Autopsy of a Mind

Chapter 119: Another's Happiness



Chapter 119: Another's Happiness

We led her back into the room and she settled in my chair. I leaned against the wall and saw as Grace glanced towards her daughter with fright more than worry. 

"Carol, you can tell her what you want," Sebastian assured. 

Carol remained silent for a few seconds before her bell-like voice rang in the room. "Mom, I was like this from the beginning. I understand why you wanted to kill me. It would have made your life easier. I am sorry for killing those kids... I didn't know any other way." She paused. "Don't blame yourself, though. As I said, I was born with it." Though the words were heartfelt, the tone in which she said it was dead. She was not pretending to feel any emotions like she had done previously. She told it in a truthful manner. 

It was commendable.

Carol was taken out of the room soon after as Grace refused to reply. Once left alone, she cried profusely. We watched in the monitoring room as she broke down, her sobs loud. She grabbed at her hair, and it looked painful, as she cried. 

The guilt had worked and she was left a sobbing mess. We gave her an hour to feel it completely before going back inside. It took her a few minutes to open up but then she produced the contact information of every client of hers, the dates they came, and the sexual acts they liked to perform. She was very organized, hence, it was easy for us to take everything from her without a shred of doubt. 

She did not remember a man in a white shirt who Carol was close to or had spoken fondly of. She thought carefully but could come up with no one that would fit the bill. In the end, we were left with a long list to check on. And yes, it was a very long list.

- - - - -

We sat in the living room, looking through the names and contact information of the clients when Sebastian spoke up. "I heard that you tell people you are taken?"

"Did Nash tell you?" I asked, not surprised. Nash and Sebastian had been as thick as thieves since we started doing more hours in the station.

"He did. Are you sure you are giving yourself time, Evie? If you have changed your mind, just tell me now. I know that you want to talk about it, but you can't. That is why you are telling other people you are taken. I don't know if it is to repel me or give me a sign." He clenched his hands together. "That is why you manipulated the situation to put us together, right?"

"You think I am capable of manipulation?" I asked as I raised my brow. 

He laughed and said. "Don't say it like it is a bad thing. Your manipulative nature is something I love about you."

I sighed. "I suppose I should tell you then. You know what my concerns are, right?"

"That you are 'not right in the head'?" he thought furiously. 

I nodded. "You remember. It was difficult enough to say it the first time. I thought I would only marry or be in a relationship for the deepest love." 

Sebastian nodded in understanding. 

"Sometimes... I wonder if I am even capable of it."

Sebastian gasped in shock but got himself under control almost instantly. "Okay. I don't understand. Walk me through it."

"Among every person I know, male or female, I am the only one who has never even once become carried away with infatuation. Every single person I know has felt this longing for someone, but I have not. I sailed through my formative years without a twitch of infatuation."

Sebastian looked confused for a moment. "So you mean..."

"I'll say it plainly. I esteem you. I respect you. I like you. I prefer your company to others. But... My eyes burned with heat and I didn't bother to brush it away. "I don't know if I can love you. I just do not know if it is in me. You see, I am not right in the head."

Sebastian inched forward and grabbed my hand with one of his while the other pushed my chin up to look at him. "Let me be clear, Evie. The only thing wrong with that pretty head of yours is that it holds a face that I cannot look away from. I love that head and all it contents with enough force for both of us."

I startled at the strength of the statement and eventually smiled nervously. I had no idea what to say, though.

"But I will deprive you of..." I didn't know the exact word. 

"Let us be analytical about it, shall we?" he asked. 

I giggled, thinking I would have to be careful around him as he seemed to use his analysis and studies to make the argument go his own way. Yet, I nodded. 

"I know you would like to make a scale and I would do the same on any other occasion, but for this one, I will not do that. I will simply ask you this. Estimate, on whatever terms you like, your affection or infatuation or whatever you wish to call it, over your lifetime. Pick the apogee... you know what that is, right?" he asked suddenly, cutting himself off. 

I laughed openly since I couldn't imagine he thought I wouldn't know. It was the apex or highest point of a curve. I nodded, happy that he was using humor to make her less self-conscious. 

"So, when was the point in your life when you were closest to what you think a woman in love would feel for the man she loves? At what point was your infatuation at its highest level. You need not define the delta between that feeling and the goal, just tell me a point in time."

I frowned. "This isn't fair."

"I agree. But life rarely is. So, continue."

I groaned. "I suppose I must answer. The point is easy enough to find. It was a dozen words out of your mouth which can be loosely paraphrased that you love me... and will do so for a very long time."

Relentlessly, he continued. "All right. Let us put that feeling aside for a moment. Since, by your admission, I am as close as you have ever gotten to that feeling, I assume that you could easily estimate your feelings of adoration, respect, and etcetera at that moment in time."

I looked at him suspiciously. "I suppose?"

"Have any of that changed since then?"

I thought carefully and said, "To be honest, all of them have improved since then. My feelings for you have improved considerably."

Carefully, he continued. "Suppose we made a chart, with a line denoting the minimum level of each of those attributes that a couple should have to ensure a happy life, would you say that I meet the mark on all the other except your love for me?"

I wasn't going to answer too quickly, I told myself. "Well, I should ask you the same question. But yes, a strong yes. You meet and greatly exceed the minimum point. In almost every way, we are a perfect match."

He cupped my cheek. I felt the heat rise in them and my throat clenched. "To answer your question, you exceed every expectation on all axes. So, what are you afraid of? Let us get to the heart of the matter. What are you really afraid of?"

It was difficult to think when his hand held my cheek so lovingly. I finally looked him in the eye and decided to be honest. "I am afraid I will hurt you. I am afraid that I will never love you the way a woman should love her boyfriend. Your love is so obvious, so intense... I am afraid that I will destroy the best part of you. I am afraid we will find ourselves miserable. And it would be toxic and corrosive. It would destroy you." And it would destroy me. 

"Why, what do we have here, Evie? I am sure there is a saying about this." He thought for a second, remembering. "Love is the condition where another's happiness is more important than your own."

My jaw dropped open in surprise for a moment. I had never thought about it in that way. Everything I had read about love talked about it from the point of view of the character's feelings, not their concern for anyone else. It frankly felt somewhat selfish as it was usually described. Unselfish and consideration as part of love.

"You are a master of seeing through people's emotions, Evie. You do that for everyone you meet. You helped me communicate and understood me when no one was willing to. And therefore, I shall have to return the favor."

I stared at him for a moment. "What do you want? What is it that you really want?"

THIS CHAPTER UPLOAD FIRST AT NOVELBIN.COM


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.