by K. M. Scott
Tears fill my eyes as I say, “There’s no one else, Ian. Not since the day we met. You’re all I think about, even during those five weeks after you said goodbye.”
“I’m sorry, Kristina. I was just so torn up by how easy it seemed for you to let me go…”
Before he can finish what he’s saying, I stand and shake my head at how wrong he is. “It wasn’t easy to let you go to Italy without me. I wanted to go, but Joanne found out what I was planning and I couldn’t. I know I should have, but I wanted this part so badly.” I stop and take a deep breath. “Oh, what does it matter now? If I didn’t stay, if you didn’t go. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
He cradles my face in his hands and stares down into my eyes with so much regret that my chest tightens at seeing him like this. “I did this to us. You didn’t do anything wrong. I wanted to think you did because you chose something over me, but you’re here with me and I don’t want to think about the mistakes we’ve made or the time we’ve lost.”
“But what happens now?” I ask, almost afraid to know the answer.
“I’m going to have to kick this, but it’s going to be hard for you. Everything about me is going to be nothing but bad, but I swear if you stay, I’ll stop.”
“Hard for me? Why?”
“I’m not going to look or act like myself as this poison leaves me. I’m going to want it more than anything, and when I can’t have it, I’m going to get ugly. I just want to tell you now that I love you and when I say those things that hurt you, it’s not me talking. It’s the addiction.”
I don’t know if I can handle what he’s going to be like, but I don’t have a choice. I love him.
Within two days, I see firsthand the ugly Ian had promised. Already in withdrawal, he looks like a twisted, horrific version of himself. I roll over as I wake in the morning and see him staring not at me but at the wall. His eyes look wild, and his skin glistens with a layer of sweat, even though it’s winter outside and no warmer than seventy degrees in his apartment.
Reaching out, I go to push his hair off his damp forehead and feel his skin. It’s cold even as he lies there sweating on top of the blankets. My touch makes him cringe, as if anything on his skin hurts.
“Ian, tell me what I’m supposed to do. You look so lost and in so much pain.”
“Just don’t go. This isn’t too bad yet. When it gets bad, please don’t leave me here alone or I’ll find some way to get more so I don’t have to go through this.”
“How long will this last?”
Frowning, he shakes his head. “I don’t know. A few days, maybe. I only used for a short time this time, so maybe it won’t be so long. I’ve never stopped without going to rehab, though, so I don’t know.”
He curls up next to me, and I want to take him in my arms and never let him go he looks so broken and hurt. Over and over, he begs me not to leave. “I’m not going anywhere, Ian. I promise.”
I gently pull him to me and he whispers so quietly against my shoulder that I can barely hear him, “I can’t do this alone. Please don’t leave me.”
There in his bed as I lie with him in my arms, I promise him something I’ve never been able to promise anyone else before. “No matter what, I’ll be strong for you. I won’t leave you.”
For hours, I stay beside him as he shakes almost uncontrollably one minute and then seems so tired he can’t even keep his eyes open the next. I’ve never seen him so vulnerable and weak, and all I want to do is keep my promise to him to be the strength he needs.
But that part of me that’s never been strong makes me doubt I can do this.
As it begins to get dark outside, Ian slowly opens his eyes and I see the fear and pain he’s going through in them. “Every inch of my body hurts. I can’t take this pain, baby.”
“It won’t be for long,” I whisper as he curls up next to me, shivering even as his skin is hot against mine. “I promise it won’t be for much longer.”
That promise is one I can’t keep because I have no idea how long he’ll be like this. Even worse, my phone has been vibrating every hour on the hour, and I know it’s my agent wanting to know why I’m not back in Vancouver on the set. I’ve avoided her all day, but I can’t ignore her forever.
“I’m so thirsty. Can you get me a glass of water?”
“Okay. I’ll be right back,” I say as I cover him with the sheet and blanket. As I leave, I grab my phone to call Jennie and try to figure out how I’m going to explain to her that I can’t go back yet.
That Ian needs me more than I need any role, and I won’t leave him now.
Alone in his living room, I dial her number and prepare myself for the lecture I’m bound to get. Looking out the floor to ceiling windows that show me the city below, I hear the panic in her voice as she answers.
“Kristina, where are you? I’ve been calling you all day. You were supposed to be back on set this afternoon, but they say you aren’t there. What’s going on?”
“Jennie, I can’t explain everything, but I’m not going to be able to leave New York just yet. I need you to make some excuse so I can stay here and still be able to go back to the set when I can.”
“What? You have to get back there, Kristina. An entire production can’t shut down for just nothing.”
I look around to make sure Ian is still in the bedroom and whisper, “This isn’t nothing. Someone I care about a great deal needs my help, and I can’t abandon them now. Please, I’m begging you. I need you to help me. Just tell them I need a little more time. Make something up.”
“Kristina, is this the torrid love affair guy from the magazine article?”
I think about Ian going through withdrawal in his bedroom and try to remember when we were torrid lovers. Smiling, I say to her, “Yes. I can’t leave him now. He needs me, and I can’t let him down. So tell them I’ll be back in a few days more.”
