by Mia Kayla
The tension oozed out of me in one big exhale.
“But you promise me, Sunshine, you promise me, you’ll come see me.”
“I promise you.” My weak voice lowered to a whisper. “As soon as you check into a facility, I’ll be on the next flight.”
“You care about me?”
In what seemed like a very long time, I sensed the smile playing at the corner of his lips over the phone.
“Yes. Yes, I do. Very much.”
After we hung up, it took me a few minutes to get it together. I plopped on the bed, head in the middle of the mattress, as I stared up at the ceiling, noting the yellow paint chipping off at the sides of the room.
There was a knock on the door, and I sat up, wanting to hit myself.
Josh.
I had forgotten about Josh.
He turned the doorknob and peeked in. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I turned away, afraid he’d see the torment written on my face. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Mind if I come in?”
“No.”
He shuffled over, and I scooted, making room for him. His eyes scoured my face, and in that instant, I knew he knew.
“I wanted to check up on you. See if you’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” I said, my voice shaky.
He smiled and then dropped his gaze to my hand before taking it in his. “You’re not okay.”
A familiar heat spread at our connection, the comfortable touch, the touch I craved.
I looked at our intertwined fingers, reveling in the warmth of his fingertips against mine. “Yeah, that was Hawke.” I focused on the window and the apartment building next door.
“You going to go see him?” It wasn’t an accusation. His question came out cautious but more sad, like he already knew but only needed me to confirm.
My stomach churned at the complication of my situation. “He’s hurting and sick.” I knew what Josh was going to say. It was the same thing Chloe had told me—that it wasn’t my problem. “He’s getting help though.”
“And you’re going to see him,” he said, his voice gentle.
“Josh, he needs help.” I wondered why I was defending Hawke. He’d hurt me in more ways than I could count. But, in the next second, I realized it was because he had an addiction. He couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t see beyond what controlled him—the drugs.
“Would you turn your back on someone who was hurting?”
If anything, Josh and his compassionate heart had to understand.
“Do you love him?” His voice was barely above a whisper.
His question caught me off guard, and I fell silent, taking a moment.
“I do,” I told him, holding my breath.
My world stilled to a halt, and my heart stopped in my chest. I didn’t want to lose Josh. He’d been my rock when I needed him, but I couldn’t shake this overpowering need to see Hawke through to recovery.
“Do you love me?” Josh asked, his eyes full of hope and undeniable sadness.
I wanted to throw myself in his arms, but I knew that wouldn’t be fair.
My gaze met his, his eyes solemn. It was as if the air had gotten sucked out of the room in a vacuum, making it hard to breathe.
He was waiting for my reply.
My answer would hurt him, and it was complicated as hell, but I couldn’t lie. “I do.” My voice cracked around the words, but they were the truth. There was no way you couldn’t love Josh because he exuded love himself.
His eyebrows knit together, his thumb tracing the lines of my palm. “Your life is complex, huh?”
I couldn’t answer. If I did, I’d burst into tears.
He cleared his throat and stood. “Listen, I have to go…stuff to do.”
“Okay,” I responded, my heart breaking, as he stepped toward my bedroom door.
I followed him out, watching him waver for a moment at the front door. And, just when I thought it would be better for Josh to leave so that I wouldn’t complicate his life any further, his next words surprised me.
“It’s okay.” The pain of heartbreak flickered in his eyes right before he pulled me in. “You know how I feel about you. You don’t have to ask me because you already know.”
He lightly kissed my temple, and a fluttering sensation initiated in my belly.
Maybe it was something I’d been ignoring because I couldn’t face it, but he was right. I knew. It was in Josh’s stance, it was in the way he looked at me, it was in the gleam in his eyes every time I walked into the room. It was in the way he would massage my feet when we were watching TV or when he would softly swipe my face that had been kissed by flour as we were baking. It was the small smile and the lingering touches whenever we were next to each other.
Josh was in love with me.
