned, reciprocating his message of kindness.

I’ve decided to seek a psychiatrist not because Sebastian asked for it, but mainly because my family wanted the same as well. All of them had been worried about my well being, and I couldn’t let them continually wallow in despair by making them worry more.

They made it clear to me that I shouldn’t have my doors closed to therapy.

And I’m doing this for them. I didn’t want to cause any more trouble. Moreover, I wanted to be better. Not just for them… but for my own sake as well.

.

.

.

“I’M GLAD TO be here, Ms. Quinn.”

Not long after, Doc Mendoza arrived at our residence. Since I’m still unable to leave the house whenever I please, she took the initiation to conduct the sessions personally. Of course, she was only paid to do her job, but still, I appreciate her effort.

“I couldn’t say the same,” I mumbled to myself, but enough for Patty Mendoza, my psychiatrist, to hear. The words were out even before I could filter them. I’m not usually one to be blunt to anyone, especially to someone I barely even knew. Although it seemed like it came out of reflex.

Even though the words came out rudely, Doc Mendoza seemed unfazed by it. Instead, she offered a smile in my direction. No hint of offense splattered on her face. “Continuing with the therapy is already a stepping stone on your part. I’ll do my best to help you along the way, Maxwell—would it be fine if I call you that?”

Noticing the sincerity in her tone, I nodded. “I’m fine with that.”

“You can refer to me as Patty if you want to be casual.”

I immediately shook my head sideways, “You didn’t study for years only to be referred to by your name whenever we’re at a session, that would be entirely rude of me, Doc.”

Doc Mendoza waved a dismissive hand. “Like what I’ve told you before, I want you to be comfortable with me whenever we would meet like this. Think of me as your friend whom you’re sharing your emotions and feelings with. Therapy shouldn’t scare you, instead, it should give you solace. Unburden yourself from all your worries, Maxwell. I’m here to listen without any judgment.”

Her words echoed in my head. Without judgment? The last time I told her about hearing angels talk to me, she told me that I was merely hallucinating. How can I be fully honest with her when she doesn’t even believe me?

I wanted to cooperate with her, but at the same time, I wanted to distance myself from her. No matter how much I tell myself that I’d be fine this session, my actions were beginning to betray me. And I could tell that Doc Mendoza noticed that as well. She studied people all her life. Of course, a single twitch of an eye, or jerk of a hand could entirely mean something in her perspective.

“Shall we start?” she commenced, gathering my attention. “You’re free to tell me anything you want. Your worries, your problems, and even your grief—but, only if you are comfortable with telling me. I won’t force you into anything that you are unwilling to share with me. I’m not that kind of a person.”

For a fraction of a second, I closed my eyes, then pictured my family.

I reminded myself that I’m doing this for them, and for me.

With that thought, I met Doc Mendoza’s eyes then nodded. “We can start.”

She withdrew a stylus pen and a tablet to scribble on during the session. I glanced at the clock in the living room. I need to put up with this for less than two hours. I hope I’m able to do that without a massive breakdown.

“How are you feeling lately, Maxwell?” she inquired, never breaking eye contact with me.

Just one question and I could feel my walls breaking already.

I harshly bit my lower lip, but I couldn’t feel the pain. My fingernails dug into my palms as I tried to steady my slowly shaking hands, and my ragged breath. My eyes were rapidly blinking, matching the erratic beat of my heart. With my actions alone, Doc Mendoza wrote something on her tablet which only intensified the brewing emotions inside me.

“You can take your time, Maxwell. We have plenty.” Doc Mendoza reassured me, a soft smile dancing along her lips as soon as she was done scribbling notes.

True to her words, she gave me the time I needed as I sorted my thoughts and my emotions. It wasn’t hard for me to openly be vocal about my feelings especially to my family, to Warren, to my sister, and even to Sebastian. But for some unknown reason, I was having a hard time opening up to my own psychiatrist. Maybe it was because I was afraid of what she’ll tell me. She’s a professional in this aspect, and I was anxious that the words that would come out of her might cause another wave of insecurity within me.

