Play Doctor: Dream Machine Part 22

Maybe it was time to start opening up. It couldn't hurt any worse than it already did.

Her mother waited with patient silence for Rebecca to divulge the reason for her call. Pressuring her had never worked in the past. Little did her mother know, today differed from all the others in her life.

"I need to ask you something." She dragged a breath through the razor wire of her constricted chest. "I hope it doesn't upset you."

"Go ahead." Did she imagine the spark of encouragement and antic.i.p.ation in her mother's tone?

How much had Rebecca driven the solitary existence she'd led by calling her independence necessary for survival? Her whole world had warped in a matter of hours. She saw everything through a new lens.

"How could you love my father even after he betrayed you?" The question escaped before she could censor it.

A harsh inhalation, painful to hear, rushed through the speaker of her phone. After several calming breaths, her mother's voice wavered across the line.

"You've never understood, Becca. How could you? You're so much like him. So caught up in thinking you forget to feel. You've always seen me as weak."

Shame layered over the agony of loss rending her soul in two.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that as the accusation it sounded like." She suppressed another sob but tears ran hot down her cheek. "I-I need to know. Why can you love someone when they've hurt you so much? It's not fair, d.a.m.n it!"

Her mother sniffled on the other end of the line as Rebecca's contagious misery spread.

"Someone's broken your heart." Resentment spiked her mother's statement. The protective instincts she rarely displayed broke through the underlying tension of their conversation. "I wished you girls would never experience heartache. I thought you were safe, Becca. I didn't think you'd let anyone in."

The admission stung. Had she really become so cold? She wouldn't make that mistake again. She could reveal this much at least. "I'm afraid, Mom. What if I never get over him?"

"I can't promise you will, sweetheart. We both know it's not true. If he's really the one for you, no one will be able to replace him. I'm so sorry. I wish I could say otherwise."

"Is that why Joe left you? Did Elsa's dad know you didn't love him as much as you loved my dad?"

"What made you think he left me, Becca?" Her mother's soft question alerted her to the dangerous grounds she trod.

"I...I guess I just a.s.sumed. You were so depressed, then he stopped coming around." Rebecca's breathing hitched as she now understood the stinging impact such a separation could inflict.

"Maybe it's time I told you this story from the beginning. I was younger than you, just eighteen." Her mother's pause before her trembling exhalation broadcast the effort it cost her to share her experience with her suffering daughter.

She was stronger than Rebecca had given her credit for.

"You don't have to do this." By now, Rebecca's words slurred with her unabashed crying.

"I do. I want to. You know I was a dancer. Your father was an amazing producer. He had a natural eye for what would work, the kind of thing you can't teach. As struggling artists, we shared the same circle of friends. I knew him and b.u.mped into him from time to time. He would flirt with me and suggest we go out but I never accepted. I couldn't. Ever since I was a child, I often experienced periods where I felt lost, helpless and suffocated by despair for no reason. I didn't think anyone would want me."

Rebecca had to interject. "You suffer from depression, Mom. Lots of people do."

"I know, now. Then it seemed so confusing. Everything was going well but I still felt like my life could go to h.e.l.l at any minute. I worried constantly. I had trouble eating, and my dancing suffered. Your father saw me struggling and offered to help. He was so kind, so understanding. I had a crush on him from the first moment I met him but, during those dark times, I fell in love with him. I just didn't know how to show him. How to take the next step. He was so worldly, already on his way to the top, and he wouldn't pursue me after I'd turned him down so many times before. He acted like such a gentleman."

When her mother paused to gather her thoughts, Rebecca held her breath. She understood exactly how it felt to long for someone but believe they were unreachable.

"Then he got word the funding had come through for his production. The critics billed it a sure success on his credit alone. I was shocked when he came to me. Told me he wanted me for the show. And for himself. I was so wrapped up in myself, I hadn't realized how desperate he was. Until he suggested how wonderful it would be to work together and be lovers. How the show would benefit from our intimacy. He..."

"He conned you into sleeping with him!" Fury erupted from her, refusing to be contained.

"No, Becca. I would have slept with him regardless. Do you think me so naive?"

Again, the parallel stunned her silent.

"When I got pregnant, hormones amplified the depression until it became unbearable. Nothing he did could cheer me up. He grew frustrated, convinced my morose moods centered on the pregnancy and the interruption to my career. Nothing I said would dissuade him. I think he suffered from ma.s.sive guilt, thinking he'd pushed me into something that made me miserable. But it wasn't true..."

The story tapered off as her mother gathered the courage to finish the tale.