He tipped up my chin to meet my eyes. “You’re you, and I can’t change you, your desire to save people. I wouldn’t want to change you for anything, Princess. But don’t lose yourself while saving others, okay?”
I closed my eyes and nodded. He kissed the top of my head before shutting the door behind himself.
A raw ache radiated in the center of my chest because of the struggle within me. It was selfish of me to be thankful for Josh’s feelings, but I was. He was the one who had been there for me and kept me together.
I slumped against the wall. There was a sourness in the pit of my stomach at Josh’s absence. My eyes stared blankly at the floor, wondering if I could truly save Hawke or if I was only repeating my past and losing myself in the process.
Chapter 5
My arms were elbow deep in dish soap, rinsing the pan that Josh and I had used to bake cookies. Again. I thanked the God above that I didn’t weigh a million pounds, given the amount of baking we’d done lately. Thing was, baking calmed me. It gave me purpose, and it kept me from worrying about Hawke.
A week had passed since Hawke agreed to seek help.
When I’d looked up the Pure Serenity Rehabilitation Center, the facility he had picked online, I’d had to double-check to verify that it was a drug and alcohol rehabilitation center. It seemed more like a resort with its endless recreational activities, like waterskiing and the kayaking. Let’s not forget about the infinity pool and the full-service spa.
If I hadn’t understood the treacherous road ahead of him, the uphill battle he’d face to fight this addiction, I would’ve wanted to go to that place as well.
I stared at the phone on the counter, my nerves on edge. The headlines from the morning entertainment news indicated that Hawke had checked into rehab, but the sources were unsure about what. There was speculation about drug addiction, and some even thought it was sexual addiction. I had known he was going in because we had decided on the phone which facility was best for him. What I hadn’t counted on was the media outlets getting wind that he was going on the day he was checking in.
I wished I could shield him from the world sometimes, but that was impossible when I was miles away.
When the cell vibrated against the cream countertop, I almost pounced on it, barely wiping my hands on my jeans before I picked it up. “Hello?”
“Hey, Sunshine.”
My whole body tensed at the strain in Hawke’s voice.
“Hawke, how are you?” I rubbed my one hand down my pant leg and rapidly blinked while anxiety of the unknown rose within me.
“I’m here. They’re about to take this phone. Part of their protocol. I won’t be able to talk to you until the week’s over. You’re going to come see me though, right?” The desperation in his tone hit me straight in my chest.
“I’ll be there on Saturday,” I said without hesitation.
I had promised him, and I would pull through. People battling addiction needed support, and Hawke had only me.
He released a long sigh, like seeing me was all that mattered. What mattered to me was that he got better.
“I hate these types of places. Their bare walls make me feel claustrophobic, like I’m in a fuck
ing jail cell. Or worse, a psych ward.”
Hawke’s name was true to his being; he was a free bird. No one could cage him in.
“You don’t like pools and daily spa treatments?” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“It’s not like that here, Sunshine. It’s not.”
I leaned over the sink, pressing my hand against the counter. He wouldn’t survive this week without motivation, without assurance.
“It’s only for three months,” I reminded him. “I’ll be there to spend time with you almost every weekend.”
Silence.
Forever silence.
I closed my eyes and prayed to the heavens above that this would work, that rehab would help him.
“I want you to get well, Hawke,” I whispered. “You promised me you’d take me to Paris, remember? How is that going to happen if you aren’t well?”
Muffled voices echoed in his room before he said, “Tilton has your itinerary. I’ll see you on Saturday, Sunshine.”
“All right,” I said, forcing my voice to stay even. “See you soon.”
I held the phone, staring at Hawke’s face on the screen saver. It was a side profile. I’d randomly snapped it when he was sitting on the couch, doing nothing. Even then, he looked beautiful.
He will get through this, I told myself over and over. I’d be his anchor.
The aroma of fresh pasta filtered through the air. Oregano, pepper, garlic.
