I can’t sleep.
I must have been crazy to think I’d be able to though. Not after today and the things I said to her. I must be the lowest human being on the planet, yelling at her like I never cared about her, especially on her first day out of rehab.
Fuck, I do care. I care, but I...chickened out. She’s right, I am scared. I’m too scared to tell her I love her, because...if I did that, and she decided she couldn’t love me back one day, I think I’d lose myself, just like I did before.
It took me years to overcome that too, and I never want to go back. I never want to be that person again, so I guess it’s safer not...just not letting myself fall into this thing with her.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t love her. I can’t shake that feeling, no matter what I do.
I dated the same girl all through middle school and all four years of high school. Lou was the only person that seemed to understand me, and was the only one who was there, by my side, as I watched my mother slowly lose her mind. I figured we’d leave town together, go to the same college, and get married one day.
But I was wrong.
She wasn’t ready for that. For the next step. She told me that I was her best friend, but that she needed to experience life first, before she could decide to stay with me forever.
She left town the day after we graduated. She barely said goodbye, and as I sat in the living room, watching my father try to convince my mother that she was where she belonged, I knew it was time for me to move on too.
So I did, and I promised myself I wouldn’t let anybody in again, because they could never understand me the right way. I mean, if somebody I’d known half my life couldn’t...who could?
I just never counted on Sarah taking over me like this. The simplest way out is to leave.
But I can’t leave her like Lou left me. I can’t put that pain on somebody else.
So I’m stuck. Stuck and in love with a woman that’s completely out of my league.
I toss and turn, close my eyes, try to drift off to sleep again. Flight leaves at one pm tomorrow and I have a ton of shit to do for Sarah’s publicist before we leave. She’s coming by tomorrow morning for a brief meeting with me, just to outline the things she wants Sarah to talk about in her interviews and the things she absolutely doesn’t want her to say.
Should be a good time. Hopefully I’ll be able to stay awake for most of it.
Aside from that, I have my own shit that I have to plan, and make sure I follow through with. Sarah has to stick to a very strict diet from now on, and that means I have to monitor everything she eats and drinks, record it all in a special journal that her doctor gave to me. She’s not allowed alcohol, or caffeine, and if she has to use the bathroom, I’m to go in with her and monitor her with my back turned...at least until her follow up appointment. That’s really awkward too, but I mean...what other choice do I have? It’s my job, and they say if she’s alone she might be tempted to vomit up lunch. That can’t happen anymore, not if she wants to get herself healthy again.
Eventually I get fed up with trying to sleep, and get out of bed, pull on my boxers and tee shirt so I can head downstairs. Sometimes, late at night when I can’t sleep, I warm up some milk for myself, like my mom used to do for me years ago when she still could. Most of the time it helps.
I’m praying that it does right now, but when I reach the bottom of the long staircase and enter the kitchen, I freeze. I thought she would have been in bed, knocked out long ago because she was exhausted and upset about what happened this afternoon.
But she’s not in bed, she’s at the table, papers spread all over the place, passed out with a pen in her hand. I approach her silently, so as not to disturb her, and glance at the papers.
It’s my work. All of it. My briefcase is resting on the floor beside her feet, wide open, paperwork and schedules sticking out in every direction, completely unorganized, and normally that would drive me absolutely insane.
But I can’t be angry. Not when she’s made...an effort, on my behalf, basically for the first time ever.
She’s not the same London. Not at all. She’s Sarah now, more than she’s ever been before. Sarah who...could possibly be in love with me.
I sigh.
All she’s done tonight is make an attempt to patch things up between us. She feels guilty, and that’s crazy, considering our argument was started because of me, because I kissed her and swept it under the rug.
“Hey...” I crouch down slightly, and tap her on the shoulder. “Sarah.”
“Hmm...five more minutes.” She sighs deeply, and turns her head in the other direction.
It makes me smile slightly, and before I know it, I’ve moved in closer to her, allowing my fingers to sweep her hair out of her face and travel down her cheek. I can smell her, that perfume she loves...Chanel something, and it flips that switch inside of me, makes me hungry for her.
I back off.
I can’t do this. It’s too crazy.
“Sarah.” I say it louder this time. “C’mon, wake up.”
“Huh...” She slowly sits up, and her eyes open. She takes a few moments to rub the sleep out of them, before she manages to focus on me. “Oh...hey.”
“You all right?” I feel myself smirk, and I start to gather up my paperwork from the table top. “What’s all this?”
“Oh I...” She looks down at everything. “I thought I would try to help you out, you know...for tomorrow.”
“Well you shouldn’t have.” I neaten the pile of papers before reaching for my briefcase, which she hands me, and I start to organize all of my files again. “I get paid to do all of this stuff for you.”
“I know that.” She says it darkly, and slowly rises to her feet. “I was just trying to be helpful.”
“Helpful would be you getting some rest.” I give her a tight smile. “There’s a lot to do in the morning.”
“Oh so now I’m useless too?”
“What?” I scoff. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.” She pushes past me angrily. “You just...you must think I’m this stupid, fucking idiot.”
“You’re taking this whole thing with us way too hard,” I say softly. “Sarah...”
“I was trying to help you! I was trying to make your life a little fucking easier! I mean, it’s the least I can do, right? You...you always know what to do and I never...I never do.”
She’s sobbing now.
I hate myself for it, but at the same time, I can’t make myself...be that person she wants so desperately.
