Consumed (Addicted to You Book 1)

by Flatman, NJ

  This time was different. It wasn’t like the others. The hope was gone and all I had left was misery. Emptiness. And a stack of bills I couldn’t cover by myself.

  “Don’t do it Avery,” my best friend Colby had said when I’d told her. “Don’t move in together. He’s not stable and you won’t be able to manage.”

  I had been so angry. I could still hear her condescending and judgmental tone. She didn’t like Spencer. That hadn’t been a secret. She was telling me that he would leave. He would go.

  I could still hear her warning. But I’d defied her. I’d been so angry with her, and so hopeful, that I’d refused to even hear her. Wanting so badly to believe that he was going to give me the commitment that I needed, I’d went against even my own instincts and signed the lease.

  And he left.

  She was right and as I lay there feeling hopeless and destroyed I hated her for it. I hated her for being right. I didn’t want to tell her. Not then. Not ever. I didn’t want to see her gloating expression. As much as I loved my best friend, the fact that she was right made me hate her.

  I would have to find a way to pick up the pieces of what was left of me, and to pay the bills I’d known I’d never be able to handle by myself. The grief blended with something different. Something I’d never known during those other times he had left. A feeling that I’d never felt for Spencer since the day I’d met him.

  Lying there - on that mattress that we’d been so proud to bring in and share- for a brief moment- I hated him. All the lies he had told made me sick. The promises that he had made fueled the rage. He had hurt me. He had caused my pain. He had fucked me over. I blamed it all on him. And I hated him passionately.

  I thought of our late night talks. He shared stories of his past. He had told me about his his fiancé. He had been broken by it. His life had been crushed and he had trusted no one. He had vowed to never let anyone that close again until me. He told me that I was different. That he couldn’t stay away. He had said that something in him believed I would make him happy.

  And I’d tried. I wanted him to see that he could be loved. That I could love him. That I would never hurt him. I needed him to know that I wasn’t her, or any other for that matter.

  Yet he had hurt me. Over and over. He had done to me what was done to him. The thing that he feared the most in life. And the more I thought about that, the more I hated him.

  But the moment was brief. The feeling was as fleeting as his presence. I picked up my phone for what must have been the tenth time. A heart full of hope, I loaded my texts. It was Colby. I threw it. Hard. I no longer cared about the damned phone. The anger was too much.

  Of course it’d be her. She’d be all ready to hear how Spencer had done it again. She’d be standing by with a list of reasons why I needed to forget about him. She didn’t see that I couldn’t.

  How do you forget about something that you need to survive? It’s like trying to forget to breathe. He was the light in my world and when he left it was noticeable. It was dark and cold. And I would do anything in my power to get him back. I was angry. That he’d left. That Colby would be happy. All of it.

  But, as I tossed my phone across the room and heard it thump against the wood floor, that hatred was replaced by something else. I felt heartache. Stronger than I’d ever known. It was primal. It was deep. It was profound. And with nothing to try and bring me back to the edges of sanity- it was uncontained.

  Reflexively, I bent my head towards my knees and closed my eyes. My chest heaved in and out as I struggled for a breath that was getting ever harder to capture. And in those silent moments, the sobs erupted and I was absolutely certain that it would, indeed, be the time that I didn’t make it through.

  Chapter 2

  The memories and thoughts were vivid and real. Playing like a film through my mind as I lie in the bed crying and clutching his pillow. My only lifeline was the consistent flow of scenes from our relationship that would help me to smile, if only for a few a moments.

  “I think that guy’s checking you out,” Colby’s laugh had contrasted the whispered tone of her words. “Actually, I’m pretty sure of it.”

  It was a warm Saturday in mid-june. The sun was beaming from a perfectly clear blue sky and we were soaking it up. Midwesterners enjoyed the hell out of our summers after enduring the bleak dreary weather we saw during the winter. That particular day we were in the backyard of a mutual friend’s house, celebrating the season with one of our well known barbeque parties.

  Essentially what this means is that we were all decked out in summer gear, sipping on drinks, mingling with friends and waiting on food that we may or may not eat. But it was tradition and we loved it.

  I had always felt very fortunate to live in Oak Park. It was a small community on the outskirts of Chicago so I had the best of both worlds. I could enjoy normal neighborhood events like the barbeque that I was attending, or in no time at all I could have a night out in the city. Between downtown and the nearby suburbs there was never a lack of shopping, dining or other things to do.

  “I doubt it,” I blew Colby off because she was doing what she did best, trying to find a way to hook me up.

  Colby couldn’t understand why I dated as little as I did. Hell, sometimes I didn’t understand. It just kind of worked out like that. I wasn’t particularly avoiding guys. It just wasn’t a priority to me and the guys I ended up around didn’t seem to find me interesting in that way.

  She thought that someday I’d find my knight in shining armor. I didn’t think they existed. Love wasn’t the way she read about it in those damned romance books. There were no soul mates and connected hearts. Fate didn’t exist. Destiny wasn’t real. It sold movies and music and books. But it wasn’t real.

  If I were lucky, someday I’d find a guy that I enjoyed enough to build a life with. Have a family with. But I’d never find some knight to come save me. If I wanted to be rescued, I’d have to learn how to do it myself.