Jennie lets out a big sigh. “I hope you know what you’re doing, honey. Okay, I’ll tell them you’re sick. Everyone gets sick, right? I’ll say it’s the flu and you’re laid up sick as a dog.”
“Tell them whatever you have to. I promise I’ll be back in Vancouver within the week, okay?”
“Okay. Take care of yourself, Kristina. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Thank you, Jennie. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.”
I press END and let out a sigh of relief. At least I have a few more days to be there for Ian before I’d have to return to the set. I have no idea what will happen in that time, but I can’t leave him in the state he’s in now.
“Kristina! Where are you?” he says in a voice more like a groan as I walk back to the bedroom with his glass of water.
I stop in the doorway at the sight of him sitting on the edge of the bed. His black hair hangs in damp clumps over his face, and his shoulders hunch over as if he’s holding the weight of the world on them. His breath is coming in shallow pants, and I worry that something has happened in the few minutes I was away.
Hurrying to his side, I sit down next to him and practically feel the waves of misery coming off him. “What happened? Why aren’t you in bed?”
“I was thirsty, and I didn’t know where you went or if you were still here at all. I wanted to get a drink, but when I stood up, my legs gave out.”
He turns to look at me and spies the glass of water in my hand. Reaching out for it, he shakes so badly I’m sure he’ll drop it if I let go, so I hold it to his lips and tilt it back slightly so only a tiny bit flows into his mouth. I pull the glass away, but he grabs my hand and gently squeezes it.
“I’m so thirsty. A little more.”
“It’s okay. Just let me hold it. You’re too weak from being in bed for so long.”
Ian takes another small gulp of water, and as I take the glass away, he looks over at me and gives me a gentle smile. “I’m weak because my body is craving that poison, Kristina. You don’t need to sugarcoat it.”
I nod to show I understand, but I truly don’t. I
want to help him through this, but I’m so ignorant of everything he’s feeling.
“I didn’t mean to…” I let my thought trail off because I don’t know what to apologize for. Instead, I press a smile onto my lips and try to sound as happy as possible, hoping that helps in some small way. “Let’s get you back into bed.”
He doesn’t fight my suggestion, although I’m not even sure being in bed is helpful in his condition. I help him back under the covers and crawl under them myself, suddenly more tired than I’ve been in years.
“Are you feeling better now?” I ask as he rests his head on the pillow next to me.
Knitting his brows, he frowns at my question. “No. Worse, actually.”
I press the back of my hand to his forehead and feel his skin dry and cool for the first time in hours. “You don’t feel hot anymore.”
As I pull my hand away, he holds it and presses his dry lips to my fingertips in a kiss. Then he looks at me with those dark eyes that still seem so lost and says, “I don’t have the twenty-four hour flu, baby.”
“I know. I mean, I don’t know what to say here. I don’t know what you’re going through, so I don’t know how to act,” I explain, barely holding back the emotional tidal wave inside me.
“You don’t have to act any way other than who you naturally are. I love you for not leaving, even though you never signed on for this with me.”
My conversation with Jennie weighs on my mind as I watch him struggle to relax. He tosses and turns in what looks like agony over and over, and then just when I think it can’t get any worse, he stumbles from the bed to the bathroom and makes a retching noise so terrible I jump up and run to see if he’s still alive.
What I see is so much worse than everything I’ve watched him go through already. On his knees and holding onto the bowl of the toilet, he vomits for nearly ten minutes straight, his shoulders and back violently undulating with each heave. I stand behind him rubbing his skin and ready to help, but I can’t do this.
I’m not enough. He needs more than I can give him.
Ian finally sits down on the floor and leans back against the vanity. Clearly exhausted, he looks like a shell of the man I met a few months ago as he wipes his mouth clean. I can’t watch him like this anymore. It’s breaking my heart.
I sit on the floor next to him and take his hand, knowing what I have to say next isn’t what he wants to hear. But it’s what he needs to hear. So with my emotions ready to boil over, I say quietly, “I’m not what you need, Ian. You’re not going to get better like this, are you?”
Hanging his head, he slowly shakes his head. “No.”
“We need to get you better, baby, so tell me what you need me to do so that can happen. Wherever you need to go, I’ll get you there.”
His voice raspy, he says, “Meadowbrook. My agent knows all the details. Get me my phone, please?”
I get him the cell phone and watch as he calls her to let her know he’s messed up again. The pain and regret in his voice is almost too much to bear, but from what I can hear of his side of the conversation, she’s understanding.
Ian hands me the phone and buries his face in his hands. My eyes fill with tears as before me what’s left of him falls apart. Taking him in my arms, I feel the sadness he can’t keep in anymore as his body sags against mine.
“I’m sorry, Kristina. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll get better, and by the time you get home, I’ll be back and we can pick up where we left off before all that Rome stuff and this happened.”
I want so much to be able to put all that behind us, even as the fear that we can’t sits in the back of my mind terrifying me. He looks up at me and all I want to do is take his pain away.
“I love you. Forgive me.”
Holding him to me, I know he loves me as I love him. But is that enough? After everything we’ve been through, is love enough?