"We fell into a vicious cycle. His guilt, my depression and the terror swamping me as I watched him slip away. I'm not proud of this, Becca, but it got so bad I had to be hospitalized. He was horrified. Terrified he'd driven me to the edge. The two things I concentrated on to drive away the darkness were the life growing inside me and what it would be like when I could return to him. But, when I finally was released, all that remained in his apartment was a letter."

They cried together.

"He abandoned me when I needed him most because of his own doubts, and for that I've never forgiven him."

"B-but you still love him?"

"Love is a funny creature, Becca. Your father loved me. I know that to the bottom of my heart. And when you love someone, sometimes you do crazy things. Things you'd never consider otherwise. Things you think are for the best. This is how he came to make his silly proposition. I didn't care, because I loved him too. He only offered what I'd always wanted both professionally and personally. He loved me enough to leave his successful show and sacrifice our relationship when he thought he'd hurt me."

She sighed before continuing.

"And that's why I sent Joe away."

"What?" Surprise jolted Becca from her tears.

"Joe was a private investigator. I hired him to find your father. We worked together for nearly three years but couldn't trace him for long. Bits and pieces would trickle in over time. I developed a friendship with Joe. I was lonely. He's a good man. He loved me but I came to realize I couldn't return his feelings. It wasn't fair to let him sacrifice his happiness. Even after Elsa, he still searched for your father, knowing I'd never be whole without him. And how would I repay Joe if we were to find him? We both knew the answer to that. You see, Becca? Love makes people do irrational things. There is no logic in love."

"How do you know if it's love, not just someone taking advantage of you?"

"Your heart already understands or you wouldn't have called me. Can you live without this man of yours?

If not, you had better go find him and make things right. Convince him nothing else matters if you have each other. By whatever means necessary. If he owes you an apology, get one. Then make sure he knows what's in your soul. Show him so he never wants to leave the one place he'll always be cherished-no matter what stupid things he does-because he'll offer you the same shelter from your mistakes."

Her pulse pounded in her temples as she tried to digest the wisdom her mother imparted.

"Thank you." She meant it from the bottom of her heart. "I'm so sorry I didn't understand. I hope we can talk more...if you want, I mean."

"I'd like that very much. I'm sorry, too, Becca. I should have been stronger for you. I let you take on too much."

"We can't change the past. Let's look to the future."

Her mother's watery laugh lifted a weight off her conscience. "This guy has changed you. For the better.

I'm so d.a.m.n proud of you. Now give him h.e.l.l. And call me later."

"I will. I love you."

"I love you too, Becca."

She disconnected the phone with a sense of wonder. Her tears evaporated, leaving behind crystals of determination and a tiny helping of optimism. She blew her nose then ran through the surreal conversation she'd just had, trying to digest the implications of her mother's story.

Her cell phone, set on vibrate, rattled on the hardwood floor beside her. Was it her mother calling back?

Would she instruct Rebecca to ignore the dangerous hope she'd given her? Admit the total insanity of her advice?

She flipped it open, exposing the display. The buzz hadn't indicated a call but an incoming text message.

From Kurt. Her finger hovered over the delete key but her heart refused to allow it to drop. Instead, she displayed the simple communication.

Are you okay?

In a rush, she released the breath she hadn't realized she'd trapped in her chest. Why would he care if she hurt? He'd gotten what he wanted from her. Unless...what if her mother was right?

Her a.n.a.lytical mind engaged as she dissected the possible motivations for, and outcomes of, the experience she'd shared with Kurt. She pondered the quandary until her a.s.s went as numb as her heart had been from sitting on the plank flooring.

In the end, only one hypothesis was plausible.

Kurt loved her, too.

Now she had to prove it to him.

Suddenly, she had a new goal. Once she decided she wanted something, she would stop at nothing to have it. That much hadn't changed.

Chapter Twenty.

Luke sat at his sleek, modern desk in the high-rise building housing the board member's works.p.a.ce. His sharp secretary alerted him via a frantic intercom squawk to the young woman on a rampage headed toward his office, undeterred by instructions to wait in the lobby. He'd been expecting something like this for the last two days.

Putting aside the case review he'd been working on, he kicked back in the oversized desk chair, forcing himself to appear relaxed when his office door flew open. Becca turned then shut the door with a crisp shove, giving him a moment to admire her lush a.s.s in the form-fitting suit. Even more attractive when p.i.s.sed off and determined, she induced a rare twinge of jealousy.

Kurt was one lucky b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Although they'd discussed his best friend's plans for Becca, Luke had never recognized the full potential Kurt insisted lie beneath her composed exterior. He had to give it to Kurt on this one. He'd been right and then some. The woman who planted her feet before him now bore little resemblance to the intelligent but mousy apprentice Kurt had worked with the past few years.

