"I think I'm cured," I tell Dr. Russell. She shakes her head, almost too quickly.
"Isa," she starts, and I clench my jaw.
"I've told you, that's not how you pronounce my name." My voice is rough, and I don't recognize it. She looks taken aback, and a feeling of power courses through my body. "I'm okay now. I can stop the treatment."
"You haven't finished the full course. You agreed to be part of this study, and you cannot stop in the middle. You must finish the treatment for its effects to work," she explains. I bite back telling her that Peter has come back. She won't believe me. I don't like the way the treatments make me feel, and I no longer need to forget my husband. He's back, even if he's acting strange. He'll get better and so will I.
"I don't have to do anything I don't want to do," I say, standing up and grabbing my bag.
"Isa, you signed a contract. You're obligated-"
"It was nice meeting you, Dr. Russell. I wish you the best," I say, slamming the door behind me. No one tries to stop me as I leave.
It begins to rain on the drive home. Peter is still in bed, the same place I left him when I went to my appointment. "I'm home," I say. He blinks at me coldly.
"What do you want for dinner?" I wait a minute, then three. "Alright, I'll order pizza. Do you want pepperoni?" Pepperoni is his favorite topping, but he still says nothing. The anger I felt at Dr. Russell's office bubbles in my stomach. "I'll put anchovies on it for you." Peter hates anchovies, and he still says nothing.
"Peter! Please, just say something!" I beg, my voice cracking.
"Isa, I am exhausted. I came home for you, what more do you want from me?"
"What is that supposed to mean? You stopped calling. I thought you were dead! You know, it's been nine years and I still don't know what you do for a living, but I don't ask, and I trust you, but you always stay in contact with me when you go away. I'm scared, Peter, and I've been scared for years." My heart is practically beating out of my chest.
"I came home for you, Isa. That's all I can say. Please, just leave me alone." And with that, he turns back over and closes his eyes. I hide in the bathroom, ashamed, confused, and absolutely heartbroken. This is not my husband. He would never speak to me that way.
Something needs to be done. We are both fine, but we are not ourselves, and if Peter won't do anything to fix it, then I will.
YOU ARE READING
Home
Science FictionShe was starting to forget. Then he came back. This was a short story I wrote for my science fiction creative writing class this past semester! Hope you enjoy.
