“I’m okay,” I croaked and reached for a drink.
“Here, let me.” She gave me the water and sat back down. “The hospital called me because I was down as your therapist. I can still see you, if you wish, but I would understand if you’d prefer to speak to someone else. I feel like I let you down, and for that, I’m sorry.”
Another one blaming themself, when this was all me. It was nothing to do with her at all, although I could see how she might think that.
“I took on too much too soon. I jumped into something with Killian that I wasn’t ready for. Nothing you said could have stopped this.”
“You have to give yourself grace and time, Harvey. Only then will you begin to see improvement. The doctor told me Killian had been around, but that he’d told him you weren’t ready to see visitors. I know you think he was the catalyst.”
“Indirectly, yes, but I need to get better before I see him again, no matter how long that takes.”
“I understand, and we’ll work together to make that happen.”
“So, what comes next? How long am I in here for?”
“There’s no time frame. It’s all up to you. The medication will help, but there’s no point rushing your recovery. There’ll never be a cure for mental health, Harvey. You know this.”
“I’ll be here forever, then.” While I didn’t feel like I wanted to kill myself again, the feeling of hopelessness prevailed. There was no light at the end of the tunnel.
“Look, Harvey. I have a friend in Ireland. He runs a retreat, and I think it’d be good for you to go there. A couple of my other patients in similar situations to yours have gone there, and it’s been life-changing for them. I can’t guarantee you’ll achieve the same results, but I think it’s worth a go.”
Ireland. Fucking typical.
“I’ll think about it.” I yawned, my eyes heavy.
“Sleep on it and let me know what you think. Don’t lose focus, Harvey. I’ll come see you again tomorrow.”
And with that, she was gone.
I did nothing but think about it for the next few days, and within a week, I was on my way to Ireland.
My life would never be the same again, I knew that, but maybe I could have a different life.
Part 2
Chapter 25
Killian
“Thank you and goodnight.” I took my final bow and left the stage to applause and demands for an encore. I’d already done one, but it was time to go.
My brow wet with sweat, I wiped it with the towel always waiting for me in the wings and took a swig from a chilled bottle of water.
I loved working in the smaller venues. Good job, really, because I’d never been popular enough to fill vast arenas.
My rise to fame had been short-lived. I’d released a couple of albums, did all the festivals as Sully suggested. I’d even taken to songwriting like a duck to water, but what I hadn’t done was become the hugely successful artist I’d wanted to be.
Not that I was complaining. I had enough money to get by. More than enough, really. Some smart investments, and I was set for life. I had some hardcore fans, mainly middle-aged women, but I wasn’t going to complain about that. At least I still could do what I loved, and that was singing.
“Great set.” My agent, Duncan, patted me on the back. “You blew them away as usual.”
“Thanks. I think my voice was going a little at the end.”
“I told you to rest it and use the vocal coach.”
“Fuck, Dunc, I’ve never used one and don’t intend to. My voice is what it’s always been and I’ll not change. I drink some honey and lemon tea before I go to sleep. Will that please you?”
“Hmm, I guess so.”