Queen Of Denial: 107: Running From My Shadow

I dreamed about Greg again last night. Why does my subconscious do that to me?

I still haven't changed out of my clothes from yesterday. Right now I just don't care.

Maybe reading will help.

I grab that same blasted romance novel off of the shelf and go to sit down. I misjudge the distance to the chair and land on the floor.

Defeated, I sit there and stare into space.

Xavier comes into the room with concern written all over his face. John's eyes look at me through his bangs. I miss John.

"Um, Mom? Are you okay?" he asks.

I just can't seem to bring myself to look at him. I can't look at John's eyes right now while I feel guilty about dreaming about Greg. Duchess comes into the room then as Xavier gets down on his knees and takes my hand, still trying to get my attention. Sweet, little Duchess can sense something's wrong.

"Mom?" he asks again and I decide I'd better say something before he freaks out.

"I missed the chair." I say simply.

"I see that." Good God, he reminds me so much of his father. "Want me to help you up?" he asks.

I don't need to worry him. He needs to eat breakfast and get ready for school. "No. I'll just sit on the floor. Doesn't matter anyway." Floor, chair, floor, chair... either way I'm sitting. The floor's not so bad. I doubt I could get into this novel anyway. That story is too close to home. The woman is feeling guilty for leaving her husband for that other man, and is starting to wonder who she really loves. Yeah. Too close to home.

The next thing I know, Xavier has his phone out and is calling Hugh, John's right-hand man. I groan with frustration. I really don't Mr. Hugh Psychology here right now. I just need to sit and think.

"... See you in a bit." I hear Xavier say.

Great. Just great. He's coming over.

He's going to think I've lost my mind. He's going to think I've finally cracked up. All it is is a little guilty/pity party. Just me sitting here going over my life in my head and how I've royally screwed it up. It's no real surprise about the abduction for that matter. I bet I asked for it somehow. Karma getting back at me. I sniff and realize tears are falling down my face. And then there's John. My guardian angel, my knight in shining armor, my champion, the one that loves me no matter all the awful things I do. I don't deserve him.

"Um, Mom? Do you want me to go get Uncle Jonah?" Xavier asks. He still hasn't left the room.

"NO!" I'm sure to answer real quick. Diós mio, that's the last thing I need. Marvelous. Let's just add Jonah to the list of mistakes. Don't know why I forgot that one. As recent as yesterday, but that's just the tip of the iceberg. Why does he have to kiss just like Greg? Why did he have to kiss me? Why did I have to kiss him back? John's brother for heaven's sake.

"Alright, alright. I won't. And Hugh's on his way." he says, sounding like he wants to help but doesn't know how.

"It doesn't matter! All I wanna do is sit here and cry. I'll be fine. Go eat breakfast." I say. He's not listening to me. Stubborn.

"Xavier, go eat breakfast. I tell you I'm fine." I say as I turn and rest my head on the cushion of the chair. I slide the book under it. The cushion feels nice. I'm sure to put my hand down under my eyes so I don't accidentally get mascara on it.

"No, that's okay. I'll stay here." Xavier says obstinately.

I groan in frustration again. This is the last thing I need is to have my son watching me have this minor breakdown. Duchess starts snoring nearby. I hear the front door open and close. Marie must've let Hugh in.

I open my eyes and see him sitting on the floor near me. I say, "I'm fine, Hugh. Just having a little meltdown. Nothing new. You don't have to be here." Really. You don't have to be here. You can't change the past so what's the point?

Hugh shrugs, "Well, I'm here now anyway, so I may as well hang out."

I close my eyes, wanting to block out the whole world. I wish that worked. The bus's horn sounds outside and I hear Xavier walk out of the room.

"Have you eaten this morning?" Hugh asks quietly.

"No. I got up, walked over to the bookshelf then went to sit down and missed. So then I figured what's the point?"

"Would you like for me to make you something to eat?"

"Nnno." I say, stressing the 'n'. "I'm just sitting here being tortured by all my mistakes. I'm not hungry."

"Your mistakes are torturing you? Why do you suppose that is?" he asks.

"Hugh, don't go all psychoanalytical on me." I warn and he merely smiles.

"Just trying to help. You look like you need help. Crime is at a standstill now with Laurie taken care of."

"I look like I need help. Hm." I put my back against the chair now. "Why do you suppose that is?" I ask, throwing his question back at him.

"Well, you look like you need help because you were curled up on the floor with your head on the cushion, crying, your voice is in a monotone, and Xavier was worried about you as well." he answers my question point blank.

"My memories are torturing me because I've lived a s---ty life. If there's a decision to be made, you can better believe I'll more than likely pick the wrong one. The only thing I've ever done right was marry John, and just you wait... I'll screw that up too eventually."

"I doubt that. John loves you too much for him to let that happen." he says reassuringly.

I work very hard to not cry again. My voice sounds terrible when I say, "I don't deserve that!"

"How on earth can you say you don't deserve that?!" he says like he thinks the idea is ridiculous.

"You don't know what I've done, Hugh. And then these dreams I keep having don't help at all." I see him about to ask me about them, so I interrupt before he can even try, "I keep dreaming about Greg. But those are the better ones in comparison to the ones about Laurie."

"Well, that's understandable. You were married to Greg for years, and he died before the two of you could resolve any issues you had. You had a very traumatic experience thanks to that Laurie. How does that make you not deserve to be happy with John? Because of some dreams?"

