“This isn’t your fault.”
Her words draw me back, and again I’m reminded of how well Jessica knows me. And again, there’s a strange comfort in that. It reminds me of how I feel when Alessandra looks out for me.
“It feels a hell of a lot like my fault,” I bark. As my emotions wash over me, I latch onto my anger and resentment that my best friend has to deal with this disorder. It’s easier to sit with anger than it is to sit with worry. I don’t make it a point to allow fear into my life, but it has always circled me when Jack refuses to take care of himself. Each time he descends into his hell, I worry a little more that this time may be the last. I can’t imagine a life without Jack in it, and that will always fuel me to keep pushing to find a way to help him through. Grasping onto my anger drives me forward. It lashes out at my fear and forces it to be quiet. Unfortunately, it means those around me suffer when I take it out on them.
Jessica sighs, knowing this place well. “You can snap and snarl all you like, but it won’t change the fact that Jack is in the hospital right now because he chose not to look after himself.”
I don’t want to continue discussing this. What I want is to call Lorelei and hear her voice. “Send me the flight info once you have it. And try not to seat me right near the toilets like you did on the last flight.”
“Yep, Asshole Saturday has arrived,” she mutters before hanging up.
She spares me the talking to about the fact she won’t have much choice about what seat I can get at this late stage, because it’s what we do. Well, it’s what she does. Jessica knows when to give me a little space to lose my cool. She’ll always come back and attempt to pull me into line, but it’s that five-second freedom she allows, albeit with some snark, that lets me get my frustration out and then begin to come back to my centre.
I make a note to send her coffee vouchers. And to do better. God knows she deserves that after all these years of putting up with me.
Focusing back on the task at hand, I finish packing and then call Lorelei. It’s way too early for this call, but I can’t stop myself. At this point, I need to speak to her like I need air.
My call goes to voicemail, so I try again. After three attempts, I leave a message for her to call me back. I then shower and dress, my mind a steady hum of thoughts about how to help Jack. By the time I’m dressed, I’ve decided I’ll stay in LA with him as long as he needs me. I’ve also decided to stop by and see Lorelei before I fly out. This couldn’t have come at a worse time for us, and I need to see her and speak with her before I leave. I need to make sure we’re okay or at least have a shot at being okay before I put any physical distance between us.
55
Lorelei
“Oh God,” I mutter as I wake up on Saturday morning. Slowly easing myself into a sitting position on Sienna’s couch, I wince. “Oh God, why did we drink so much?”
Sienna surprises me when she answers my question. I didn’t realise she was in the lounge room with me. “I blame you. If you hadn’t wanted to celebrate your decision to go and see Ashton today and sort things out with him, we wouldn’t be here feeling like we’re now living in hell.”
I squint my eyes in an attempt to see her. She’s sitting on the floor near the other couch across from me. Frowning, I ask, “Why are you on the floor?”
She shrugs. “I must have passed out here.”
As much as I try not to, because it hurts, I laugh. “We know how to party on a Friday night, huh?”
“Babe, you were the one partying. I was just along for the ride.” A grin slides across her face. “And you should drink more. You were hilarious last night, and when you dropped your phone in the toilet and scrambled to retrieve it, I just about peed myself laughing.”
I frown again. “I don’t remember doing that. Shit, is it okay?” I glance around looking for my phone, but I hardly have the energy for that, so I wait for Sienna’s reply.
She waves her hand in the direction of the kitchen. “I dumped it in some rice. Hopefully that did the trick. All I can say is thank fuck you hadn’t already used the toilet when you did it. No way would I have been touching it if you had.”
God, I need to go back to hardly drinking. There are fewer hangovers and fewer mishaps that way.
“I need a shower,” I say as I move very carefully off the lounge.
My effort to not stir my headache fails and a sharp jolt of pain hits me. When I place my hand to my head and squeeze my eyes shut, Sienna says, “I’m not sure standing in the shower is what you need right now. I’ll make you my best hangover cure, and maybe after that, you’ll be up for a shower.”
I sit back down and open my eyes to look at her. “What’s in this cure?”
She’s on her way to the kitchen when she calls back over her shoulder, “Secret things, but trust me, they work.”
I do trust her, for many reasons, the least not being that she’s had enough hangovers to know how to cure one. Sinking back against the couch, I wait for her and allow my mind to drift to Ashton. Sienna helped me work past my hesitation with our relationship, and I’m eager to call him and organise to see him today. I’m finally ready to let go of my fear and step completely into a future with him. However, my hangover needs to ease before I’ll call him, so maybe I’ll just send him a text first. Well, so long as my phone is working. That thought gets me off the couch and into the kitchen so I can check my phone.
Sienna is reading something intently on her phone when I join her. She doesn’t glance up but rather continues slowly scrolling and reading. Whatever it is, it’s got her full attention.
I locate my phone that she put in a container of rice, and try to switch it on. The screen remains blank, and after repeated attempts of desperately pressing the power button, I come to the conclusion it’s dead.
“Ugh. I’m going to have to get a new phone.”
Sienna finally looks at me, a pained expression on her face. “Sorry babe. That sucks.”