“You heard. You either go back to rehab and get clean, or I’m gone. I won’t stick around and watch you screw your life up again.” My whole body is trembling under the weight of my words.
All emotion disappears from his face, and he takes a deep breath in through his nose. “Again? Sorry were you here the last time?”
I close my eyes tight shut, taking a deep breath in myself. Then I open them. “No. And why was that, Jake?” I stare hard at him. “It’s me or this?” I repeat, lifting the bag higher.
His jaw tenses, his eyes slip out of focus, then narrow back onto mine with a new determinedness in them. “I don’t do ultimatums.”
A pain hits me hard in the chest. He’s made his decision. He’s way more gone than I had realised.
As I blink through the agony, a tear runs from my eye. I wipe it away with my sleeve. Then I toss the bag of coke to him.
It hits his chest, and drops to the floor.
“Have a wonderful life with your drugs, Jake.”
I swivel on my heel, feeling more tears coming, I make to leave.
Jake grabs me from behind, pulling me back to him. “Tru, no, I don’t want you to go.”
“You can’t have both!” I cry in his face.
“Stop acting like a child!” A sudden callous anger bleeds through his voice, and he leans his face close to mine, his fingers gripping my arm to the point of almost pain.
“Me?! I’m not the one acting like a child!” I remonstrate. “I think you need to take a good long look in the mirror!”
His face contorts, and for a moment I don’t recognise him.
He releases me, pushing me away. “Fuck you. I can do what the fuck I want, and if I want to shovel coke up my nose all day long then I will – because it’s my life. I got by just fine before you turned back up, interfering with your holier than now attitude. I didn’t need you then, and I certainly don’t need you now.”
I sharp in a breath, his words chilling my skin to my bones.
And in this moment all I want to do is hurt him, just like he’s hurting me.
“You know what Jake. You were right – you are just exactly like your dad.”
He looks like I’ve hit him, hard.
Then his face smooth’s, his eyes fixing onto mine. “If that’s the way you feel. Then you know where the door is.” His voice is cold, emotionless, and terrifying calm.
It’s his ultimatum.
And I’m so hurt and angry that I can’t see straight at the moment.
“It is. I can’t do this with you anymore. I’m done.” Lifting my chin, I turn on my heel, grab my bag and slam my way of the hotel room.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
My heart is hurting deep inside my chest. I’m confused. My thoughts are all in a muddle.
And all I can see every time I close my eyes is the look on Jake’s face when I said to him that he was just exactly like his dad.
I didn’t mean it.
Of course I didn’t. I regretted the words the instant they left my mouth. But my pride wouldn’t let me take them back.
Jake could never be like Paul. He’s warm and loving … tender and so very kind.
He’s just lost at the moment, and he needs help.
But I’m not sure how to help him, or if I’m even the one who can.
Still, though, I walked out and left him at the point when he needs me most. What kind of person does that?
I know he said some shitty things, but so did I.
Honestly, my behaviour of late has left me questioning myself and my morals.
Not long ago I told Jake that I would never leave him, no matter what.
Last night I did just that. I broke my promise to him.
I kicked his ass about broken promises and then I go and do exactly the same.
Rolling over, I look at the clock for the hundredth time in the last hour.
It’s 5:30am and I’m laid in a cold, empty bed in a Best Western Hotel here in Boston.
I haven’t slept all night. I’ve just laid here in the dark, watching it through to light. Running things over and over in my mind, trying to figure out what to do for best.
After I left the Ritz, I walked around the city for hours.
Knowing I couldn’t go back to our hotel, and having nowhere else to go, and no phone to call anyone on, I checked into the next hotel I happened upon in my price range.
Once in the room, I took a shower, washing my hair with the hotel provided shampoo. Then I dried it using the hotel hairdryer. It was small, and smelt of singed hair, and it took me forever to dry my hair, but I did it because I need something to focus on. Something to keep me busy.
Then I watched mindless TV for hours until I could no longer stand it.
And now, for the last four or so hours, I’ve had nothing to keep my mind busy, so I’m forced to think about mine and Jake’s fight.
What am I going to do?
I was so angry with him last night. Angry that he’d let himself get back there. Angry he’d lied about using drugs, and that he’d kept it from me.
But I’m not angry anymore. Now I’m worried, and so very afraid. For him. For us.
If there is still an us left.