“You can’t. You have to go to rehab. No one can deny you have an issue anymore. Not even you,” she said.
“I’m doing the fucking concert, Delia.”
“No, you’re not,” she said sternly. “You’re going to rehab, and I’m going back to being a regular remote personal assistant until I can get my degree completed.”
“So—you’re gonna quit on me. Just like that?” I said. But wasn’t that what I’d wanted all along?
“I was hired to do two things; keep you on schedule and help you start your journey to sobriety. I failed to do both of those things.”
“You didn’t fail shit. I heard you and Hank arguing, but I was the one who snuck out. It wasn’t your fault.”
Alcohol poisoning? Had I really drunk that much? I was usually so careful.
“I failed you, but I can do some good before I get out of here. I’ve already called a rehab facility in Nashville. They’re expecting you. Landon and Stone are on comfortable flights to their hometowns to spend some time with their families. This thing with you has really done them in,” Delia said.
“And you’re just going to walk away? Just like that?” I asked.
Delia looked at me with genuine sadness in her eyes.
“Goodbye, Drake,” she said. “And please take rehab seriously. If you do, it’ll get you on a good path.”
I tried to keep her hand within mine, but she slid too easily from my grasp. My eyes hooked onto her as she picked up her things, and I watched her walk out of the room, leaving me alone and cold in this fucking hospital bed with some dumbass gown on and a needle in my hand.
The pain in my chest was heavier than I’d ever felt it before, and I found myself wanting to drown the sensation in bourbon, even now. How fucking sick was I?
CHAPTER 18
Delia
“Hey, Delia. It’s me. Drake. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay. The hospital's transferring me back to Nashville for the rest of my seventy-two-hour hold. Then I’m off to the rehab facility. Figured you’re probably right. Anyway, gimme a call if you can.”
“Delia, it’s Drake. My calls are being monitored, but I figured I’d try you again. Got one more day on my hold, then I’m out and off to rehab. Hank’s escorting me there, but I was wondering if you’d come along, too. Landon and Stone are enjoying their families, and I don’t want them to see me like this.”
“Delia, come on. I don’t even know if you got home okay. Would ya tell someone? Please?”
Phone call after phone call poured in from the hospitals as Drake bounced around. The seventy-two-hour hold was mandatory within these types of situations. The hospital would automatically assume it was a suicide attempt in order to have time to coordinate his drop off with the rehab facility here in Nashville. He called me when he left New Orleans, he called me when he got back to Nashville, and he called me during his last day in the hospital.
Then, he called again. But this time, it was different.
“Please, Delia. I know you don’t wanna see me and I know you wanna put all this behind you. But I—I need to see you. And I don’t admit that often. Or ever. I don’t usually need people. I’m a mess, Miss Delia. A fine and proper mess. Just come to the hospital before they pick me up for this damn rehab place. Please?”
He was begging me to come see him one last time. And even though everything inside of me told me to delete the message and forget about all this nonsense, I couldn’t.
Maybe I’d been wrong about him after all. Maybe he did care. Or maybe he just needed a friend.
As I pieced myself together and headed for the hospital, I began to get excited for him. He was going into one of the finest rehabilitation centers in the state of Tennessee, and he would get the help he needed. He would have group therapy and one-on-one counseling sessions. He’d meet people who struggled with the same type of addiction he did. He would be in the presence of people who could help him find his way to a road of sobriety he could’ve never achieve
d on his own.
I walked through the halls of the hospital and came upon his room. There was a security guard standing outside of it, but the moment he saw me he nodded and moved to the side. I clutched my purse tightly as I drew in a deep breath, my nerves getting the best of me. My heart was thumping in my ears and I could feel the blood rushing through my veins.
I was nervous to see him.
I stepped into the room and found him sitting in a chair. The security guard closed the door behind me, making sure no one would come in after I’d entered. The sun was illuminating Drake’s outline, casting a healthy glow on his skin as he turned his head.
“Well I’ll be,” Drake said. “Wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“Can’t resist a begging man,” I said with a grin. “You look good.”