~ Emma
After we’ve finished our coffees, I take Nick home. I try to convince him to fill the sleeping tablet prescription, but he resists, practically begging me not to force him.
A part of me gets it; especially now I know the pills were a tool in Amy’s death. But the other part of me knows he can’t go on not getting any sleep either.
We spend the afternoon on the couch, neither of us saying much, the conversation we started back in the coffee shop, somehow getting left behind as we walked out the door.
I’m not sure if it’s because he doesn’t want to bring all of the bad memories back to his home or because despite our time with Adrian, he’s still not really ready to talk about things. Either way, the second we walk into his apartment, we are back to how things were last night. How things have been for the past week.
Nick is quiet and withdrawn, barely looking at me as he lies on the couch and watches a TV show that he isn’t even paying attention to. I try to continue what we started, but his one-word answers soon become nods and shakes of the head. His silence telling me more than anything else can.
Eventually I give up and wander into the kitchen to make us some dinner that I know he’ll barely eat. I find the screwed up sleeping pill prescription in the garbage and as I reach for it, it crosses my mind that I could force him to take these if I really wanted to. Hell, I could slip one into his beer and he’d never even know.
I know I won’t though, because that’s a line even I won’t cross.
After dinner, during which I somehow manage to get Nick to eat half of what I make him, I return to the kitchen, stalling with the cleaning so I can text Tony.
Me: hey, how’s things?
Tony: all good, bar’s covered this week. How’s Nick?
I take a deep breath, glancing quickly into the living room and Nick lying on the couch. He’s barely paying attention to the TV, let alone the fact I’m not there.
Me: the same.
Tony: shit…how are you?
The half laugh escapes before I can stop it.
Me: the same.
I see the bubbles of Tony’s typing pop up and disappear for what feels like ages until eventually the message comes through.
Tony: he needs help Em. I know you want to give him that, but I think it’s reached the point where he needs professional help. He won’t go, he doesn’t believe it can help, but it’s what he needs. I’m not trying to be a dick here, I know you care about him, a lot. I do too and I just want him to start dealing with this. Finally face everything that’s happened and deal with it.
All of the air leaves my lungs as relief washes over me. I type quickly, needing to respond.
Me: believe me, I feel the same way. I actually took him to see someone this morning.
Tony’s response is quick. A shrink??? Seriously??
Me: yes.
Tony: SHIT! How’d he take that??
I pause, glancing again at Nick to check he hasn’t noticed me. But he hasn’t, his eyes fixed on the TV.
Me: mmm I don’t know. He stayed, he talked…a little anyway. Says he’s going to go back.
Tony: fuck, good on you Em, seriously. I never thought he’d do that.
Me: he needs sleep too, but he won’t take anything so he can.
Tony: you know he never will. He can’t, not after Amy.
I nod, even though Tony can’t see me.
Tony: just be there for him, sleep will come.
I let out a long exhale, wondering when that time will be.
Me: yeah I hope so. And don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. You’ll let me know if you need help with the bar? I’m off work at the moment and can always help out.
Tony: It’s all good, Emma, seriously. And thank you.
Me: for what?
Tony doesn’t respond straight away and I can only assume it’s because he’s had to go. Even though he says he doesn’t need my help with the bar, I can’t help but wonder if that’s really true, if maybe I shouldn’t go downstairs one night and offer to help out for a bit.
I don’t know how Nick would feel about that and I’m not sure how comfortable I’d feel about leaving him up here alone either. I’m certain he wouldn’t do anything to hurt himself, but there’s also a part of me that knows, despite his reluctance to talk, he can’t be on his own right now.
I slide my phone into my pocket and head back to the living room. Just as I’m about to sit down, my phone vibrates with another text.
Tony: for walking into his bar that night.