Chloe and Josh were in a full-on cook-off. Chloe’s and Josh’s mothers were Italian and lived on pastas and breads and flavorful sauces. I guessed they were big into food. With Chloe, it was always competition, so she had challenged Josh to a cooking competition.
My counter was filled with pasta flour, the pasta shredder, and multiple gadgets. It was Top Chef but in my kitchen.
Me? I was plopped on the kitchen table, pretending to putz around on my computer, when, in reality, Josh and Chloe were my evening entertainment.
It had been almost four whole days since I’d last spoken to Hawke. It was as if I were waiting for the first day of school from the nervous bubbling in my chest, the nonstop thinking of everything, and the never-ending insomnia.
Forty-eight more hours. All the anticipation was leading to Saturday when Tilton would pick me up, and we’d drive to Schaumburg’s private airport to fly down to Phoenix where I’d finally visit Hawke after not seeing him in such a long time.
I wondered how he was doing. The hardest part of rehab was those first few days. Though I’d never experienced an addiction withdrawal, I’d been told that the pain was horrible. When day three had hit, I’d relaxed a little bit more. He’d made it through three days, and he’d just have to do it day by day. When I saw him, I’d make sure to boost him up and give him the encouragement he needed to keep on trekking along to the finish line. I’d come every weekend if work would allow it. I’d see him through this.
Chloe’s animated tone broke me from my thoughts.
“Aha! That’s not how you flatten the dough.” Chloe’s cheeks, nose, and one eye were white, like she’d been kissed by the flour.
Josh was wearing his Cubs hat backward, and his sleeves were rolled up to his shoulders. “And here I thought, it was about the ingredients.” He glanced over at me and winked.
Chloe pointed a scolding finger his way. “You! You’re flirting with the judge!”
“No, I’m not.” His face feigned innocence.
She jumped up and down. “Yes, you so were.” Then, she started to wink in my direction. “What is this?” Wink, wink, wink. “Is that not flirting?”
He tipped his head in my direction, his hands flattening out the dough in front of him. “Can you blame me? Look at her.”
Laughter bubbled from my chest. “I’m staying strictly unbiased, flirting or not. I’m judging on look, taste, and texture.”
A Yahoo alert flashed on my computer screen. The caption of the picture read, Hawke Calvin left Pure Serenity Rehabilitation Center this morning.
My heart immediately dropped. I blinked, unbelieving. He’d left? Already?
The rest of the article was blurred into a bunch of words. My only focus was on Hawke’s face. I couldn’t read his eyes because he was wearing his signature black Ray-Bans. Tilton was holding the door open to the limo as Hawke was stepping in.
Visible tremors shook my hands as fear knotted my insides.
“Sam!”
I jumped, glancing up at a curious Chloe, and then I slammed my laptop shut.
Through all my shock, I hadn’t heard Chloe yelling my name.
I cleared my throat, trying to get a grip. “So, are you guys going to take turns using the rack to dry your pasta?”
“What’s wrong?” Chloe asked, rinsing her hands. “What was on the computer?”
“Nothing.” I scrunched my face. I wished I had been born a better liar or had even a little of the liar gene so that I could keep a straight face.
She cocked her head toward Josh, and they shared a knowing look. As though she had telepathic powers, she immediately went for the remote.
“No!” I said.
But she beat me to it. She flipped the television to the entertainment channel, and just like that, Hawke’s face was plastered on the screen.
“Hawke Calvin, the lead singer of Def Deception, walked out of rehab today. He became irate with one of the staff members and left the facility. Although nothing has been confirmed, it’s said he entered rehab for alcohol and drug addiction.”
A second later, my phone rang on the table. Chloe and I glanced at each other before she leaped at the table and grabbed it. I fell onto her, and we both tumbled to the floor in a large thud.
She held the phone with both hands pressed to her chest while I battled her for it. I heard Josh calling our names, but I didn’t care. My main focus was on the phone.