While I know that it wasn’t her intention to do so, I grew afraid that she wouldn’t believe anything I’ll say because she claimed that I was making up Angel Kaleigh in my mind.

Ten minutes passed without me uttering a single word.

If Doc Mendoza was bored, she showed no signs of it.

During those ten minutes, I was able to soothe my emotions. I was no longer having trouble breathing, or was my heart beating rapidly inside my rib cage. But the moment that she asks another question, all of that might come back in just a snap.

Maybe this was the reason why I didn’t want to resume therapy. Because I didn’t want to be fully controlled by my feelings that I have no control of… that I was scared of the mental breakdown—scared of the panic attack.

Breaking the silence, Doc Mendoza muttered, “Most clients or patients have a hard time sharing their emotions during the first week of the session. But as time passed by, it’ll be easier. Let your mind and heart be at ease. This is a safe space for you and your thoughts, Maxwell,” she mentioned. “I’ll change the question if that was hard for you to answer. Is there something bothering you these days?”

I nodded, this time without shuddering. “The ongoing investigation of the accident still crossed my mind from time to time.”

“What are you worried about in regards to the investigation?”

“That the suspect wouldn’t be punished,” I answered almost promptly. Tipping my head to the side, I added. “You might be aware of the fact that someone claimed that the accident wasn’t really an accident. Someone hired a man to have me and my sister be slaughtered. Whoever is behind this, I want them to pay for what they did.”

“I do understand where you’re coming from, Maxwell. But wouldn’t it be better to let the investigators do all the work? I’m sure your family hired skilled people to do the job.”

“I’ll only rest until the rightful culprit is put behind bars.”

Doc Mendoza nodded. “And I do hope the same,” she paused before continuing. “Do you notice anything different from you? You still can’t recall what happened before the… car crash?” she queried, changing the topic.

“No matter how hard I try to remember, it’s all blank.”

“Oh, Maxwell. You shouldn’t stress yourself so much about it. I’m sure those memories will naturally come back to you.”

The session flew by as quickly as I thought. Doc Mendoza made it easier for me to casually converse with her as if she’s really a friend of mine, who's willing to hear stories from me. Unlike before, she didn’t make it seem like I was going crazy for all the emotions that I’ve thrown at her. Instead, she acknowledged them, telling me that all my emotions were valid. It made me feel seen… it made me excited for our next session.

“So how did it go with Doctor Mendoza?” Sebastian asked as he unpacked the food that we ordered. Due to our hectic schedule, neither one of us had time to spare to cook lunch. Hence, why we decided to have it delivered instead.

“It was actually alright,” I honestly answered.

“You didn’t expect that it would go well, did you?” He sat across from me as soon as he’s done setting up the dining table.

“Not even the tiniest bit.” The smell of the Japanese cuisine that we ordered invaded my nose, causing my stomach to rumble. We bursted into laughter for a moment then dug in with our lunch.

Taking this time to ask a favor to Sebastian, I didn’t even hesitate.

“Can I visit Chandria’s grave tomorrow?” My question was enough for Sebastian to grow rigid at his seat. “Up until now, I still haven’t visited her. It’s almost a month, Seb.” My lips quivered. “I want to go there tomorrow, and I know that I shouldn’t be saying this, but I’m not taking no for an answer.”

The only way I could see Warren again is if I visit my own grave. Tomorrow would be our third anniversary, and I’m sure as hell that he would want to spend the entire day at Chandria’s grave. Moreover, I’d do anything just so I could be with him during our special day tomorrow even for just a couple of hours.

Sebastian met my gaze, and with just one look, I know that he’s aware of my determination. “On one condition, I’m coming with you.”

His words caught me off guard.

For a minute, I was silent. There was no denying that I didn’t like his proposition. But what choice do I exactly have? There’s no way he’d let me venture off to the cemetery all by myself. Sebastian made it clear that my safety is his utmost priority.

Maybe I can talk to Warren privately even though Sebastian’s there.

— I could only hope.

“Deal.”