  “Seriously Ave,” she’d continued the subject. “He’s dead staring at you.”

  I was lying back on one of the lounge chairs and hoping the sun would help to darken the visible parts of my skin.

  “Maybe he’s looking at you,” I suggested, knowing that was probably far more likely.

  “I don’t think so,” she countered. “I smiled at him and he looked at me like I was crazy.”

  “You are crazy Colb,” I teased her.

  I turned my head slightly in the direction she was facing; making sure my sunglasses covered my eyes so that my glance wouldn’t be noticeable. She was right. There was a guy looking in our general direction. Without staring him down, it was hard to tell exactly what or who he was looking at.

  I found myself watch him for a moment. He had dark hair that was longer than most guys I’d dated. He stood off to the side with another guy I presumed was a friend. I’d never seen him at one of the parties before. He was new. Probably someone’s boyfriend or something.

  “Yea,” I rolled my eyes behind my sunglasses. “No.”

  “What? Are you serious? What do you mean no?” she almost panicked that I’d even thought of saying that.

  “That boy is not looking at me,” I told her, hoping she’d drop it.

  “Why are you so sure of that?” she asked.

  “Did you see him?” I questioned, revealing my own insecurities. “No guy that looks like that would give me the time of day. Let alone be sitting there staring at me.”

  “Avery, you frustrate me,” she huffed, lying back on her own chair. “You are really pretty. Why do you always believe you aren’t?”

  “Look Colby,” I sighed. “I didn’t say I’m hideous. I am average. But guys like that, they don’t want average. They want…you. It’s not a bad thing. I’m okay with it. It’s just the way it is.”

  “Whatever,” she grabbed a book and proceeded to ignore me.

  I didn’t tell her that I was still glancing in his direction. No way I was going to tell Colby that a p
art of me wondered what it might be like if she’d been right. How would I feel if a guy like that looked at me? What I wouldn’t give to have someone like that love me. I mean, if love existed like that. Which it most certainly did not.

  He didn’t seem to be happy with the party. In fact, he looked downright miserable. My guess was that someone forced him to attend and he didn’t know anyone and wanted to leave. I’d had those types of things happen many times. Especially with Colby. She and I were different and our tastes and comfort levels were nowhere near alike.

  I noticed the way he looked in our direction, but I was convinced he wasn’t looking at me. There was no way that he would bother. I adjusted my bikini top and turned back towards my friend.

  “He’s not my type anyway,” I offered, wishing she’d talk to me but about another subject.

  “How do you figure? What is your type?”

  “Not him,” I stated, shrugging because I really didn’t have an answer.

  Truthfully, I didn’t have a type. I’d pretty much latched onto a variety of types over the years and none of them had worked out. If they continued to want me, I didn’t want them and vice versa.

  “You’re hopeless,” Colby was annoyed and I decided it was time to end the conversation.

  Instead of talking, I closed my eyes. It’d be a while before food was done and I didn’t feel much like drinking anymore than I already had. I was off work and I just wanted to soak up the sunshine and fantasize about the Myrtle Beach trip that Colby and I swore we’d take every summer. This would be another that it wouldn’t work out, but there was always the next one.

  “Do you have a lighter?” the voice roused me from my thoughts. “I forgot mine at home and my buddy refuses to leave yet.”

  I opened my eyes and tried to focus my vision on the face staring down at me. He ran his hand through the dark mop of hair atop his head, cocked his face slightly to the side and turned up the corners of his mouth into a goofy grin.

  “Shelby doesn’t like people smoking at her parties,” I informed him.

  “Then I’ll take a walk,” he replied. “But if I don’t have a cigarette soon I’m liable to start stabbing people with plastic sporks.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous threat. He was funny. I had to admit I liked that.

  “You might want a better game plan,” I replied. “She buys cheap shit. The only damage you will do is to the spork. Those of us needing to eat wouldn’t be so happy. Inability to consume Amanda’s potato salad just might be cause for a brawl at the barbeque”

  “I work with what I’m given,” he answered. “But I generally prefer to avoid violence.”

  “Not a barbeque kind of person?”

  “The only person I know here is ignoring me to try and hook up with a girl,” he shrugged. “Any girl.” I waited to see if he added more. “I feel a little out of place.”

  “I’m sure you’d have no problem finding a girl to talk to yourself,” I mentioned, realizing too late that I was complimenting him inadvertantly.

  His grin grew wider.

  “I think I did,” he joked. “So, do you have a lighter?”

  “I’m not fond of being used for my flame,” I teased.

  “What do you prefer to be used for?”

  The question made me blush. My sarcasm was strong and instant, but in that moment I couldn’t think of a single reply. For the first time in my life I was left speechless.

  “I was kidding,” he offered, seeming nervous that he’d offended me.

  “I know,” I spoke softly. “I just didn’t have a comeback.”

  “It happens.”

  “Not to me. Never.”

  “Then I take that as a victory,” his voice was smooth and sexy, soft and yet firm.

  “Want a trophy?”

  “How about instead you take a walk with me?” he asked.

