“It wasn’t her fault that I—”
Kelly’s small hand lands on mine. “She handled it poorly. Every step of the way. She was supposed to fix it, and her choice was to ignore it in the hopes it would blow over.”
Trish huffs, shaking her head as she taps her phone against the table.
I fumble with how to express anything at all from what happened that night. “I wasn’t in the best mindset—”
“You shouldn’t have been. You paid people to protect you. And they failed you.”
Kelly adds in a whisper, “Even Kam.” When my eyes reach Kelly, riddled with shock that she’d talk about Trish’s brother like that, she’s quick to add, “It wasn’t his job and I don’t blame him. He was relying on the fixer. What the hell was her name?”
“Cynthia. I’m sure it was Cynthia,” Trish states slowly, and then adds, “Even Kam will tell you he made a mistake and he wishes he could take it back.”
“Given how easily you two are talking about this—”
“Yeah. We’ve talked about it behind your back, but only because we love you and we’re mad on your behalf. It’s not in the tabloids; cross my heart.”
“Kam did his job there,” Kelly chimes in.
“You should have your fucking phone is all we’re saying.” Trish’s statement is final. “And I’ve told Kam exactly how I feel about it.”
“It wasn’t just your phone. It was access to support you had all of your life. They snatched it away. What the fuck did they think would happen?” Kelly’s eyes brim with unshed tears and it doesn’t go unnoticed that everyone is speaking in whispers now.
“We need chocolate.”
“Could we?” Trish says while waving down the waitress, motioning to our drinks.
They’re quiet, and in that moment, I remember that night, like it happened just yesterday.
“If she can’t stop going off, what else is there to do?”
She wants me to keep asking them for space. Just ask for space, as if they would listen.
Kam’s spoken up for me, but he’s nervous. He hasn’t been this nervous since… well since everything with my father. “You don’t know her. She doesn’t want space.”
It’s like I’m a child again, scolded, scared, and watching them fight through a cracked door. I can’t even bring myself to move to the bed. Instead I stay on the floor, staring at my hands that won’t stop shaking.
“You’re supposed to fix this!”
“She can’t do what she’s told,” Cynthia says and she doesn’t bother to hide her irritation. “She’s not supposed to comment.”
“They shouldn’t be there for her to comment on.”
“Kam, I just need it back.” My fingers are still shaking. I call out from my bedroom, not leaving where I am. “Kelly just messaged and she said—”
“Okay baby, but not right now.” He brushes me off … like a child. Like I’m something that can be handled.
I stress, “Kam, I want to look at his picture again and—”
He cuts me off, not even listening. “I just need a moment.”
We practically speak over one another as I plead for it back. “I won’t comment. I swear. It’s just they tagged me. They keep posting it and tagging me and I—”
“We’re going to fix it.” He tries to shush me.
“Kam! It’s my fucking phone.” My voice is raw and it hurts. It hurts from crying, from screaming.
“I’m trying to protect you, Ella,” he says, emphasizing each word, his face pained.
Gripping onto his hands, where he’s holding my phone hostage, I try to pry his fingers away. “Give it to me.”
“No!” Kam’s wide eyes look down at me as I fall to the floor, both palms hitting the wood with a loud thud. “Kamden,” I cry out, feeling so fucking alone.
“Jesus Christ,” Cynthia chides in the background. “Give her another Xanax and take her fucking phone away.”
I feel so fucking alone. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
I don’t hear what Kam tells Cynthia, but whatever it is has her offering a snide rebuttal as the door closes, leaving me sobbing against the drywall.
James. James wouldn’t be okay with this.
I’ve never felt so alone.
Zander
My house is a comfortable two-story standalone with a brick front in a neighborhood where the houses are separated with space and tress. It’s not that expensive, but it’s private.
I chose it for the privacy. It’s close enough that we could enjoy each other’s company at either house, while having our own spaces.
Damon suggested space, given how quickly things have developed and how their sessions have been carrying on. Space is good. There are times when I won’t be there for her and she should know to behave in my absence. She should be strong in solitude, if for no other reason than it would please me for her to do so.
So tonight, she’ll sleep without me. Silas has already been informed to be more vigilant than normal. I keep reminding myself that this is best. That she will benefit from this.