“Oh, Jodi. I hate seeing you like this. I wish you’d come and stay with me for a while.”
“I’m starting to regret giving you a key,” I grumble. “And I can’t go back. I’m trying to move forward.”
“I know you are, but you have a stack of red bills piling up. I don’t think you’ll be able to keep this place.”
“Urgh, it’s nothing to worry about. It hasn’t been long. I’ll figure out a way to pay them.”
“I’ve got half a mind to speak to Brock about it. He left you in this mess, firing you like that.”
“Yeah, well, he seems to think I cheated on him, doesn’t he? And he won’t talk to me now.”
“Have you tried to speak with him? Maybe he’s calmed down now. He must have had time—”
“No. I’ve been calling him and messaging him. I even emailed him to explain my side of the story, but he doesn’t want to get back in touch. He could be ignoring me for all I know. In fact, I’m sure he is.”
“Does he know that Lucas has been arrested and won’t be bothering you again?”
“I told him about the drug use and petty crime, but it isn’t enough.”
The one good thing to come from Lucas’s random arrest is that I found out his addiction isn’t to me. There isn’t something fundamentally odd about me . . . it’s drugs. He wanted the money for drugs, and the other stuff was just bullshit. I needn’t have been worried. He was likely strung out when he saw me, desperate for another fix. I believe the gambling is still an issue for him too, but hopefully all of that will be dealt with while he’s in jail. I have no doubt that he’ll be locked away for a long while, during which time I do hope he gets therapy. Poor Lucas just needs help. He’s never recovered from losing his parents, and I hope this is the time.
Maybe there will be a time when I find out, but probably not. I don’t think it’s wise for me to be anywhere near him ever again. It just seems to spell all kinds of trouble.
“That’s weird. I don’t understand. Things were so good between you before. It seems odd to throw it away like that. I thought he was a reasonable man, that he would at least hear you out.”
“But I told you what happened with his ex-wife, didn’t I? I suppose he’s just so afraid of being cheated on.”
“But that’s not what happened. You need to make him see that. Go and see him. Make him understand.”
“I can’t. He said he doesn’t want to see me again, and I really think he meant it. If he didn’t, he would have at least answered once out of all the times I’ve tried to call him.”
“And you don’t think a face-to-face conversation will change that?”
I shake my head while I try to push myself into a standing position. I suppose I should try and make Millie a drink, be something of a good host. Most of the time when she’s here, I just lie on the couch, deflated.
“I just need to keep moving on, that’s all. Find a way to recover from the heartbreak.”
“I haven’t ever seen you like this, Jodi. This is worse than when you first arrived in Vegas.”
“I know, but that’s because I love Brock. I haven’t ever felt like this for anyone else. It’s too much losing him. It’s making me feel sick.” I sigh loudly. “But since I can’t change it, I have to just carry on.”
“What do you think you’re going to do? Start with getting a job? Maybe tidy this place up a bit . . .”
I don’t know what’s stopping me, but I can’t imagine myself in any other job. The idea of having another person for a boss and trying to be the best employee I can for him is too much to bear. Never mind the thought of actually cleaning up my house. That’s something I’ll have to think about another day.
“I will. I know that I need to. I’m just stuck at the moment. I feel frozen. I want to move on and do something positive—I know that’s what I need to do—but I can’t seem to make it happen.”
“I suppose the one good thing is that at least you won’t have Lucas coming after you for more money. You finally got rid of that nightmare. Too late for my liking, but there you go. It is what it is.”
My arm aches as I try to lift it to switch on the coffee machine. Everything is like this at the moment—all movements are painful and sluggish, like my body doesn’t want to move at all.
“I know. You did warn me. You even messaged him to stop it, but I got sucked in again.”
“You’re too nice, believing too many stories he spins your way. I know the guy went through a troublesome time, but it’s his own responsibility. Things could be so different if you’d taken my advice.”
Her words rocket through me like a spaceship, and I lean forward to clutch my stomach. Without me even realizing it until it splashes beneath me, vomit flies out of my mouth, burning my throat as it goes. I’ve been a bit like this recently, throwing up at random times, and it seems to come every time I’m sad.
This breakup with Brock is actually making me ill. I don’t know if I’m going to survive it.