Heading home in a taxi, all I can think of is Alex. He's been locked up in a mad house for four good years, knowing fully well that he was okay. I couldn't believe it.

Flashback

"But I saw your meds, Alex. I saw your drugs in your bathroom."

"Prozac? Those meds, aren't for that, Natalie. Yes, probably they could be used to treat that but I'm not obsessed with you. That's not what they're for."

"I'm a bit confused, Alex. What were they for?" I ask, stunned and somewhat embarrassed.

"Depression. Depression, Natalie. I'd been going through a lot, before I met you, and I can understand why you...