Friday evening found James sitting in his home office, scrolling through his phone contacts until he found Dr. Carmen Martinez's number. He had called her before when Victoria fainted, and she had prescribed the medications that Victoria was supposed to be taking. Now he needed answers about Victoria's condition, and he had been contemplating making this call for the better part of an hour.
Victoria was currently occupying his couch, having draped herself across it like a living blanket while he attempted to work. Every few minutes, she would make some small noise; a sigh, a shift in position, the rustle of pages as she pretended to read a magazine, each sound designed to remind him of her presence as if he could possibly forget.
The past week had been a masterclass in psychological warfare disguised as dependency. Victoria's need for constant physical contact had evolved from concerning to suffocating, and James found himself questioning whether this was genuine illness or elaborate manipulation. The line between the two had become so blurred that he no longer trusted his own judgment.
With a deep breath, James dialed the number.
"Dr. Martinez speaking," came a crisp, professional voice after the second ring.
"Doctor, this is James Mitchell. I'm calling about Victoria Sharp. She's been...with me since her recent fever, and I need to understand what's happening to her."
There was a pause, and James could hear the sound of papers shuffling. "James, there's something...you deserve to know this after all Victoria mentioned you extensively during her sessions. I should note that doctor-patient confidentiality prevents me from discussing specific details, but I can share general information about her condition based on what I've learned from her therapist, Mary Silas, if it helps with her care."
"Please," James said, rubbing his temples as Victoria's laugh drifted in from the living room. "I'm at my wit's end here. She won't leave my side for more than a few minutes. She follows me everywhere, refuses to go home, and insists on doing things together. Is this... is this normal for someone recovering from fever?"
Dr. Martinez's voice took on a more sympathetic tone. "What you're describing sounds consistent with separation intolerance and dependency issues that can develop after severe emotional trauma. Think of it this way, Mr. Mitchell, when someone becomes the absolute center of a person's emotional world, losing them or even the fear of losing them can trigger responses that go far beyond normal grief or attachment."
James leaned back in his chair, processing this information. "What do you mean by 'go far beyond normal'?"
"The body and mind are essentially in a state of withdrawal," Dr. Martinez explained. "Similar to what you might see with substance dependency, but instead of being dependent on a drug, the person becomes dependent on another human being for their emotional equilibrium. Without that person's presence, they can experience physical symptoms; nausea, trembling, panic attacks, insomnia. Their nervous system goes into crisis mode."
The description hit James like a physical blow. It perfectly aligned with every behavior he'd witnessed from Victoria, the desperate clinging, the inability to be apart, the way she seemed to physically relax only when touching him.
"Doctor," James said quietly, "am I... am I making this worse by allowing it? Should I be setting firmer boundaries?"
"Mr. Mitchell," Dr. Martinez's voice became earnest, almost pleading, "I need you to understand something. From everything Victoria has told, you are quite literally her world right now. Her entire sense of safety and stability is centered on your presence. I'm not asking you to enable unhealthy behavior, but I am asking for your patience. Healing from this level of emotional dependency takes time, and forcing sudden separation could cause a severe psychological setback."
James felt the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders like a lead blanket. "How long are we talking about, Doctor? Weeks? Months?"
"It varies by individual, but typically several months with proper treatment and gradual boundary establishment. The key is helping her develop other sources of emotional security while maintaining enough contact to prevent panic responses."
"Thank you, Doctor," James said, though he felt anything but grateful for the information. "I appreciate your time."
"Ah James?" Dr. Martinez's voice stopped him before he could end the call. "I know this is difficult, but what you're doing... it matters more than you know. Thank you for being patient with her."
James ended the call and sat in silence, staring at the phone. He truly felt bad for Victoria, the medical explanation transformed her behavior from manipulative to genuinely pathological. But what about him? What about his needs, his sanity, his right to live his own life?
Seeing her every day, living with Victoria, hurts him deeply and also fills the empty spaces in his heart in ways he didn't want to acknowledge. It felt like the times when they were together and happy, when the world made sense and his apartment didn't echo with loneliness. But now it seemed like he had somehow messed up her life, and everyone, Dr. Martinez, his own conscience, Victoria herself, expected him to fix it. Everyone was concerned about Victoria, but what about him and his wants? What about his need for space, to heal and move on, for autonomy, for the right to move through his own home without a shadow attached?
He sighed heavily and walked back to the living room, where Victoria immediately perked up at his approach. She was curled on his couch wearing one of his old sweatshirts, her legs tucked under her as she watched him with the focused attention of someone whose entire world had just walked into the room.
"Victoria," he said, settling into his armchair instead of joining her on the couch. "I need to ask you about your condition."
She shifted, angling her body toward him with a slight frown. "What about it?"
"The separation thing. The dependency issues. Is what Dr. Martinez told me accurate?"
Victoria's expression grew serious as she nodded slowly. "What the doctor said was true," she admitted. "The thought of being away from you... it's not just uncomfortable, James. It's physically painful. Like something vital is being torn away."
James studied her face, looking for any sign of deception, but found only honesty. "And the touching?" he asked. "Your need to constantly have physical contact, is that part of the medical condition too?"
Victoria's lips curved into a knowing smile that transformed her entire expression. "Ah," she said, her voice taking on a teasing quality. "That's where things get interesting."
"What do you mean?"
"Well," Victoria said, stretching languidly before pulling her legs up to her chest, "at first, it was purely medical. Touching you was the only way I could satisfy myself that you were real, that you were there. It was like... a security blanket, I suppose."