Walking into Andi’s apartment felt surreal. I had been here before many times, but this time, I was walking into it as my home, and that gave me a bit of unease. Her apartment was just like her with lots of yellows, oranges, and greens—happy colors, just like her. It was warm, inviting, and comforting. My boxes piled in the corner were a definite eye sore.
Andi led me to her spare room, and my heart sank. This woman took so much time putting together a space where I could feel comfortable. It looked almost exactly like my room before except with the boxes lining the walls. I didn’t have much, but it was enough to make a mess.
She saw the emotion all over my face and left me alone to gather myself. I loved how she knew what I needed and allowed me to have it.
As I sat on the bed, I couldn’t help chuckling at the irony of the situation. I had left one place where I spent most of my time sitting on a bed, only to return to another and do the same exact thing. So far, there wasn’t much difference.
Andi didn’t leave me to my thoughts long. “Come on. Help me cook.”
I groaned. I was a terrible cook. The worst. I could burn water, no problem. Something in the oven would come out black. The only thing I could do was make a sandwich, which I used to live on. You can’t burn those.
“I suck at cooking.”
She just smiled at me like she was so excited I was there with her, and dammit, I was, too.
***
We sat, eating chicken and rice, which I did not touch in the cooking process, in the living room. The vibe between us was very off, but I should have expected it. Yes, we had left things on good terms, but that didn’t mean everything between Andi and I was back to the way it was before. We needed to talk. Judging from the apprehension written all over Andi’s face, though, she wasn’t going to be the one to start the conversation. It was up to me.
I sighed, setting my fork down. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I can do to make it up to you or make things right between us.”
She set down her plate immediately, relief washing over her features at my words. “I need to know you are really better.”
“Huh?” Her words took me a bit off guard. I wasn’t expecting them. I expected, “It’s all right” or “We’ll work it out.” Not this.
“Better. Are you better?” She moved quickly over to the couch, sitting next to me where she grabbed my hand, and I breathed through it. “I need to know you aren’t in that same place you were before. I need you to be better.”
It was more of a plea than a question, but I answered, anyway.
“Better is relative.” I shrugged then let it out. “The entire time I was in there, I wanted to get out so I could end all the pain. I was drowning, Andi, and I couldn’t get up. I refused to take the medicine or talk to the doctors at first. I was in so much pain.”
“Where did the pain go?”
That was a really good question. “I’m not sure. It’s still there, but it’s different now. I don’t know how to explain it.” I honestly didn’t have a clue. It was still inside me because I felt it, but the sinking feeling I’d had didn’t pull me as hard as before. All the swirling emotions were beginning to slow, but they hadn’t found their resting place yet, and I didn’t know how to express that to Andi.
“Do you want to kill yourself?”
I sucked in air, clenching my top lip in my teeth. That was the million-dollar question. Nevertheless, I had already decided the answer while I was inside.
“No.” The word came out strong and sure, unlike how I felt inside. “I talked about finding myself, the real me. I think I need to do that first.”
The smile that crossed Andi’s lips could have lit up a football field, and it gave me a small bit of confidence that I was doing the right thing.
***
Andi spent the previous night and all of that day not leaving my side. I knew she feared what I would do, but this keeping an eye on me like a hawk thing was a bit much. It did give us time to talk, though. I had talked more in the last few months than I had in my entire life. I had never been a talker; it’s hard to be when you’re told to be quiet all the time. You learned quickly to keep your mouth shut.
I was nervous, almost to the point of my hand being jittery. I had checked Andi’s locks several times throughout the day, but she had never said a word. I had hoped that little quirk of mine would have disappeared while I was away, but that wasn’t why I felt this way. It was because I had some decisions to make, and I was lying to myself. I was jittery because I had been out now for over twenty-four hours with no sign of Lynx.
It was asinine for me to think he would come right to me, but I had that H-word, and I could kick myself for it. Every second that ticked on the clock was a small bit of that H-word chipping away.
After the next full day of Andi’s hovering, I was happy when she went to work. She didn’t want to and was worried. However, I reassured her over and over and over that I would be all right. The truth was, I needed some time to myself. I needed to think, so that was what I was doing.
I needed a plan, one without Lynx in it. I didn’t survive all that time out on the streets without being smart. He might show; he might not. Regardless, I needed to gear up for the latter because sitting around this apartment wasn’t helping.
First things first, I called my old boss, Judi, at the bar. Luckily, she needed someone part-time starting in a week. The waitressing job didn’t fare as well. It was a big no, but at least I had something.
I then grabbed Andi’s laptop, firing it up. I typed in Rebecca Jameson into the search bar, hovering over the enter key for quite some time before eventually hitting it. Several things popped up, but it appeared there was a famous actress by the same name. Judging from the picture, the woman looked around my age. It was a dead end.
I typed in Robert Jameson. Surprised wasn’t the word for it. Shocked, torn in a small way, happy. The first thing that popped up was an obituary. I was scared of the man. Terrified. I had never wanted to see him again, but I didn’t expect to see this. I clicked on the link, opening up the document, and sucked in a breath. My body temperature spiked as my father stared back at me, his cold eyes still as hateful as I remembered.
I read though the words, not feeling an ounce of sadness. Should I? I couldn’t, not after what he had done to me.
It said he had died of massive heart failure and was survived by Rebecca Jameson, no mention of me. Why would it? I was non-existent to them. However, it didn’t stop the small pang of hurt that aimed right at my chest, and I could feel the waters beneath my feet beginning to swirl.
I closed my eyes and took in some calming breaths. I can do this. I can. Opening them back up, my father’s gaze cut through me like a knife. Yes, if it made me a bad person, then so be it, but I was glad he was gone. He was one less person I had to worry about coming to find me. He didn’t need to matter anymore. Ever.
I wasn’t going to tell Andi. If she even suggested I go to his gravesite, I would lose whatever I had in my brain holding it together.
Trey. I needed to get ahold of him to help me find my mother. I liked this. It gave me purpose, a goal. It made me feel like I was doing something worthwhile instead of just sitting on the couch and staring into space.
I didn’t have my old phone; therefore, I didn’t have Trey’s number. I could go to the bar, but the only thing I could do there was wait for him. As a result, I did the next best thing: I called my boss who gave me his number.
When I dialed, it went to voicemail.
Two days later, when I hadn’t heard back from him and still had no word from Lynx, I started to feel anxious. I could feel it climbing up my skin, cloaking me in heat, each inch it covered getting hotter and hotter. I couldn’t control my breathing, and my hands began to shake.
I wanted to believe Lynx would come back, but each tick of the clock was a second lost.
Deep breath, Reign, I told myself, sucking in a breath as I sat on the toilet.
Andi was making dinner, and I didn’t want her to see me like this. I didn’t want to worry her, and I knew it would be exactly what she would do.
In. Out. In Out, I chanted as I inhaled and exhaled. You’re all right, Reign. You’ll figure this out.
I kept sucking in air. After several minutes that felt like hours, the heat began to recede. It didn’t fully disappear, but at least my hands weren’t shaking anymore.
I rose from the seat and looked in the mirror. My eyes looked scared. I closed them and reopened them, hoping they would change. When they didn’t, it felt like a punch to the gut.
The plan, Reign. What’s the plan? The plan … right.
I kept breathing and then began counting down from fifty. At number twenty-two, I felt the control slowly come back and grasped on to it with two hands.
Looking back in the mirror, I watched color come back to my face as my eyes began to look more relaxed. It was then that something weird happened.
I felt … pride. I was proud of myself for coming back and not getting sucked down into the dark tunnel. I had that control, and that was a great feeling.