89. Survival of the Fittest
89. Survival of the Fittest
Emara Stone
“I turned my first love into lifelong hatred.” I admit.
“Ryan destroyed me when he left the country without telling me anything. I cried every night, checked my phone every single hour, waited and waited, until I accepted he is never coming back.” My voice crackles slightly as old wounds tear open again.
“I forced myself to hate him. I made sure I hated him enough to erase his memories. His brown eyes. His scent. His touch. I hate everything about him now. Even his existence.”
Xavier watches me keenly, my every expression, rise and fall of breaths, even my clenched fists. He notices all!
“Hate was the only way for survival.” I whisper, from the darkest part of my soul.
“I see.. Then no one understands Dakota better than you.” Dr. Lance comments, sipping his coffee.
My gaze lower to my hands as the brutal truth hit me like cold water.
I never thought this, but I did the exact same thing to Dakota, what Ryan did to me.
I used him to save my brother. I put him behind bars despite knowing he is innocent. I destroyed his career, his name, his job that he was most proud of.
And worst of all, I never cared what happened to him afterward. Just like Ryan never cared about me when he vanished to Germany.
I bite down on my lip so hard that I taste blood in my mouth, realising what a selfish bitch I was to Dakota!
And after everything I did to him, after all the pain and humiliation I have caused him, he is still here.
Still chasing me. Still confessing he loves me. Still begging for my forgiveness.
I slowly lift my gaze. Grey psycho analysing eyes quietly observe me, giving me space to feel my emotions, but with scrutiny.
“Is there any cure for Dakota?” I ask doctor, licking my broken lip.
“Emara.” Xavier releases a deep breath, leaning forward slowly, “Every intelligent person on this earth has a flaw.”
He finally keeps his cup down, continuing, “In fact, intelligence itself is a flaw. It is not completely a boon, because it comes with a curse.”
I stay quiet, listening him carefully.
“Einstein had severe anxiety and likely autism spectrum traits. While Elon has Asperger’s syndrome. Almost every genius in history had a mental disorder that made them extraordinary.” Dr. Lance explains to me.
“And the same goes with Dakota.” He leans back slightly, saying, “Because of the neurological fractured things wired in his brain, his hyper-focus, ability to solve complex problems, and capacity to create something have been dramatically heightened.”
Grey eyes glow with fascination as he mentions, “His brain’s neuroplasticity is almost supernatural.”
I blink at him, struggling to keep up as he continues rather excitedly.
“Emara, do you know.. A normal brain typically functions around 100-110 IQ.” He tells me as if I don’t know, which I really don’t know.
“What we call ‘Genius’ is usually a mental defect which leads the brain power to push over 160, 180, sometimes even 200 IQ.”
Xavier raises his tone, as if proving, “That’s why intelligence is a flaw. A beautiful mental fracture. That’s why it is so rare.”
Dr. Lance leans back on his sofa, looking directly into my eyes, “And people like him, Einstein, Musk.. Should be left alone for their creativity.”
“So, what’s the cure?” I stare at him in confusion.
Grey eyes slowly drift towards the glowing wall of aquariums, tracing the movement of fish with strange silence.
“Emara, did I tell you about my favorite fish?” He asks me calmly, pointing towards the tank in right corner.
“Bettas.”
My gaze follows his, and I see a striking blue and red fish with flowing fins gliding through the water like a living flame. There is another smaller fish in the corner, silver in colour shining like full moon in water.
“Bettas are an extremely dominant species. The males are highly territorial, fiercely aggressive, and strikingly beautiful. They are usually kept alone in a separate tank to assert dominance, or they devour the female.”
I watch them carefully, the fiery red chases the silver female alone, targeting its delicate fins, while it turns around with open mouth, flaring its gills aggressively at the other.
“Are they fighting? Is he trying to kill her?” My breath hitches sharply in my throat.
“If the female survives, then it’s mating.” The doctor replies in a disturbingly calm tone, “If not, then it is survival of the fittest.”
A sharp gasp escapes me as the red male violently slams his head into the female, tearing its silver, shimmering moonlight fins.
“Some species should be left alone to thrive.” Xavier pauses, his eyes meet mine quietly, controlled, “That is nature’s law.”
His gaze sharp like a sword, and words direct like a blade cut through me. I know he is not talking about fish, or nature.
“Can you stop playing with words and just speak clearly?” I demand with a straight face.
The doctor takes a deep breath, keeping his palm flat on the armrest and looking me dead in the eye, “You and I, we both know there is no cure for Dakota.”
My heart sinks as his words crash into me.
“Pills can help him temporarily, but the real problem lies in his brain.” He pauses, putting weight in his voice, “And you are messing with his head a lot.”
“Me?” I gasp in shock.
“Hmm.” Xavier stares with a hard look on his psychiatrist face, “I don’t want you to be around him. I believe you are a hindrance in between his intelligence and success.”
Wait.. What!
“His focus varies when you are in the picture.” He states in his clinic voice, “It’s better you leave him alone.”
“I am not holding him back!” I snap defensively, “He is the one who doesn’t want to leave me.”
“Because you keep giving him hope.” The psycho doctor quips, “That’s why he is still clinging to you.”
What the fuck!
“If you choose to get married, he won’t think about you.” Xavier suggests me wisely, “So if you truly want to help Dakota.. Get yourself a man and he will leave you.”
“What! I won’t go marry just anyone, so he can focus on his life.” I gasp at his bullshit, “That’s absurd!”
“No! What actually absurd is.. For every wrong thing he did to you.” His grey eyes sharpen as he states, “You still don’t hate him.”
I blink as his words hit me like a bucket of ice water.
“Tell me, Emara.. Why didn’t you leave him on the first night when he forced you? Why did you stay all those seven nights when you already got a clear trailer?”
My heart thuds loudly, thrashing against my ribs as the doctor narrows his eagle eyes, studying me intensely.
“You had your phone all the time, then why didn’t you call someone for help? You could have left easily, right?” He questions like something is wrong with me.
“I-I” My pulse spikes, and my brain chooses this exact moment to leave me right when I need the smartest answer.
“The reason I didn’t leave was because..” I gulp, forcing the words out, “I made the deal with him. And I was feeling guilty for what I had done to him.”
Dr. Lance slowly leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and analysing me with that cold, clinical intensity only a true psychopath could master.
“Hmm.” He thinks deeply, “So, if I make a deal with you right now..”
I see a dark glint in his grey eyes as they slowly trail down to my parted lips, and heaving chest as he whispers raspily,
“Will you stay with me, and let me do anything to you for seven nights?”