I WOKE THE FOLLOWING MORNING with a kink in my neck. Trish only had one bed, and even though she insisted I sleep in her bed with her, I’d crashed on the couch. I was regretting that decision as I limped down the short hall to the bathroom.
I washed my face in her sink surrounded by every hair and face product she owned, and then I brushed my teeth. After dressing for the day, I went back into the living room and watching the seconds turn into minutes—minutes into hours.
Trish slept until noon, and by then, I’d already been up for six hours. I was sitting on the couch staring at the blank TV screen when she finally emerged from her bedroom with sleep crusted eyes and ratty blond hair.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” She yawned and scratched at her flat stomach peeking out above her boxer shorts.
“Because I didn’t feel like being attacked,” I joked. “I remember how rabid you are when you’re sleeping.”
“This is truth,” she said as she began digging through her mostly empty cabinets. “Oh my God, I’m starving. Want some breakfast?”
I chuckled. “More like lunch.”
Trish tugged open the refrigerator and pulled out bacon and eggs. My stomach growled with hunger when she began to fry the bacon and scramble the eggs. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was, and already, my mouth was watering.
It wasn’t until I was sitting on the couch with a paper plate full of eggs and bacon that my stomach decided to twist with nausea. I barely made it to the bathroom before the dry heaving had me on my knees in front of the toilet.
Needless to say, the eggs and bacon didn’t happen.
“ARE YOU SURE YOU DON’T mind me staying with you?” I asked.
We were discussing our new living arrangements.
“Of course not. Why would I mind?”
“Well, this isn’t exactly an ideal situation. I don’t want to invade on your space.”
“Please. It’s perfectly okay as long as Mr. Decker doesn’t see you,” Trish said as she snatched a can of Pringles from the shelf and tossed it into the shopping cart.
“Who’s Mr. Decker?” I asked.
“Um … my landlord,” Trish said with wide eyes. “He’s a total dick face, but he lets me slide with late rent from time to time. Probably because I don’t say anything when he stares at my tits. I mean, who am I to take away an old man’s good time, right?”
I rolled my eyes as I followed behind her.
“Will you get in trouble because I’m staying with you?”
The last thing I wanted to do was get Trish kicked out of her apartment. I hated to feel like I was putting her out in some way even though she swore I was welcome and that she kind of liked being able to have girls’ nights again.
Me?
I wasn’t as happy with our new situation.
Some nights, I’d lay on the couch and the tears would run down the sides of my face and into my hairline. Trish would pretend that she didn’t see my swollen eyes the next morning, but whenever I looked at myself in the mirror, it was more than obvious I was a mess.
“Don’t think about it. If he asks, you’re crashing for a few days. No biggie.” She tossed a box of cookies into the cart. “Worst-case scenario, I’ll show him my snatch cookie. He’ll love it.” She winked.
Three days went by, and on the fourth day, after watching Trish eat way too much junk food, I decided if I didn’t get out of the apartment and join the human race again, I’d go nuts. As it was, I was in the apartment alone most days since Trish had to work constantly to afford her place.
It was during those days, when I was alone and the rooms were silent, that the memories of that night a few years before would come rushing back. I’d close my eyes and I could still hear the gunshots. I could still hear Sebastian’s voice.
I definitely needed to get out. Plus, if I was going to be staying with Trish, then I was going to contribute. There was no need for her to work so hard when there were two of us to pay the bills. I’d help, and I’d do so without Sebastian’s money. I didn’t want anything from him when it was perfectly clear he wanted even less from me. I’d always wanted to work and be independent. With him deciding he no longer wanted to be with me, I had the perfect opportunity to do that.
However, just like before, the job search wasn’t great. I didn’t have the car Sebastian had gotten for me and calling Mac for a ride was out of the question, so instead, I opted to walk to each destination. I’d return to Trish’s apartment every night with aching calf muscles and blistered feet. It was terrible. I’d gotten so accustomed to the easy life Sebastian offered, but I knew I couldn’t give up.
Every afternoon, after spending the day searching for a job, I’d kick myself mentally thinking about how easily I’d quit my last job. All because Sebastian wanted me to. The money was good, and I could have easily made it work financially with that job. I could have even afforded a car payment since it would be over my dead body before I asked Sebastian for my Honda.
But I couldn’t call and ask for my job back. Not with the way I had left so suddenly. I felt bad leaving my clients. Vera, my very first client, had been doing so well. And Kevin Brewer was obviously doing well. I had felt like I was really making a difference, and then I’d just up and left them.
I felt terrible about it, but I knew I needed to keep going. I had to find a job.