  “I get the feeling you only want my lighter, but I’m feeling frisky- so why not,” I sat up, preparing to stand and leave with the guy I didn’t know. “But I might need your name so that my friend can look for me if I disappear.”

  “Spencer,” he held out a hand to help me up. “Spencer Phillips.”

  “Nice to meet you Spencer,” I shook the hand that I currently held. “I’m Avery Bradfield.”

  “Shall we take that walk Avery?”

  “Sure,” I nodded. “But if you want the lighter, you had better be on your best behavior”

  “Always,” he grinned.

  As we walked off, I looked back at Colby and saw the grin that was spread wide across her face. Finally, a guy had talked to me. It was a thought that made my head spin as we left the backyard and headed towards the sidewalk. The hot guy was talking to me. That never happened.

  Chapter 3

  Shut the hell up!

  My mind was shouting the words, but so far I’d managed to keep them from slipping through my lips.

  I was standing at the side of one of my tables, listening as a current customer chatted about the long lines at one of the grocery stores nearby. She was very upset. Apparently she’d had to wait for almost half an hour to purchase a birthday cake for her daughter’s party earlier that day.

  In all the times I’d dealt with heartbreak I’d learned that being around others was the hardest part. As physically overwhelming as the pain and agony were when I was home alone, the knowledge that no one else gave a damn about what went through my head was twice as hard. Even as I nodded along and listened to her story, I wondered what made the human race such an inherently selfish species. Why did everyone think that others wanted to hear about their lives and problems without ever been considered as having their own?

  “I almost didn’t make it home before the guests arrived!” her voice was shrill, leaving me with a radical desire to poke at my ears with the fork she was currently holding. “That would have been a catastrophe,” obviously failing to realize that my simple nod wasn’t interest, her overdramatic plot continued. “Do they not realize that we have lives? That we don’t want to stand in line for hours so that they don’t have to pay more employees to run their registers?”

  I watched as her husband shook his head, agreeing with her silently and letting her continue to rant. His patience was admirable, but his lack of empathy for the poor waitress neither of them knew made me a little angry. I wanted to ask her if she didn’t realize that I didn’t want to hear her sob story. The words were on the tip of my tongue. But I held them back.

  As she continued to recount the details, down to the story about the lady in front of her with at least a month’s worth of food and all she needed to do was pay for a cake- I only wanted her to be quiet. I had a massive headache- likely because I’d spent two days crying, drinking and not eating - and the foggy feeling in my mind made it damn near impossible to keep up with the details of her drama.

  Mostly, I just didn’t want to have to deal with anyone. I was there. Working like I was supposed to be. But life was more about existence. I was in a fog and trying to get through the day. Survival. That’s what I had to focus on. Unfortunately, that meant listening to drivel from people I didn’t know.

  “Uh-huh,” I nodded for the tenth time, planning my escape route as she prepared her lips to continue. “I think I have an order up in the window,” I threw out before she could say anything else and slipped away from the table. The relief washed over me, but I knew it would be short lived.

  I didn’t dislike my job. Being a waitress wasn’t always bad. I made good money for the most part. And typically I was upbeat and happy. That made customers like me and I enjoyed them and their chatter. I spent a lot of the slow days bantering with people I didn’t know. It made life a little less dull.

  But it wasn’t a typical day. I was nowhere near able to handle the idle chit chat that my customers needed and wanted. The pain deep in my gut was constantly eating away at me. It came out as anger and irritation at anyone else. I was grouchy and bitchy and I damn well knew it.

&n
bsp; I’d almost called in sick. Almost. The loud and obnoxious sound of the alarm had startled me from one of the good dreams I was having- a fact that landed it against the far wall of my room- and I’d debated calling in and spending my day dozing in and out of slumber again and trying to find moments of hope in the despondency.

  The only thing that had held me back was the impending slew of bills that I was now responsible for on my own. Even as slow as I knew it could be, I knew that I’d make a decent amount of money- and it was sorely needed.

  But it meant people.

  There was a dining room full of random people and their chatter about nonsense. My whole world had collapsed and I’m supposed to stand, nod and smile at someone’s worry that the cake might arrive after the guests. I had the same problem with friends. I was expected to live up to the person that they wanted me to be. But I was unraveling a little at a time and their petty problems didn’t even begin to register on my scale.

  I couldn’t count the number of times I’d wanted to tell them to shut up when I felt like this. Every time he had left I was forced to exist in a world that I didn’t want to be in. I had to smile and pretend I cared about anything except the gaping hole inside of me. I would find myself avoiding people. Staying away from them.

  I wondered how people coped with it. I couldn’t understand how anyone could deal with life altering situations and still cope as if it was all in a normal day. I hadn’t been able to master that skill. I struggled with everything when I was falling apart. Working. Socializing. Keeping up with obligations. There were days that remembering to shower and change clothes took all of the effort that I had.

  Lucky for me there were no children or pets to tend to. They probably wouldn’t make it.

  Once when Spencer had departed out of the blue I had been working in an office. It was dark and dreary and made me feel claustrophobic. Only three other people worked there and they had separate spaces so I spent my days in silence doing menial tasks. It was a temporary job and paid well, so I’d kept it.