I’m just not prepared to give her that part of me. I’m not prepared to give anybody that.
“You know things...Sarah...I mean, you’re the famous one, right?”
She laughs at me this time. It’s a bitter, sad laugh though, and I know I haven’t made her feel any better. “Yeah, I’m famous. A famous fuckin’ joke, and you know what’s even worse? I can’t even...I can’t even get a date with a normal guy like you. I’m not good enough. I’m never good enough...unless I’m spreading my legs for some playboy. That’s my social level though, right?”
“You’re being ridic...”
“No!” She yells and angrily points her finger at me. “It’s the truth.”
I can’t say anything. The only thing I can seem to do is look down at the floor and cross my arms, and when I hear her storming away, I know I’m probably the biggest coward on the planet. There’s about a thousand things I could have done just now to make that situation go different. I could have apologized, I could have told her a little bit more about myself.
But I avoid all of that, because I’ve been determined to push my past out of my system since I left home.
And that makes me the stupid, fucking idiot.
The next thing I hear makes my blood run cold. A door slam down the hall, which is inevitable the bathroom door...and I know what that probably means.
“Fuck.”
r32;How can I go from life saver, to the person responsible for her relapse all at once?
She’s a basket case.
But I’ve known that for years.
I race down the hall, and when I try the knob, the door is locked of course. “Sarah!” I pound on the door.
Then I hear it. Coughing, then sputtering, then full on vomiting.
So I kick in the door, cringing only slightly when I hear the wood splintering. It doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters, except making sure she’s okay.
“Stop!” I quickly kneel down beside her and do my best to pry her away from the toilet. “Sarah!” I’m shaking her, shaking her as hard as I can while she attempts to stick her finger down her throat. “Stop it!”
She vomits again, and it’s only after that she gives in, leans back against me while I reach out and flush the toilet for her.
“What the hell?” I say, breathlessly. “I fuckin’...damn it, Sarah.”
She just moans, and sobs out incomprehensible things. The most I can do is hold her, rub her back gently and try my best to calm her down. This isn’t about us right, not about what happened. It’s about her...and her issues. I could very well have her sent back to that clinic, but I know...I know it’s not the right time. The press would have a field day, more than they’re having now, and she doesn’t deserve that. She’s trying...
She’s just stressed and I haven’t helped things.
“What now,” she finally mutters after the longest time. “You’re going to send me back right?”
She laughs sadly, and her voice is weak again, so weak that it convinces me that I made the wrong choice when I kissed her. That I allowed my emotions to get in the way because...I’ve been lonely for such a long time.
Now she’s paying for it.
I have to make it right.
“I’m not sending you back,” I whisper. “I’m not saying anything, to anyone.”
“Why?”
“Because you have a lot on your plate. What happened just now is my fault, and my fault alone.”
“Other people wouldn’t see it that way.”
“I’m not other people.”
She snorts.
“You need to get changed. C’mon.”
She groans, but lets me help her up, and somehow I manage to get her up the stairs and into the bedroom. I make her sit on the bed while I gather fresh pajamas for her, tossing them at her in frustration when I pull them out of the drawer. “Go change.”
She does it silently, staggering back into the bedroom, exhausted, ten minutes later. I’m just thankful there were no more issues, that she didn’t try to shove her finger down her throat again. I quickly lift her lofty down comforter up, so she can crawl into bed, and she doesn’t seem to have the energy to protest that either, because she gets in almost immediately, and I cover her up right away. “You okay?”
She nods.
I get her a glass of water, and put it on the nightstand, trying my best not to look right at her as my hand reaches for the light switch. “I’ll wake you around nine.”
“Justin.”
I sigh. “You need something else?”
Her eyes open wider, and she looks right at me. She’s pale as hell, sick again, and I hate that. She’s beautiful...she doesn’t deserve to be drowning in this fucking disease.
“I’m wrecked,” she croaks. “I am.”
I shake my head a little, sit down beside her, and take her hand in mine. “You’re not.”
“Nobody thinks I can be...London, anymore. They all think I’m...I’m just nobody, and then you...” She trails off and looks directly into my eyes. “You just...think I’m a nobody.”
I close my eyes and sigh. “I don’t think that.”
“But you said that you can’t...you can’t see us...”
“I know what I said, but it means something different than what you think.” I squeeze her hand. “I think you’re amazing, Sarah. You hold yourself back from too much, that’s the issue. I wish you could see yourself the way I do. Maybe one day you will, but you have to stop all of this. You’re hurting yourself. I can’t take it. It’s killing me.”
“At least give me the real reason then. I think you owe me at least that.”
She’s right.
But I’m terrified.
“I...I left home, so I wouldn’t have to talk about it anymore, Sarah. I left my life behind. I’m not all that willing to start reliving all of that again.”
She stares at me for awhile after that, a look of understanding in her eyes. Then she lets go of my hand, and puts hers to my cheek. I let her, even though...it hurts to know that I can’t let myself give in. Can’t let myself care like that.
“You’re amazing too, Justin.”
And now, I think she’s finally starting to get it, even if I can’t get into it with her. She gets me. She always has, even if it took her years to come around and act human, and I think she always will.
Even if I’m not ready to let her in.
Author's Chapter Notes:
I really appreciate all the support and thank you everybody who nominated Starlet for the Featured Stories. Of course, if London was real, she wouldn't expect anything less haha. Enjoy.
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