Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 188002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 940(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 188002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 940(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
Instead I ended up like him, lying in a bed wishing I could escape it all and just go to sleep forever. Fortunately, I snapped out of it within seventy-two hours.
Blue didn’t.
Reece made my flight arrangements. Ellie made Blue’s transfer arrangements.
And here I am, back in New Hampshire, crying at the airport.
Once upon a time, I only cried watching Titanic and other sad movies. What happened to that girl?
“It’s okay,” Ditra soothes, stroking my hair. I wish I could believe her, but I don’t think anything is okay and it might never be.
As much as I missed Lyric, I’m glad Ditra didn’t bring her to the airport to pick me up. I’m sure she knew I’d be a mess and would need some time to pull myself together once I stepped off the plane.
“I’m so sorry, Piper,” Ditra says when we get in the car. “I know this isn’t how you wanted things to go.”
“That’s a massive understatement,” I reply, digging a small pack of tissues out of her glove box.
“So he wouldn’t even see you or talk to you? Nothing?”
“Nope. The only person he’ll talk to is Reece.”
She pulls out of the airport and cuts off a driver in a blue truck, who flips us off. Dee is totally oblivious, and just keeps talking.
“What are you going to do?”
“What can I do? My hands are tied. He doesn’t want to talk to me, and now he’s been transferred to a full-time psychiatric treatment facility for the rich and famous.”
“I don’t know…maybe it’s time to just let this go,” she says hesitatingly.
I turn to look at her, but her eyes are glued on the road. “Let go of what?”
“Him. The relationship. All of it.”
“What?”
“Piper, you’ve been up and down with this guy for like fifteen years. Every time you think things are good, it all comes crashing down. But this? This is really just…beyond comprehension.” I open my mouth to interrupt her but she just keeps on talking. “He threw himself off a freakin’ roof. You said they found drugs in his bloodwork and in his room.”
“Not drug drugs, Ditra. They were prescriptions. That’s totally different!”
She gives me the wicked side-eye. “Okay, Piper, but he’s not supposed to be mixing them all up into a cocktail. I know you love him, but this guy has got some serious issues that can’t be ignored anymore. It’s worse than we even thought. He’s not just some random homeless guy turned rock star who has a drug and alcohol problem. Now we find out he’s got a lifelong history of some kind of mental illness.”
“Don’t say it like that!” I sob. “I don’t want to hear this.”
“You have to hear it. This is the father of your child. You have to think about her.”
“Of course I’m thinking about her!”
“Do you really want someone like that near your daughter? Or in your life? Is this honestly the type of guy you want to marry and have kids with? When the hell does it end with him? I’m not even involved with him and I’m exhausted and just done with it all. I can’t even imagine what you must feel like. And now he won’t even see you or talk to you? He just lays this epic bomb on you and then hides? Fuck that!”
I want to throttle her for her harsh comments but I know she loves me and is genuinely worried about me so I refrain from smacking her upside the head. Reece and I talked about this before I left. We knew most people wouldn’t be supportive or understanding. I just wasn’t expecting to have to deal with this kind of reaction so soon.
After I give myself a moment to calm down, I fix my runny eyeliner with a tissue and then attempt to talk to her without screaming and crying.
“First of all, he didn’t do any of this on purpose, Dee. He’s not trying to hurt me. I believe that with every part of myself. And he’s not hiding, he’s sick. Now he can be properly evaluated and diagnosed—for the first time in his life, I might add. The doctors are very optimistic that with the right medication and treatment, he’ll get better and hopefully won’t have these episodes anymore. I mean, even without treatment, he’s led a pretty productive and functional life. So with treatment, he should be okay.”
“Well, Jesus, I really hope so, but what if he’s not?”
“Please try to understand how hard this is for me. You’re right—I’m exhausted. I’m confused out of my mind. I feel betrayed; I feel like I failed him. I’m upset he won’t see me but I also understand that he feels awful and he needs time to come to grips with what he’s feeling before he can deal with what I’m feeling. This is about him right now. He’s sick, and he needs to get better. I have to deal with my feelings about it separate from him.”