“Honey?” he whispers, “I have to know… were you trying to commit suicide? The press, they’re asking. I’m confused, I don’t know what to believe anymore.” Tears spill from his eyes. “Koppel’s people called, Barbara Walters’ agent left messages, what do I tell them?”

I can’t believe this crapola. Nicole might be letting herself off the hook by pushing the suicide spin, but I could have sworn my boyfriend, of all people for Chris’sake, knew me better. My blood pressure monitor beeps sharply but Brett doesn’t react. Everyone has gotten inured to these “anomalies,” as the doctors refer to my sudden spikes and dips.

“Arggh.” He pinches his eyes and pounds his fists into his head. “C’mon now, fella,” he admonishes himself. Taking a deep breath, he reaches up to my bedside table, pulls a Kleenex from the box, and blows his nose.

“Honey, I have a confession to make.”

Wait, what? Is he seeing someone? Has he already moved on? I steel myself.

“I-I’m thinking about seeing a shrink.”

If my jaw could drop it would be on the floor.

Brett Haney was raised by conservative Texans whose every other sentence contained the word “bootstraps.”

“Yep, that’s right. Me. Buck Haney. I mean, not forever but just to get…til you’re, you know, back on your feet.” He shakes his head and walks in circles around the room. “I keep going over and over it, Jackie. I swear I thought you were right behind me when I ran downstairs. I’ve replayed it a thousand times.” Brett rises, bends over me, and searches my open, vacant eyes.

He slides back to his knees and grips the sheets in his fists. “This is a nightmare.”

A shrink. Wow. Brett might have his insecurities, but he is by far the more stable one in our relationship. In the past, if he was upset, I was the only person he went to for comfort and then, rarely. It’s hard to picture my cowboy “processing feelings” with a therapist, but I hope he finds comfort there. Anywhere. Just as long as it’s not with Dani. Anyone but Nurse Dani.

“God, please help me to get through this,” he whispers. “Please help Jackie, God. She doesn’t deserve this.”

The jury is still out on that one. I wasn’t always the comatose angel I am today.