Every time Luke had come to the office, Becca had acted polite, efficient and aloof. Now, the vibrant woman engaged in her surroundings. Emotion poured off her in waves as she stood-arms akimbo, legs spread-less than an inch in front of his gla.s.s and steel desk.

As he watched, wondering what kind of shoes she wore today, Becca slapped her palms onto the gleaming surface with a resounding crack. She leaned in closer, putting her cleavage right at eye level. He chalked up her dismissal of his blatant perusal of her lace-covered b.r.e.a.s.t.s as another sign of her renewed self-confidence. Luke couldn't help but grin at the ferocity of her intent. His already immense respect for her grew a little more.

"You knew."

"Knew what?"

"Don't play stupid, Luke. Kurt tested the Dream Machine on me before the start of the official study. He would have told you."

"No, he didn't." Luke called her bluff.

"So maybe you were innocent in the beginning but he must have confided in you at some point and you still let it happen."

"I meant, he didn't test the Dream Machine on you until the start of the trial. Not that he hadn't told me."

He'd faced some intimidating opponents as head of the board but her spectacular fury, and the veiled pain feeding the bonfire, knocked the wind out of him.

"Yeah, right. Then how did he set up the whole fiasco to mimic my fantasy? Is he psychic? I can a.s.sure you it was exact. I see the sordid details each time I close my eyes for more than a moment."

Her lids fluttered closed then she shifted, for the first time revealing a hint of weakness.

"Sit, Becca. There are some things we need to discuss since you're torturing Kurt by refusing to answer his calls. Do you know how many other times in our friendship I've had to stop by his house every few hours to make sure he hadn't drowned himself in Jack Daniels? None. And thank G.o.d, because he's a bear to deal with when he's p.i.s.sed off, devastated and drunk. I'm about to kick his a.s.s."

Regret washed across her features. A good sign. "I needed some time to think."

"I understand. We hurt you. For my part in it, I'm truly sorry, Becca. Please, sit."

She melted into his guest chair. He couldn't stand to witness her agony from his formal distance. Before he considered why, he rounded his desk then took the seat next to her, angling it until he faced her suffering head on.

Luke reached out to cradle her frozen hands in his. She didn't shy away from the gesture as he'd have expected. Instead, she raised her shimmering gaze to his, letting him drink in the liquid pain pooled there.

"Kurt did not test the Dream Machine on you without your knowledge." He reiterated. "Dr. James Wexford, recently fired from the cognitive psych division, did. The night you fell asleep at your desk before final exams."

"Oh my G.o.d." She flinched, her eyes squeezed shut for a moment before she shook her head as though to clear it.

"Do you remember?" Luke embraced his practiced calm to cover the rage. She'd gotten to him. The idea of someone violating the tiny spitfire infuriated him.

"A little. I thought I'd been having trouble telling dreams from reality because I was stressing out and skipping some sleep here and there. That night I had a nightmare about something attacking my neck. It-it startled me awake. But I was alone. I had a mark there for a day or so but I a.s.sumed a spider bite had jarred me from sleep."

He grimaced at her recollection. It was time to give her the truth. All of it. He hoped she didn't hate them afterward, no matter how much they deserved it. He longed to continue their budding friendship and he'd never seen Kurt so ravaged.

The other man had ruined his perfect attendance record by cancelling his appointments for the entire week.

"Kurt got called out to an emergency at the hospital. He tried to contact me but I...had my phone off. He pa.s.sed James in the campus parking garage and asked him to keep an eye on you since he didn't have the heart to wake you. Instead, James snooped around the laboratory. He'd always been jealous of Kurt. No one expected he was capable of something like this, though."

Her fingers trembled in his grasp but she urged him on. "Tell me. What happened?"

"James found the Dream Machine. He realized Kurt never intended to pursue a human trial. He thought he'd earn a little fame by going rogue, taking that first step without the sanction of the board. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d was in a hurry. He had to know Kurt would destroy him if he got caught. He used a roll of packing tape from the office supply cabinet to attach the diode to your neck then took a sample from your REM stages while Kurt was gone."

He had to hesitate to clear his throat. As the head of the board, the rest fell on him.

"Just say it."

"The next day, James brought the session recording to the board. Though we immediately reported him to the state, fired him from the university and pressed criminal charges, we couldn't deny the potential of Kurt's invention. Not to mention the perfect setup we had to test it. A one in a million opportunity. For the record, once Kurt found out about what James did, he decked the a.s.shole before I could pull him off to keep his a.s.s out of jail."

Luke's gaze shifted to the tips of his shoes. He wasn't proud of what they'd done.