Beers, Lies and Alibis (Warblers Point Series Book 2) by Meghan Quinn Page B
Authors: Meghan Quinn
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are on your husband’s insurance. I just thought…”
“Well, you thought wrong,” Neala said, cutting off the nosy little bitch.
Calmly, fire crotch removed her thick-rimmed glasses and set them on her lap, along with her notepad.
“Neala, does your husband know you are Bipolar?”
And there it was, the word Neala had come to despise. Ever since Phil the Quack diagnosed her, she felt like the word was following her around, taunting her. That word was the reason she didn’t want any more kids; she couldn’t fathom pushing her disease onto her children. It was the reason why she divorced Liam, so he wouldn’t have to deal with the highs and lows of her life, and it was the main reason she had accused Liam of cheating on her.
When she was manic, her mind went to a whole other world “regular” people never experienced. The endorphins running through her body were so uncontrollable, they sometimes turned on her, making her delusional and crazed. She knew, deep down in her heart, that Liam would never cheat on her; he was not that kind of guy. But in her mind, she saw Liam cheating on her, she saw him kissing Sophie the way he kissed her. She saw Liam fucking Sophie in their bed, the bed they bought together after they got married. The images were so real and vivid in her mind that she didn’t have a choice but to believe them, even though, in her heart, she knew they were wrong.
“Neala…”
“No,” Neala said as she sunk down in her chair. “He doesn’t and he’s not going to find out. It’s better if he moves on. I’m too much for him to handle. He is an amazing man and deserves to be with someone who will give him more children and not pass on their disease. It’s hard enough that my baby Catherine might be just like me.”
“Does that scare you?”
Neala wanted to flick fire crotch between the eyes for her dumbass question.
“Are you mental? Of course it scares me. Do you really think I want my daughter to live the life that I’m living? To live out such highs in her life that she becomes delusional, only to drop into a deep depression that is so unbearable, even taking a sip of water is too much to handle? Do you really think I want that for her? Well I don’t, but not a day in life goes by that I don’t swear at myself for putting her in such a position.”
“With the proper treatment, it is all manageable.”
Neala snorted out in laughter. “Okay, lady. Look around us. I’m in the fucking looney bin because my parents couldn’t deal with me. You call this manageable? I call this prison. I’m not allowed to shave my damn legs for fear I might try to slit my wrists. I’m not allowed to hold the ‘community’ iPad in my hands for fear that I might throw it at someone’s head. I’m allotted private time, technology time and group time like a damned invalid and you think this is manageable? Damn, you are just as nuts as the rest of us.”
The rest of their session didn’t go as well since, apparently, Neala was too insulting of the facility. Her negative attitude only brought her back to her room without “computer” time. They said it wasn’t punishment, but they were just giving her some time to cool down. Bullshit, it was all bullshit. Neala saw right through all of them. She’d pressed her luck with fire crotch and she was punished for it.
Stupid bitch.
***
Fiona finally arrived at the hospital mid-morning, thanks to the bad-weather detour and the three hour time change. She was way later then she wanted to be, but at least she was there. Booker had arranged for a car to pick her up from the airport and drive her to the hospital, which was incredibly sweet of him. She didn’t really want to think about Booker at the moment because it only brought up painful feelings.
Instead, she lifted her shoulders, put on her big girl pants and walked through the hospital doors. The receptionist was kind enough to give her directions to her
“Well, you thought wrong,” Neala said, cutting off the nosy little bitch.
Calmly, fire crotch removed her thick-rimmed glasses and set them on her lap, along with her notepad.
“Neala, does your husband know you are Bipolar?”
And there it was, the word Neala had come to despise. Ever since Phil the Quack diagnosed her, she felt like the word was following her around, taunting her. That word was the reason she didn’t want any more kids; she couldn’t fathom pushing her disease onto her children. It was the reason why she divorced Liam, so he wouldn’t have to deal with the highs and lows of her life, and it was the main reason she had accused Liam of cheating on her.
When she was manic, her mind went to a whole other world “regular” people never experienced. The endorphins running through her body were so uncontrollable, they sometimes turned on her, making her delusional and crazed. She knew, deep down in her heart, that Liam would never cheat on her; he was not that kind of guy. But in her mind, she saw Liam cheating on her, she saw him kissing Sophie the way he kissed her. She saw Liam fucking Sophie in their bed, the bed they bought together after they got married. The images were so real and vivid in her mind that she didn’t have a choice but to believe them, even though, in her heart, she knew they were wrong.
“Neala…”
“No,” Neala said as she sunk down in her chair. “He doesn’t and he’s not going to find out. It’s better if he moves on. I’m too much for him to handle. He is an amazing man and deserves to be with someone who will give him more children and not pass on their disease. It’s hard enough that my baby Catherine might be just like me.”
“Does that scare you?”
Neala wanted to flick fire crotch between the eyes for her dumbass question.
“Are you mental? Of course it scares me. Do you really think I want my daughter to live the life that I’m living? To live out such highs in her life that she becomes delusional, only to drop into a deep depression that is so unbearable, even taking a sip of water is too much to handle? Do you really think I want that for her? Well I don’t, but not a day in life goes by that I don’t swear at myself for putting her in such a position.”
“With the proper treatment, it is all manageable.”
Neala snorted out in laughter. “Okay, lady. Look around us. I’m in the fucking looney bin because my parents couldn’t deal with me. You call this manageable? I call this prison. I’m not allowed to shave my damn legs for fear I might try to slit my wrists. I’m not allowed to hold the ‘community’ iPad in my hands for fear that I might throw it at someone’s head. I’m allotted private time, technology time and group time like a damned invalid and you think this is manageable? Damn, you are just as nuts as the rest of us.”
The rest of their session didn’t go as well since, apparently, Neala was too insulting of the facility. Her negative attitude only brought her back to her room without “computer” time. They said it wasn’t punishment, but they were just giving her some time to cool down. Bullshit, it was all bullshit. Neala saw right through all of them. She’d pressed her luck with fire crotch and she was punished for it.
Stupid bitch.
***
Fiona finally arrived at the hospital mid-morning, thanks to the bad-weather detour and the three hour time change. She was way later then she wanted to be, but at least she was there. Booker had arranged for a car to pick her up from the airport and drive her to the hospital, which was incredibly sweet of him. She didn’t really want to think about Booker at the moment because it only brought up painful feelings.
Instead, she lifted her shoulders, put on her big girl pants and walked through the hospital doors. The receptionist was kind enough to give her directions to her
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