The Dream Pill (4 of 4)
Kevin confronts his wife and learns a secret.
seventeen
“Do you trust me?” I asked my wife when I found her on the couch in front of the TV. I ran our conversation through my head several times and decided the best route was to be totally honest with her, as I had always been.
“Sure, Honey.”
“Would you tell me anything?”
She studied me, a glint of interest in her eyes. “Perhaps not everything. We women have these little things we wouldn’t share with any man. Why?”
“But if it was something important?”
“Of course.”
“I have something to tell you,” I blurted out before I could second-guess myself.
“Would it take long? Because I have a nasty headache and want to go to bed early tonight.”
Would it take long? Not really. All I needed was one sentence: I had sex with another woman, but it was in a dream, so it didn’t count.
Ridiculous.
Even if I told her Diane was in a coma, I wasn’t sure that would help. What if Fiona started to shout? What if our discussion lasted the entire night? What if she decided I no longer was the reliable man she married all those years ago? What if…
“Honey? You okay?” She gave me a worried look.
“I’m all right. It shouldn’t take long. But let me get you something for your headache first. We should have some pills.”
“And a glass of red wine, please.”
“For a headache?”
“You know it helps me sometimes.”
I poured her a glass of wine, then ran upstairs to the medicine cabinet in search of ibuprofen, only to find that we had run out. Perhaps it was better to put off the conversation? No. I couldn’t be a coward forever. Arguments were good, weren’t they? They meant we were talking, and communication was vital in any relationship. Right?
I could drive to a store and get something for her headache or… search the bedside drawers, where Fiona sometimes kept her pills.
In our bedroom, I opened the top drawer and found a book she’d been reading for months, some earplugs she occasionally used to help her sleep… but nothing she could use for her headache.
I had better luck with the second drawer. I found what I was looking for—a few remaining ibuprofen pills. Then I delved deeper, and I had to remind myself to breathe.
In my hand, I held a familiar packet with a heart-shaped pill. Unlike the blue Dream Lover pill I used, this one was mostly pink.
So, Fiona used this too? Did it count as one of the ‘little things’ that a woman wouldn’t share with her man?
I rummaged through the drawer, discovering more packets—some empty, some still full. Then I snapped it shut, clutching one packet tightly in my fist, and ran downstairs.
Fiona had finished her first glass of wine and was pouring herself another. The bottle sat on the coffee table near her—she wasn’t too debilitated by her headache if she could rise and grab it.
“You found it?” she asked.
I clasped the pill even tighter. “I have.”
She glanced at me, concerned by my tone. “Can I have it?”
“Why?” I struggled for composure.
“’Cause I need it.” Her face drew tight.
“Am I not enough for you?”
Her eyes searched mine. Then she relaxed. “Oh, Honey…” She put her glass aside. “That’s a myth.”
“A myth?” I asked, confused.
“A misconception. You’ve possibly heard somewhere that climax can help with a headache. But it doesn’t work like this. It might help for a moment, but the headache would come back later. It could be even worse.”
I stared at her, perplexed. “What are you talking about?”
“What were you talking about?” She looked puzzled. “Weren’t you suggesting sex as a cure for my migraine?”
It was like an icy bucket of water thrown on me. I felt like laughing and crying at the same time. Fiona thought I wanted to give her an orgasm to cure her headache. Unbelievable. My body slumped, and I started to chuckle.
“Honey, are you okay?” she asked. “Do you want a hug or something?”
“Yes… I mean, I’m fine. I don’t need a hug. I’m great actually. Everything’s splendid. Honestly.” I gave a short, awkward laugh.
“And the pills? For my headache.”
“Oh, I’ve found some ibuprofen, but it’s old, so I have to drive to the store to get something.”
“That’s so sweet of you, but I think I’ll be alright. The wine helped. My headache is already better.” She stood up, picked up her cell phone, and checked the time. “Almost eleven. I have to go to bed.”
“Why?”
“Why what? Go to bed?” She walked closer and examined my face. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Yes.”
“I told you I needed to get to bed earlier this week.”
“Are you scared of being late?”
“Late for what?” She frowned.
For your next date in your dream, I wanted to say, but couldn’t. My instincts were telling me to end this absurd charade. But then I looked at her, and my resolve faded away. Was I ready to know why she had taken those pills? Would it make a difference if it had been a momentary impulse or something more profound? Was I free of blame? Especially after what had happened between me and Diane? I couldn’t hate Fiona for what she had done. Unless I was ready to hate myself. I couldn’t confront her. Not yet. But the cracks inside of me spread like a shockwave, tearing apart something that seemed to be so resilient while we were together.
“Late for work tomorrow, of course,” I gave her a reassuring smile. “You don’t want to oversleep.”
She blinked in confusion. “You’re right.”
“I’ll check if anything else is missing before I go out.”
“Out?”
“To get something for your headache. You might need it next time.”
“You’re a wonderful husband.”
I forced a grin and blew her a kiss. Then I ran upstairs to put the Dream Lover pill back in her drawer before she noticed it was gone.
A moment later, when I was examining the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for missing supplies, I felt her come up behind me.
“Anything else we need?” she asked.
“No, not really. I’ll grab some vitamins, too. We have to look after ourselves, right?”
“How thoughtful of you.”
I spun around and smiled at her. “Sweet dreams.” I kissed her goodnight.
