Someone knocks on the door then immediately enters. “Hi, Aiden,” a nurse says. “How are you doing? You’re heart rate went up.”
I look at the monitors. Right. They could see everything on computer screens in the nurses’ station. “Yeah, just in pain. Can I get something for it?”
She presses her lips together. “I can get you a Tylenol. The doctor won’t prescribe anything stronger.”
I glare at her and she smiles apologetically. Right. I’m now labeled a drug-seeking patient. Well, I am. I just want to forget the darkness and go to sleep. “When can I leave? I want to go home.”
“I’ll page the doctor and see if he can talk to you. He wanted to keep you under observation.”
“I won’t stay all day,” I say flatly then feel bad for being an arse. She’s done nothing to me.
“I’ll let the doctor know.” She leaves and my phone rings. For the few seconds it takes for me to pick it up and turn it over, I hope it’s Haley, though I know I shouldn’t answer. I should just cut myself off and let her move on, find somebody better, someone who won’t break promises and isn’t constantly fighting the darkness.
I grunt and decline the call. It’s Kennedy. Not interested in talking to her. I pull up Haley’s number and Thomas walks back in.
He’s all about my video update idea and takes it further to stream it live to the audience and allow a few questions. It’ll make me seem really devoted to my fans, he says. Someone comes in to do hair and makeup, making me look not as sick as I really am.
By the time we’re done, I’m exhausted for real. The same nurse from before comes in and shoos everyone from the room. She assesses me then leaves, saying I need to rest. She’s patient and kind, and I think she knows what’s really going on, despite me saying I accidentally took the wrong pills. She closes the door and I lie back. I close my eyes and fall asleep before I can call Haley. She’s on my mind as I drift to sleep, and I dream of being with her and know that I can’t. I broke one promise, and I’ll do it again. I can’t subject Haley to the darkness inside of me. She’s too good for it, too good for me.
I am undeniably in love with her. She is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and she deserves so much more than I can ever give her. Walking away might be cruel, but staying is even worse. She’s beautifully broken and I’m a fucking mess. Pieces of me are scattered everywhere, dripping with blood and tainted with poison. There’s no putting me back together. I’m not just broken, I’m ruined.
Chapter 25
I call Aiden on my way to work that morning. He’s supposed to be up early for the talk show, and I hope I can catch him before he gets whisked away into hair and makeup. His phone rings only a few times then goes to voicemail. He must be in a location with crappy service. He wouldn’t hang up on me.
I think about him all day and am eager to watch him on the show tomorrow. I’m even more eager for him to get back. I thought about Mom last night, about the fire, and I didn’t have a flashback. Admitting my guilt to him absolved me of some of the dark horror that surrounded me. Aiden makes everything better. I am so completely in love with him.
He doesn’t call me back by the time I get home from work. Assuming he’s still busy with filming or meeting with his agent, I don’t worry and instead go about my day. I change into barn clothes then start chores.
As soon as I step foot into the barn, I know something is wrong. The smell of blood hits me, and I run to Phoenix’s stall.
“Oh shit.” I go through a moment of panic, not knowing if I should call the vet or get bandages first. “Hang on, sweetheart,” I tell her, and I rush into the tack room to grab gauze and disinfectant. Somehow she scraped off the large scab—that was almost healed—on her neck and is bleeding. Badly.
I clean up the blood the best I can to assess the damage. She’s missing a large section of her skin, a section larger than my hand. I cover the area with antibiotic ointment and padded bandages, then wrap her neck with gauze. I wipe the blood off my hands and call Dr. Wells.
She says she would have done everything I did, and there is no reason for me to have to pay for a barn call unless Phoenix takes a turn for the worse. I can give her an increased does of pain meds and need to keep her inside for a few days to allow the wound to heal.
I hang up, already shaken up, and now I’m worried that I haven’t heard from Aiden. He’ll call. I know he will. After all, he promised he’d never hurt me, and I believe him.
I spend the rest of the night in the barn, keeping my phone tucked in my bra so I won’t miss a call, a call that never comes. I text Aiden, asking if he’s okay, and go over all the excuses I can for him.
He lost his phone, or it’s dead and he doesn’t have the charger. I know that’s a bullshit excuse; he can send Claire to get him one. Maybe he’s so tired from being sick he’s sleeping, or maybe he took more pills and passed out.
Unease grows inside of me, and I toss and turn all night. I wake up and call him again, sure he will answer. I get one ring then his voicemail. I leave a message, asking if he’s okay, asking for him to call me back and just let me know what the hell is going on.
But I get nothing.
I should have known this was coming. I should have known he’d break all his promises and leave me. When something seems too good to be true, it is.
A week passes and I hear nothing from Aiden. I’ve called him twice, and texted him five times. That is more than enough. I’m worried about him as much as I’m pissed at him, and I put his name in for Google Alerts. I don’t want to find out through the grapevine if he got arrested for a DUI or something.
My alarm goes off that morning, and I break down as soon as I open my eyes. I want to go back to sleep, back to the black where nothing hurts. I want the hurt to end. I can’t take much more, and I don’t know how long I will last.
The alarm beeps for ten minutes, but the noise is drowned out by my crying. I don’t want to get up and face the world. I don’t want to get up and be reminded how alone I am, how stupid I am for believing Aiden’s lies, for falling for him.
I drag myself out of bed for them, the horses who will never judge me and never leave me. I’m on autopilot as I go down the stairs, not changing out of my pajamas yet. Everyone whinnies a hello…everyone except Phoenix. I blink, my eyes puffy and swollen from crying so much, and look down the barn aisle. She’s standing in the back of her stall, head down, and not moving.
If my heart weren’t ground into dust, it would break for her. But there is nothing left. Nothing. Just a cold, dark pit in my chest.
I go through the motions of feeding, tossing hay to everyone, filling up water buckets, and dishing out grain. I give everyone breakfast then sit on a hay bale, hands in my lap, unmoving, until the sound of chomping grain quiets. They’re done eating and can be let out.
I blink and push up, ignoring the growling coming from my stomach. It’s odd, being physically hungry but having no drive to feed myself. Skipping one meal wasn’t going to hurt me…again.
I let Benny, Shakespeare, Sundance, Gandolf, and then Aurelia into the side pasture. I watch, making sure the foal doesn’t get bullied, though I doubt I’d be able to do anything in time if she were. It takes everything inside of me to keep on my feet and keep going.
I open Phoenix’s door last and step aside, waiting for her to come out. When she doesn’t, I move inside and see she hasn’t touched her hay or grain from this morning. And most of last night’s hay is still there.
“Phoenix,” I whisper as I go back into the barn and enter her stall from the aisle. “You have to eat, sweetheart.”