I step out into the January chill of northern Arizona and shield my eyes from the sun beaming down on the front of Meadowbrook Drug Rehabilitation Center. Six weeks of no drugs or alcohol seems to have made me as sensitive to sunlight as a vampire, and I step back into the building to wait for Sheila, happy to be finally going home.
She’s been her usual wonderful self during all of this. Somehow, she’s found a way to keep my current stint in rehab off the radar of my publishers and virtually every other person on earth. I don’t know how she does it, but without her, I’d be lost.
And Kristina.
Some days, the only way I got through the hours without going clear out of my fucking mind was reading her letters to me. Every week, she sent me two. The first always sounded upbeat and sweet, and the second always sounded like she felt like I did.
Like she didn’t know if she could go on being there while I was here.
Just knowing I wasn’t alone in this kept me sane when all I wanted to do was unravel and never come back from it. My Kristina. After watching me hit rock bottom, she was the one who’d been brave enough to see I couldn’t shake my addiction without more help than she could give me. I couldn’t see that, but she could.
I love her for that and everything else she’s given me.
I’m ready to return to her and make up for all the bad I’ve done. Running my hand through my hair, I take a deep breath and love how good I feel. Healthy and good, just like she deserves.
All her letters are stored in the bag I brought with me here, and I open it up to read her last letter she sent just two days ago. Full of love and her worry for me, I cherish it like every other one she sent.
Dear Ian,
As I sit here hundreds of miles away from where you are, I feel like I’m missing a part of me. I know you had to go there, but I can’t tell you how lonely I feel. Every day I say my lines and deliver a performance I try to be proud of, but I don’t have you to share it with. I wish you were here so every night we could lie in bed and I could tell you all about my day. I so wish I could see the proud look in your eyes.
And then I think of everything you’re going through there and feel ashamed that I’m here at all. How could I have ever thought this role was more important than you?
I believe in us, Ian. I know it’s been hard, and you still have a little more to go through, but I know when we’re finally together again, all the bad we’ve had to deal with will fade away as long as we remember we love each other.
The next time I see you will be like the first time. Do you remember that night at Jax’s? I can’t wait for that moment when I get to look into your dark eyes and feel that thrill I felt that first night we met. I’ll see you soon, baby. Until then, I love you and can’t stop thinking about you.
Love,
Kristina
I fold her letter and slip it back into the envelope as I think back to our first night, smiling at the memory of how much I wanted her even then. Since that first moment when she became more than just a face on the screen, I’ve loved her.
“Mr. Anwell?”
I look up and see one of the facility’s staff members smiling down at me. “Yes?”
“Your ride is here. It’s time to go.”
Sheila walks through the front doors and comes toward me with her arms open. I think she might even be happier than I am that I’m finally leaving. “Ian, you look wonderful!”
For once, I think the same about her. She’s wearing jeans and a grey sweater, a look that’s quite casual for her but one that she wears well. When she releases me from her hug, I say, “You look great too, Sheila. Decidedly unprofessional for once, and it looks good on you.”
She rolls her eyes and blushes. “On top of getting clean, they gave you even more personality. I approve.”
Grabbing my bag, I chuckle. “Well, this place is the best in the country.”
“I have so much to tell you. While I was busy hiding all of this from New York, I’ve been greasing all sorts of wheels for your career. I’ll tell you all about it on the plane ride back. For now, we need
to go or we’re going to be stuck in the desert, and this is definitely not the place for me. Way too dry here.”
“I don’t want to stay another minute longer than I have to. I’ve got too much to go back home for,” I say as we walk out to the cab.
Sheila winks at me as we climb into the back seat and drive away. “Does this have anything to do with that woman who was at your place the day I came to take you here?”
“Yeah, it does. I didn’t just get clean for me but for her too.”
“I’ve never heard you talk about anyone like that, Ian, and I’ve known you for years. I like hearing you say things like that.”
“You never know. All this happiness might make me lose my edge,” I joke, hoping to lighten things up a bit.
Sheila shakes her head and puts on a serious look. “No, it’s not like that. When you’re really happy in life, you can do anything, and that includes writing another fantastic book.”
“I had no idea you were such a romantic. I thought you were only a literary agent shark.”
“I’m not kidding, Ian. I hope you have some happiness. You deserve it. Maybe being with this woman will help you silence your demons.”
Her reference to my drug use does what my kidding couldn’t, and suddenly, the mood between us turns more serious than ever before. I owe Sheila everything, and it’s time I told her that.
“I can’t thank you enough for what you did. Every time, I mean. You’ve been so much more than just an agent, and I don’t tell you that enough.”
“You’re a great talent, Ian. It’s my job to make sure you have what you need to nurture that talent.”
“You know that’s not all you do, so don’t try to be humble. I wouldn’t be alive today if you hadn’t been there to save me from myself all these times when I got lost in that shit. I owe you everything. I just wanted to say thank you.”
She gets all choked up and looks away out her window. A few seconds later when she’s composed herself, she turns back to look at me. “Do you know that’s the first time you’ve ever said anything like that to me? Not that I need to hear it, but it’s nice.”
