Destined to Feel by Indigo Bloome

ensure I was reunited with my children, my world. But now, who do I trust in this environment? What hasn’t Jeremy told me? I don’t even know exactly who knows I am missing — maybe Jeremy is keeping that information to himself as well…
    I abruptly halt that train of thought, knowing it is getting me nowhere and has the potential to unravel me entirely. Professional and businesslike is my new mantra. No time for threatening emotions. You have survived exceptionally well in the business world before, Alexa, I say firmly to myself, and that is all this needs to be. If you play your cards right, you’ll be out of here in a few days time, just as Madame said. Hopefully…if you can trust her…
    I scrunch my fists into a tight ball in an attempt to marshal my strength of mind before stripping myself out of this ludicrous dress. I open my suitcase and staring up at me is my newly acquired very slinky negligee, which was reserved especially for meeting Jeremy. Now I wish I still had my other bag with my British Airways pyjamas! I decide to opt for the only truly casual clothes I have packed and slop on my gym pants, comfy bra and a T-shirt. If Madame Goldy wants to negotiate, then that is exactly what we will do. I determinedly settle myself at the small desk, not knowing what I will find inside the dossier labelled: ‘Dr Alexandra Blake — Private
    & Confidential’.
    To say that I’m shocked is an understatement. It appears that Jeremy has indeed presented to the International Scientific Advisory Board on depression, bipolar disorder and related conditions.
    In doing so, he has referenced results on a live pre-menopausal, Anglo-Saxon female with type AB blood grouping …yes, that would be me, how convenient. The results identified the missing element in the hormonal comparisons of realising natural serotonin without the harsh side effects of existing drugs and returning all chemical balance to the brain to normal ranges within three to five days.
    I’m pleased he thinks I have ‘returned to normal’ because I certainly feel anything but normal given I’ve been experiencing ‘episodes’ ever since then, which he knows nothing about because he has been too busy spouting forth about his results instead of tapping back into his clinical research. Shit, what has he done? Why, Jeremy? Why didn’t you tell me you were going to do this…you didn’t mention a word about it during our recent chats. Why are you still keeping me in the dark? There is so much more I need to talk to you about.
    Today we aim to submit a comprehensive funding proposal to approve the testing of up to 100 females of AB blood type. Anglo-Saxon and pre-menopausal are prerequisites for testing of these subjects in clinical environments; half will have been previously diagnosed medically with some form of relational depression and the other half will never have experienced diagnosed depression. They will undergo a series of tests and be administered drugs in relation to placebo…
    Why the hell hasn’t he mentioned this to me? Where is he conducting these tests? How will he secure these women? Is he going to subject these women to the same experience as he did me? Did it all mean nothing to him? I feel blood pounding through my veins in fury as I continue to read through these documents. Please don’t let Madame Goldy be correct. How the hell could he have neglected to tell me anything about this? Did he give me other drugs during our time together, drugs I didn’t know about? Heaven knows he could have, and it may more appropriately explain these damn ‘episodes’. He said he gave me a sedative after my experience and I woke up somewhere he called Avalon, dazed and confused for what felt like days.
    Anything could have happened and I wouldn’t be any the wiser. Then there was the drip, the need for a catheter, and blacking out again. Oh, dear god, could I have been that naive? Did I trust him so implicitly that I didn’t even think to ask