“How’s your new movie?” she asks, leaning in again.
I sit back against the seat. “It’s great. We’re wrapping up filming soon.”
She laughs and touches my arm, curling her fingers under my sleeve. “Of course it’s great. And it must be keeping you busy. You’ve been so quiet.”
I nod. Between the movie and Haley, I’m busy. Really busy. I spend all my free time on the farm, with the woman I’ve given my heart to. “Yeah.” I cast Sam a look. He shakes his head then puts his fingers under his chin and pulls an imaginary trigger. I give him a tiny nod. That is exactly how I’m feeling.
“So that girl with the horses on your Instragram,” she starts. I internally laugh. I should have known this was about Haley. “She’s just some handler from the set, right? You were so sweet to post those pictures. Probably made her day.”
Should I start counting down the minutes until crazy Kennedy makes an appearance and begs for us to get back together? “She’s my girlfriend, which I’m sure you know.” I signal a cocktail waitress to bring me another drink. There were several pictures of Haley and me together circulating around the Internet. It was even a trending topic on Twitter when a picture of me kissing Haley in a coffee shop surfaced.
There is no way Kennedy doesn’t know.
She laughs. “You don’t date regular people.”
“I’m a regular person,” I say, my fingers tightening around the empty shot glass. I look up, feeling relief when I see the waitress bring my drink over.
“No you’re not,” Kennedy says. “We’re not regular. Aiden, what the hell? I know you had a few ‘issues’ when we were together, but come on. You’re joking with me, right? That girl is not your girlfriend.” She nudges my arm and laughs, looking out at the crowd again. She spots a man with a camera and moves in close, throwing her arms around me.
I want to shove her and tell her to get the hell away from me but stop, the image of my father pushing my mum to the ground flashing through my mind. The darkness rises, and rage floods my veins. I gulp my drink as terror plagues me. I will not be like my father. I twist away as the camera flashes.
“I’m not joking,” I say calmly, working hard not to cause a scene and freak the fuck out.
“Well, good luck with that. Where is your regular girl now?” She looks around the table like Haley will just appear. Anger boils inside me and I start to feel out of control. I take another drink, needing to calm down.
“At home,” I say, not explaining that “home” is her home, not mine.
“Interesting,” Kennedy says before she lets out a breath. I know she’s disappointed. Was she hoping to hook up? “Listen, Aiden, you should really think about this, okay? I only say that because I care.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I blink and finish my drink.
“Once the novelty wears off, you think she’ll still want you—want this? Oh, right, you think you’re such a stand-up guy.” She rolls her eyes and waves her hand at me. “Yeah, getting drunk, passing out and pissing your pants makes you a winner. Has this regular girl seen that part of you yet? She doesn’t get your life. She doesn’t understand how things work. And people who don’t understand—who aren’t impressed with what you are—don’t stay, Aiden. She’s not going to want a long-distance relationship with you, while she’s home cooking and cleaning and you’re on some exotic set with a sexy co-star. She can’t handle it. Trust me. Leave her before she leaves you, because that will not be good for your image. Aiden Shepherd, dumped by a nobody horse-trainer from Nowheresville, Montana.”
I sulk back, trying not to let Kennedy’s words bother me, but they do. Not the part about Haley leaving me, because I don’t think she will. I believe her when she says she loves me, even though she tried hard not to fall. What bothers me is the part about me drinking and passing out. I promised her I wouldn’t do that again, and I know I will break that promise.
I know I will break her heart when I said I never would. She is too good for me. I’m not a good person, and the darkness inside of me sometimes wins.
Like tonight.
I’m feeling worse and worse about myself, so I’ll keep going until I’m completely obliterated and can’t remember my own name. It doesn’t make things better. I know. Yet I still do it. Fuck. I can’t stop. I can’t resist taking pills and getting shit-faced. I promised I’d stop and I’m not going to. I hate myself for it.
I hate myself.
Soon Haley will too.
It’s only a matter of time, really. Everyone who knows the real Aiden Shepherd hates him eventually. Maybe it was a mistake letting Haley see me, the real me. Maybe then I wouldn’t have gotten in this deep and hurt so fucking much. And maybe she wouldn’t hurt either.
I’ve had enough, and I get up to leave, not saying a word to my friends. I pull my phone from my pocket to call Claire but stop. It’s two a.m. and she’s asleep. It’s a dick move to wake up her when I’m perfectly capable of getting my own cab and going home.
I text Haley when I sit in the back seat of the taxi. I have my hood up and hair in my face, trying to conceal my identity as best as I can. The cabbies around here are used to it and don’t get all star-struck, thank the Lord.
I miss you, I type. I hope I’m not waking you up. Just wanted to let you know I love you. It takes me several minutes to get the letters in the right order. I’m too drunk to type straight. I send the message and hope for a response, but I don’t get one. It’s good, really. She needs to sleep.
I’m tired, and my body aches as I go up the curved staircase to my room. I shower and lie in bed naked, cool air from the ceiling fan rushing over my damp skin, causing me to shiver. I’m cold now, and tired.
I stare into the dark, unmoving. Ten minutes pass. Then twenty, thirty, and I’m still lying there, unmoving.
My phone vibrates, pulling me out of the darkness. I sit up and grab my phone off the nightstand. It’s a text from Haley.
Haley: Miss you too. Get some sleep. Love you.
I smile and get under the covers, thinking of her. Yet I can’t sleep. I can’t shut off my mind, and now invasive thoughts are running rampant, showing me images of Haley’s lifeless eyes, skin on her face blackened and burned. And somehow it’s all my fault.
She worries there is something wrong with her, that her mind is broken. It’s not, not at all. She’s hurt, grieving, dealing with an enormous amount of guilt she shouldn’t put on herself.
What’s my excuse? Why is my mind so fucked up? I close my eyes and see death. If not my own, then that of others—others who I love. I think about dying, even when I want to live. I can’t escape the darkness no matter how hard I try. Not without her.
I can’t take the visions of Haley’s dead face flashing before me. I get up and open the top drawer of my dresser, taking a bottle of Ambien from the back. I pop a couple in my mouth and swallow them dry. My throat hurts from forcing the pills down. I focus on the pain and lie back down. Twenty minutes later I’m still awake, still getting flashes of death, still feeling my heart rip out of my chest at the thought of loosing Haley. I force myself up and pull out another pill bottle, my mind too fuzzy to read what I’m taking, but I think they’re pain pills. I take three or maybe four—fuck, I don’t know. I wash them down with a mouthful of vodka and fall back onto my mattress, waiting for the effects of the drugs to kick in and knock me the fuck out.
“Aiden!” Someone shakes me. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?”
“Mmmhh,” I groan, and I try to open my eyes. I can’t. I can’t move my arms or get a word out. I’m still drugged.
“Aiden, you’re freaking me out!” It’s Claire. She shakes me again then pats my cheek quickly with her fingers. “Open your eyes!”
I try, really, but I’m too tired. I slip back into sleep. I take a shallow breath and try to open my eyes again. I can’t. It should alarm me, right? I should be concerned that I’m hardly breathing, unable to sit up, talk, or open my fucking eyes.