“Let go!” I screeched. Desperation to speak to Hawke, to know the reasons he’d left, and to know he was okay tore through me.
“No,” she growled. “Fucker is not talking to you. Ever. Fat chance.”
We thrashed around, four hands gripping the same device. Her caramel-brown locks hit me in the face, giving me hair burn.
Just when I had a firm handle on the phone, Chloe flipped over onto her stomach. “Hello?” she said, answering it.
My throat closed up when she stood, her face beet red from our struggle.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Chloe,” I begged, pushing myself to stand.
“Nope. No. It’s not happening, buddy.” She raised a palm to stop me. “Sam sees the good in everyone. It’s in her genetic makeup. And she wants to see the good in you, but you know what you are? You’re toxic.” Her nostrils flared, and her eyes turned hard. “A damn leech that drains the blood out of every human thing it touches, and I will not let you drain her, you fucker. Stop calling her. You had your chance, and you fucked up over and over again. She’s done loving you!” And then she hung up the phone and chucked it across the room.
The impact of the phone against the hard wood floor had the battery disconnecting from the cell.
When I eyed the silver phone against the floor, her finger shook in my direction. “Don’t you dare. You’re done! You hear me? Done! Done! Done!”
My jaw clenched. The tension in the room was at an all-time high. We stared at each other, unblinking, unmoving. Her shoulders strained. Her chin rose.
“You’re never going to speak to him. Ever.” She glared. “Or we’re done.”
I flinched. I knew she was angry, and I knew she didn’t mean it, but still…it hurt.
Our staring contest seemed to last forever, as though we were battling in a non-blinking contest, until Josh’s voice broke our connection.
“Guys.”
We both glanced over to him. He was standing in the kitchen, holding his pasta midair. I had forgotten he was still here.
“You done?” He quirked an eyebrow. “’Cause I’m pretty sure we’re not
done.”
I blinked, stunned for a moment. Josh being Josh, he was trying to ease the strain in the air.
Chloe tilted her head and stared at Josh in the strangest way. Then, her shoulders relaxed, and the corners of her mouth tipped upward. She let out a low laugh. “You know I’m still kicking your ass in the cook-off.”
The mood lightened between them, and I forced myself to let this go. She’d just been trying to protect me.
When I approached her, she brought me into a hug and held me fiercely. I wrapped my arms around her just as tightly. I couldn’t lose her. In some ways, she was all I had.
She spoke softly, “I know you want to save everyone. Cats up in trees, stray dogs, but you can’t. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him, and you’re getting better. I don’t want you to start at zero again, okay?” She pulled back and searched my face. The same pleading eyes that had begged me not to blame myself many years ago bore into mine. “You can’t help people if they don’t want to help themselves. We know this, Sam.”
I nodded.
Usually, I was the mama bear, helping her through her issues with guys and whatnot. Lately, it seemed like our roles had reversed. It felt oddly refreshing. Like someone was taking care of me instead of the other way around.
I blew out a breath and buried my head into her chest, taking in her comfort. She was right. I couldn’t live like this. I had to put a stop to the emotional merry-go-round.
Chapter 6
Winter swooped in. Snow covered the ground, and below-zero temperatures forced out the thick down jackets.
My days were filled with work and waiting for my culinary school acceptance letters to come back. I would check my mail twice a day, hoping and wishing to see Le Cordon Bleu’s reply.
And my nights were filled with Chloe and Josh. They made sure that I never wavered from my I’m-done promise. It was hard not to watch TV or turn on the radio to check on how Hawke was doing, but there was never a dull moment.
Tonight, Chloe had a marketing event, so I’d accompanied Josh to his family’s mega mansion.
I peeked up from the dining room table, noting the high windows that spanned the whole wall behind him. The manicured hedges and rolling greens were covered with snow. The wall paper and crown molding made me feel like I was in a high-end architectural magazine. Though my surroundings overwhelmed me, my company made me feel oddly at home.