It was exactly two days later when I received a call back from the Department of Juvenile Justice for a second interview. It was the farthest of any location from Trish’s apartment, but it would have to work. Perhaps, if I got the job, I could afford cab fare after I’d been working there a while. Because it didn’t matter how badly my feet ached—whether it rained or snowed—I wasn’t calling Mac for a ride.
That night, in honor of the job callback, Trish and I celebrated with a chick flick and a variety of frozen appetizers. Seriously, I couldn’t understand how she stayed so skinny when she ate so much junk. Meanwhile, I could barely keep food down and still had somehow managed to gain a pound. I even had to adjust my belt to the next notch and my pants were feeling snug. It didn’t make any sense.
We laughed about old times, cried over the loss of Gran, and ended up crashing sometime before two AM. I lay on the couch and listened to the night outside the window until I couldn’t take it anymore and I let the memories move in.
It wasn’t getting easier.
Every day, I missed Sebastian even more, and it hurt to know that he didn’t miss me.
I closed my eyes against the pain, letting the hot tears slide down my face until my body would finally release me and I’d fall asleep.
I GOT THE JOB, WHICH was a great thing and a bad thing all at the same time. The first two days were hell since New York was having particularly rainy weather. I’d hold my umbrella over my head and push myself through the cold, wet wind until I was running into the building and praying for warmth.
A few times on my walks back and forth to work, I could have sworn I saw Mac following me, but I knew it was all in my mind. Sebastian didn’t care enough about me anymore to have me followed. I knew in the back of my mind that it was my way of trying to make myself feel better. My way of trying to persuade myself that Sebastian still cared.
If Mac was following me, then that meant Sebastian put him up to it. And if Sebastian put him up to it, then that must mean he still cared, but by the time I stepped foot into the Department of Juvenile Justice to begin my day, I knew I was just making myself crazier for thinking those things.
On the second day of work, a fourteen-year-old boy spit in my hair. I held it together even though I wanted to cry. On day three, a twelve-year-old girl called me a bitch. Still, I held strong and pushed through. It wasn’t until my third day working when a large fifteen-year-old boy pushed me and called me a fucking whore that I finally snapped.
I left the room and cried in the bathroom. I wasn’t the same person I was before Sebastian had left me. I’d always wanted to make a difference for young kids. I’d always had patience when it came to kids in trouble, but I couldn’t do it anymore. I was too sensitive—too emotional. Everything made me cry, and I knew it was because Sebastian had stripped me bare—exposing every nerve in my body to the elements.
I wasn’t holding up well, and I ended up leaving work early on the third day after a tiny meltdown in front of my supervisor.
Sure, things were sort of looking up—at least in the job department—but what goes up, must come down. And so it was the day after my tiny meltdown at work when Trish gave me the terrible news.
“Mr. Decker called me today,” she said sadly.
I’d just gotten home. My legs were aching. I had blisters on my feet. My back had also started to hurt. I felt twice my age and that was just physically. Mentally, I was shutting down.
“He did? What did he have to say?”
Her expression gave her away. I knew bad news was coming my way even before she opened her mouth.
“He knows you’ve been staying here.”
And just like that, my heart dropped.
I had nowhere to go.
No one to back me up.
I was completely alone minus Kyle, who was attending his special art school, and Trish, who I was sure was seconds away from kicking me out.
“And?”
Her shoulders dropped and her sad expression darkened. “And he said you have to go. I tried to talk him out of it. I even showed him a little more cleavage than usual, but he wasn’t having it.” She patted my leg and shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Rosslyn, but I can’t lose my apartment. I can’t afford anything else.”
“I understand.”
And I did.
She had to survive just like I had to survive. It wasn’t my intention to move into Trish’s apartment and cause her problems. And the last thing I wanted to do was get her kicked out.
“I wasn’t even sure how he knew you were here, but he said something about an anonymous phone call,” she continued.
An anonymous phone call.
It didn’t make sense, but I had a gut feeling about who made that phone call. I didn’t know how I knew, but I just knew Sebastian had made the call. Even after kicking me to the curb, he was trying to keep control. He’d wanted me to stay in the condo while he provided for me. I’d turned him down as fast as I could, so this was his payback. He was getting me booted from the only other place I could stay.
He won.
But then again, Sebastian always won.
I had no choice but to run back to him. I didn’t even have a car I could live in at this point in my life. So after packing up my things for the second time, I left Trish crying on the couch.
With my tail tucked between my legs, I caught a cab to Clive’s. I didn’t like it, but I needed a warm place to sleep. And even though sleeping in a condo that was paid for by Sebastian Black didn’t seem ideal, at least, it was warm and comfortable.