Ashton Scott

I drink some more wine. “If you’re asking me whether she still loves him, the answer is yes. But as for whether he has another chance with her, the answer to that is I doubt it.”

“That’s a shame.”

I need to change the conversation. Jack’s my best friend, and I want to see him happy, but I feel protective over Jessica. I don’t want to even consider them together again. Their relationship was wild and intense, and it broke both of them. And although Jack was the one who cheated, I know there was more to that than him just screwing another woman. I know it stemmed from the darkness that haunts him, and that isn’t a place I want him to go back to ever. So I divert the conversation, asking Josephine about how her modelling agency is going, and we enjoy a long, lazy dinner catching up. And for the first time since I arrived in LA, I briefly escape the worry clouding my mind.

61

Ashton

I remember the day I discovered Jack wasn’t quite as happy as I thought he was. We were seventeen and in our last year of school. Jack was the guy everyone gravitated to. He was always laughing and causing the best kind of chaos. Teachers wavered between pulling their hair out over him and encouraging his enthusiasm in class. Not that Jack loved school or learning; he just loved being around people and being the centre of attention. Until the day he didn’t.

That day hit me square in the chest. Winded me. Seeing my best friend go from smiling and laughing to pushing everyone away and wanting to lock himself in a dark room caused me to worry about someone in a way I never really had before. For the first time in my life, I felt fear.

I’ve always worried for Jack, but I haven’t experienced that same level of fear again until now. Until this time. I’m having trouble sleeping and I’m not running at full capacity. Wrapping my head around what’s happening with my friend is a struggle, because ever since I arrived in LA, he’s shut me out. He may have engaged in a few conversations with me, but I know him like the back of my hand, and he’s shut down on me.

Jack’s doctor allowed him to leave the hospital today, four days after he was admitted, and we arrived home at his Carbon Beach home about two hours ago. He headed straight for his bedroom while I watched him walk away, unsure how to get him to open up. This isn’t a feeling I’m familiar with, and it’s messing with my head. His doctor advised me to simply be there for him, making sure he’s taking his medication and attending his therapy sessions. “Simply being there” for loved ones isn’t my strong suit, so this is a learning curve for me. I’d much rather force a positive outcome, but force isn’t what’s called for here.

“Ashton.”

I glance up from where I’m sitting on Jack’s back deck overlooking the ocean, and find him watching me. “Did you get much sleep?” Fuck, I feel like I’m making small talk with my best fucking friend.

He walks my way and takes the chair next to me. It’s a warm summer day, and yet he’s wearing black sweatpants and a grey Henley. In true Jack style, he ignores my question and asks, “When are you going home?”

I follow his gaze to the water. “When I’m convinced you don’t need me anymore.”

“I don’t need you, Ashton. Go home.”

“Whose opinion is that, Jack? Yours or your doctor’s?”

His lips pull into a flat line as he looks at me. “I’m taking my pills and seeing my shrink. If I need anyone else to talk to, I’ll call Josephine. Go home. I know you have much more important shit to take care of than me.”

The fact he only mentions one friend who he’ll call if he needs someone strikes me. Jack knows more people than he could ever list in a day, and yet when it comes down to it, how many of them would be there for him in the middle of the night when his mind is fucking with him? This Hollywood life is something else. And, not for the first time, I’m wondering whether it’s good for him anymore.

It’s my turn to ignore him now. “Your mum told Jessica that you seemed desperate for an end to everything when you saw her recently.”

His shoulders tense, alerting me to his discomfort with this topic. But, surprising me, he doesn’t shut down. “You’re asking whether I contemplated ending my life?”

The air in my lungs feels clogged. I want to avoid this discussion just as much as Jack does, because I’m not sure what I’ll do with his answer. “Yes,” I force out.

He exhales a long breath and scrubs a hand over his face. “No. But yes.”

Jesus, what the fuck does that mean? “So that’s a yes, then?”

His eyes bore into mine, and I see the depth of despair he’s living with. It fucking slices through me. Why can’t I just fix this for him? I need to find a way to get him better. “I don’t believe in suicide, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t come for me.”

There’s my answer, and it’s not the answer I wanted, but it’s the one I knew deep in my gut he would give.

“Okay, so that shit you just said about me having more important stuff to take care of back home? Don’t ever say that to me again.” I’m running on worry and anger, and my words rush out on a heated breath. “We’ve been friends for decades, Jack, and there’s no way in hell I’m sitting this out.”

He returns my anger, and it’s the first time in days I’ve seen this level of emotion from him. I take it as a good sign. “This is going to be messy, Ashton. I’m messy. My mind is blacker than it’s ever been, and to tell you the truth, I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to drag myself out of this shit this time. I don’t even know if I want to.” His brows lift. “That honest enough for you? Is that what you’ve been hanging around waiting to hear?”

Finally.

“It’s a great fucking starting point, Jack.” I stand. “I’m going to make us lunch now, and then we’re going for a walk on the beach.”

“Really? This is how this is going to go down? You’re going to take charge and run my life?”

I nod, feeling more like myself than I have in days. “Yeah.”