Sighing I nodded. “Yeah. I should have bought four.”
“No, you should have bought one,” he said. “Let’s stop for the night okay. You’ve had enough of everything it seems. You won’t feel good in the morning. Time you went to bed. You go lay down and I’ll bring you a glass of water and an aspirin.
I started to argue that I was still hungry but my stomach rolled and I felt sweaty. “Okay,” I agreed and began walking to the bathroom. I didn’t feel good. Not at all. My stomach rolled again just as I reached the door to my bathroom and I ran to the toilet hitting my knees with a thud just before it all came back up. One heave after another.
When it finally stopped and all I had was a few dry heaves I felt Eli behind me. He had my hair in his hand. I wanted to lay down here and started to but a cold washcloth was on my face and it felt nice.
“That will help in the morning. You got it all out now. Let’s get you to bed.”
I stood up as he picked me up under my arms and staggered into my bedroom. My bed seemed so far away and sleeping on the floor was a good idea. I tried. Eli wouldn’t let me though. He forced me to keep walking and when I finally made it across the great ocean of my room I fell down face first. Into soft warmth. My bed.
I’d never been really drunk. Never thrown up because of alcohol. Never slept in my clothes all night with vomit breath. Until now. Opening my eyes hurt. But what was worse was the taste in my mouth. Yuck. Closing my eyes helped with the pain. Didn’t help with the nasty in my mouth though.
Voices were in the apartment. Eli wasn’t alone. I didn’t want to get up and I hoped no one came in here. Last night hadn’t been my finest hour. It might have been my lowest one. But for awhile, I was happy. I had food and the alcohol helped with the emptiness and sorrow that I had been trying to live with the past week.
“I told you she’s okay, Larissa. Leave her alone.” Eli’s voice was loud enough for it to be clear through the door.
“She missed work. She’s not come out of her room in a week. She’s hurting Eli and she needs help. She needs someone to pull her out of it.”
Larissa knew. They all knew now. It had made the news. Octavia’s father was too well known for it not to. The entertainment world had gone on about her ended relationship with Dean Finlay’s grandson. Seeing it had been terrible. Knowing Nate wasn’t able to hide and mourn in peace.
My door opened then and I squinted my eyes to see Larissa coming in. She closed the door behind her. “I get that you’re hurting. The whole thing is tragic. Terrible and it kills me that you’re dealing with this. You of all people should get to live in a happy world where shit don’t happen. But it does happen. It hurts. You know that more than anyone. As your friend, I am here to get you out of bed, showered and dressed and out of this place. We are going to get food, walk down the beach, shop, whatever. You aren’t staying in here another day.”
I wanted to argue but I didn’t think I had a chance with her.
“And good for you, getting drunk. Skipping work. And doing the unexpected. It’s about time. You can’t be perfect, Bliss. No one is.”
I wasn’t trying to be perfect, was I?
“Up. Come on. You stink like wine and vomit.” She pulled my arms and I sat up. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. You’re going to be okay. Life is going to go on and you will heal. You’ll find that happiness. And he will heal too.”
Tears stung my eyes. This wasn’t about me. Not about my pain. It was about Nate’s. “She killed his son.” That was all I could say.
Larissa wrapped me in her arms. “Yeah. She did. He’s going to suffer that for a long time. But one day he will find a way to move on. He will always remember but he will heal too.”
“I want that for him. He’ll never be mine. I’ll always be a reminder. That hurts so bad. I don’t want him to think of me an immediately remember this.”
Larissa squeezed me tightly. “In time you won’t remind him of this. You’ll remind him of a happier time. One he cherishes.”
She was wrong. But I let her say it anyway.
Nate Finlay
A CUP OF coffee appeared in front of me as I sat staring out at the waves crashing on the sand. Tilting my head back, I looked up at Lila Kate. She’d been quiet this week. Not said much at the family gatherings or the memorial. But that was her. She wasn’t loud like Calla. She didn’t do things to draw attention like Phoenix. And she wasn’t striking like Ophelia. She was just . . . well she was just like her mother.
“How are you holding up?” she asked taking the seat beside me. Lila Kate would have been my partner in crime when we were kids if she hadn’t been so damn sweet. She was so good and obedient I never could have much fun with her. Cruz Kerrington and I were always into some trouble and Lila Kate was always there worried about us and trying to talk us out of it. We were thrown together from birth. Teasing Lila Kate had been one of our favorite things to do.
That all changed with Cruz kissed Lila Kate when he was thirteen and she was fourteen. Then the next week Cruz was kissing Melanie Harnett. Lila Kate never spoke to him again. Cruz didn’t seem to notice. He went through a different girl every week. I knew Lila Kate kissing Cruz had been different than when she kissed me. We hadn’t enjoyed the experience. However, it was obvious she didn’t feel that way about kissing Cruz.
The one thing that I always noticed though was Lila Kate watched him. For years. He never saw it or her. Cruz was wrapped up in his world. Didn’t see much past his next good time. But I saw her. Probably because I often wondered if our parents were right. Maybe we belonged together. Then I would think about how much like a sister she was and throw that idea out fast.
“It sucks,” I finally replied to her question.
“Yes, I imagine it does.”
Lila Kate didn’t have to say a lot. She was just comforting with her silence. I always liked that about her.
“You’ve got them all worried. Blaire was at mom and dad’s today. I walked in the kitchen to see her crying. Mom was talking to her.”
That was another thing about Lila Kate, she didn’t hold back because she was worried about hurting you. She was sweet and kind but blunt. Honest was probably a better description.
“I don’t like making her cry. But I can’t pretend that I’m okay.”
“I didn’t say you could. Just letting you know what’s going on.”