"Because of what I feel when I wake up. Well, the Greg dreams anyway." I whisper the next bit, "I miss him. Even if he would be annoying, I still miss him." My voice gets louder now, "So, yeah. I'm missing my dead ex-husband while being married to John who loves me unconditionally. Explain that, Freud." I wince. "Sorry."

He smiles a little. "It'd take more than that to get under my skin, Elena. And yes, I can. You loved him."

"He was wrong for me." I say simply.

"Maybe. Maybe not. If I remember correctly, you were given the chance to choose, and you chose John."

"I was mad at him still. I was literally about to choose him until that day I beat the crap out of Sylvia."

"Do you suppose that was providence guiding you in the right direction?" he asks, and I get quiet.

Hugh grunts a little as he moves to stand. "I don't know about you, Elena, but this floor is very uncomfortable to sit on for very long."

"I think there might be some coffee left. I'll be down there in a minute." I say almost randomly.

"You going to be down there in a minute if I go down there?" he asks, and I get mildly pissed at his cautious look.

"Yes. I just want to shower and change."

"Alright. Just don't go curling up on me again, k?"

"Fine. But if I did, it's no big deal anyway." I quip back at him.

I am getting so fat!!! Fat fat Fatty McFatfat I think as Hugh walks out of the room.

I get downstairs and see Hugh on the phone.

"That's great!" I hear him say before he says a few other things and then ends the call.

He goes and refills his mug before sitting at the table with me. "I assume you know John is on his way home."

"Yes, actually. I checked my phone before getting into the shower. He left me a message in the middle of the night last night. I can't wait to see him. It's been hell these past few days."

"You've missed him, of course." he states.

"That and I really do wonder if I'm going insane." I say and he works at not spitting coffee everywhere from the shock of what I just said. I inwardly preen that I shocked him.

He clears his throat. "Really?"

"You have to promise me you're not going to tell anyone." I almost whisper.

"You know I wouldn't do that."

"Not even John. If he's to know I want to be the one to tell him." I warn.

"Of course not."

"I'm seeing things. Them. I'm seeing them, like... their ghosts. Maybe I am cracking up."

"When was this?"

"The first time I thought it was just because it was my first day back at the bar. I saw Laurie sitting in one of the armchairs in front of my desk like he did this one time before. I thought it was just because I was a little creeped out to be there again, but I have to go in sometimes if I own the place. I want to. So, I stubbornly went back again yesterday. Then I had a horrible dream about him. Then I saw Greg after I... woke up."

He walks to the sink to put his mug in it then comes back and sit down. While he's up I'm sure he's thinking that yes, indeed I have lost my mind. I just know it. When he sits back down I ask him if he thinks I have.

"No, I don't. I think you may have some issues you need to resolve and this is the way your subconscious is telling you."

"But how in hell can I resolve them?"

"Well, for starters, how are you handling Greg's death?" he asks kindly.

"I'm... not really at all. I mean, I went to his grave and said goodbye, but even after that, I still have trouble accepting it really happened. I keep thinking, maybe hoping, he'll come knocking on the door and annoy me." A horrible stabbing pain suddenly goes through my stomach. "Like he did the last time I saw him. I told him to pretty much go away and leave me alone. Then he did." I don't like this. Pain. I don't like the pain. The guilt. I wish it would go away. I have to run from it.

I quickly stand up out of the chair and walk into the living room.

"What's up?" he asks.

"I don't want to talk about this." I straighten some of the couch cushions. Hugh gets up and follows me in there.

I flop down in one of the chairs. He walks over and sits in front of me.

"I can't talk about this, Hugh. Please don't make me." I say quickly.

"I can't make you do anything, Elena. But, I have to say, what has not talking about it gotten you?"

Damn you for making sense.

"I just can't! It hurts like awful!"

"It's not going to go away." he says quietly.

"No, but I can sure as hell ignore it."

"And that's why you're having these dreams. You can't ignore it." he mildly scolds me.

"I just can't do it right now. I know you're just trying to help, but I just can't." I say to the floor.

"So, then, what do you plan to do?" he asks quietly.

"I don't know. I just wish John was home. But how can I talk to him about this? Just the mere mention of Greg's name and he gets this look in his eyes." I pause for a moment and finally say, "I'll just try to take all this is small doses. Greg is dead. He's not coming back."

"That sounds like a good idea for you. Small doses. Just work on accepting it for now. And do the same when you think about what happened with Laurie." he says as I take a sharp intake of breath. "Accept that it happened, and that it wasn't your fault."

But it was... in a way. I didn't deal with how he felt soon enough.

Hugh continues, "Just like it's not your fault Greg is dead. Focus on those points: it happened but it's not your fault."

I just sit there and take deep breaths. I thought I'd let this go. I guess not.

"I need to take a nap." I say quietly.

"Alright. I'll go, but don't hesitate to call me again if you need someone to talk to." he says then shrugs and smiles. "It's not like I'm doing much lately."

"What happened to the bar tender in Bridgeport?" I ask, glad to talk about something else.

"She couldn't handle the long distance relationship. I'm not sure I could've either after a while."

"You're not moving there? I thought I remembered hearing that." I ask.

"No, I don't think so. Probably not anyway." he says as he makes his way to the door.