Her eyebrows raised in surprise. “You’re acting weird tonight. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“Never better. Don’t wait up for me.”
“You know I fall asleep at once these days.”
“That I do.”
She squeezed my arm and left.
A few minutes later, I was in my car racing to the store where I got the pill last time. Fortunately, it was still open.
“Do you have more family or friends you keep the Dream Lover for?” I asked the same guy as before.
He grinned. “I’ve got a massive family. How many d’ya reckon you need?”
“Can I get a discount if I buy in bulk?”
eighteen
“It’s you again?” Diane’s voice sounded cold, but a twinkle in her eyes betrayed her true feelings. We were back in the same hotel room.
“Don’t act so surprised.” I advanced towards her. “I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t think of me.”
Her lips curled into an impish grin. “You know how it is. Someone tells you not to think of a pink elephant…”
“Am I a pink elephant to you now?”
“How’s your wife? Have you told her about us? Or have you come to your senses?”
“A bit of both.”
Two weeks had flown by since our last conversation, and a lot had happened. I was feeling hopeful and had some news to share, but I knew our conversation wouldn’t be easy.
I grasped her hands in mine. “I know you’re in a coma. I visited you at the hospital.”
She yanked her hands free and spun away.
“Don’t run away!” I raised my voice, anxious that she’d disappear.
“You promised,” she said without turning my way.
“I said I couldn’t promise you that. So, technically, I kept my word.”
“What do you want?” She faced me. “And what else have you learned?”
“Everything. That nurse filled me in.”
“Jack?”
I nodded.
Her head dipped briefly, then she looked up. “Are you satisfied now?”
“I know how to wake you up.”
“That’s impossible.” She looked away.
“My friend specializes in comatose patients. He said if you stopped taking the pills, you have an eighty percent chance of regaining consciousness. He knows of similar cases.”
“Eighty percent?”
“Give or take.”
“What if I don’t wake up?”
“If that’s the case, I guess you’ll be able to go back to your pills.”
“You guess?” She raised her eyebrow.
“There’s no guarantee. The pills keep your brain active. It was actually a good decision to give you these.”
She kept her gaze on me for a moment. “At least you’re honest.” She moved to the window, presumably to watch her beloved dragons.
“You don’t have to decide now,” I said.
“Oh, thank you. I’m so glad you considered asking my opinion.”
“It’s your life.”
She spun around and looked me square in the eye. “Exactly. And yet, here you are butting in!”
I hesitated, searching for the right words. “Do you really want to do this for the rest of your life? If you can even call it a life, that is.”
A spark lit up her eyes, turning them bright and fiery. “I’ve managed so far. I’m invincible here. Remember?” She waved her hand, and a minibar appeared from thin air. She poured herself a drink.
“You prefer living in a dream.”
“And what’s so terrible about that? I have all that I need.”
“For now. What if something happens? Suppose your sponsors change their minds?”
She blushed. “That’s none of your concern.”
“No, but I wish it were.”
“But why?” She stepped closer to me, her eyes searing mine. “Why do you care?”
“Because I want to be with you, Diane. In real life and in the dream.”
“And your wife?”
“I’ve filed for divorce.”
“Not because of me?”
I shook my head. “She cheated on me. I just found out.”
“You’ll substitute one woman for another. How convenient. But why do you assume that I’ll want you when I wake up? Maybe I’ll just go my own way.”
“You can do what you want. I won’t try to stop you. But you could get back to a normal life once again.”
“Or no life at all. You said eighty percent. And there’s no guarantee I’ll be able to come here ever again. I’d be stuck living as a plant forever.”
“They’d probably switch you off if there was no brain activity.”
She forced a laugh. “Your jokes still suck.”
I grabbed her arms. “Imagine it Diane. You could return to your work, do more research, even study this pill, if that’s what you want.”
“And stay with you?”
“For a start. We can’t know how we’d work out in real life.”
“You’re tempting me...”
“You’re the temptress here.” I grinned. “I’m nothing compared to you.”
She pulled me closer and kissed. I could sense her desperation in the way she held onto me.
“So?” I asked when we parted. “What’s your decision?” I held my breath.
“Do it. But if I die, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.”
nineteen
My first week, I was optimistic. I took a break from work and stayed in Diane’s room for most of my time, even though I knew it wasn’t rational. Eventually, the staff forced me back home to bathe and eat.
In the second week, I had less faith but still visited her daily, staying with her for hours.
When in the third week I started to accept the fact that this would be Diane’s reality for the foreseeable future, the doctor responsible for Diane called me.
“Look here.” She gestured to the new monitoring equipment beside her bed. “Her brain activity has changed since we last observed. I can’t promise anything, but I think she might be waking up.”
I beamed at the woman.
But it wasn’t until two days later that it happened. I must have drifted off when a soft voice stirred me awake.
Diane was struggling to keep her eyelids open, her gaze fixed on me.
“You…” she said weakly.
I leapt closer to her, my heart pounding. “You’re awake!”
“You...”
“Yes? What is it?”
“You look old,” she murmured.
“Old?” I chuckled.
“You looked better... in my dream.”
“Do you think you can get used to this version of me?”
She gave me a weak smile. “I’ll… regret it.”
“I’ll make sure you won’t.” I bent over and kissed her on her forehead. “Welcome to the real world.”
THE END