All We Were

by Grace, Elisabeth

  I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into me, wishing we could stay here forever.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  LIlah

  Today is not a good day.

  I don’t know why. Some days, it’s easier than others to resist temptation. Some mornings I wake up knowing I’ll make it through the day without a drink or using, and others it’s a struggle before I have my morning coffee—like every minute of the day drags on like an hour and each second, I’m thinking of ways to score.

  Today is one of those days.

  The fact I’m alone in the house, since Jimmy had a meeting with his agent this morning, doesn’t help. I’ve swum my laps, cleaned the house, had a shower, and prepped the chicken like Jimmy told me to. Anything to keep my hands and my mind busy. None of it is working. The familiar need claws inside me like a hungry beast demanding to be fed.

  There’s not a meeting for another hour and I’m afraid if I leave early, I’ll just end up at a bar rather than a church basement. I contemplate calling the leader of the NA group I usually go to. Since I’ve yet to find a sponsor I really connect with, he gave me his number.

  So, I sit with my legs pulled up to my chest and my arms wrapped around them, rocking back and forth on the couch, trying to will away the need.

  Eventually I decide to try using some of the meditation practices they taught me in Utah. I don’t bother to move off the couch and sit the way you’re supposed to, too afraid that I’ll reach for my car keys if I move an inch. Instead I attempt to retreat to the silent, peaceful place inside of myself—the one I found when I was there, away and free from distractions and stressors.

  After I don’t know how many deep inhales and long exhales, I do eventually find peace.

  A hand lands on my shoulder and I rear back.

  “Sorry.” Jimmy waves his hands.

  My hand flies to my chest, and I exhale a short breath to ease my racing heart. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “What are you doing?”

  I frown. I hate that I might disappoint him by telling him the truth. “I’m having a hard day. I was meditating.”

  He matches my frown and sits down beside me. Guilt flares inside me for worrying him, but instead of pushing away the unwanted feeling, I allow myself to recognize it. I have to be honest with him on this journey if we have any chance of making it to the other side together.

  “What can I do to help?” he asks, taking my hands.

  “Nothing.” I give him a small smile. “This is all me.”

  The crease between his eyes deepens. “There must be something I can do.”

  “Well, you can drive me to my meeting so I don’t make any random pit stops.”

  His worried eyes say my joking tone didn’t gentle the delivery. “Done.”

  My shoulders sag in relief that he doesn’t want to talk this out. “Thanks.”

  He squeezes my hands. “Did something happen that upset you?”

  I shake my head. “No, not at all. Some days are just harder than others. Some days it’s like I’m torturing myself and it’s easy to forget the why.”

  “Hey.” He raises his index finger to my chin and nudges me to look at him. “Do me a favor, as cheesy as this is going to sound. Close your eyes.”

  I raise my eyebrows.

  He rolls his eyes. “Just do it.”

  I do as he asks.

  “I want you to picture ten years from now. Picture yourself, how you look, where you’re living, who you’re with… what kind of life are you living?”

  I’ve never been one to look too far ahead. Eventually I do see an image of myself nearing forty. My hair is shorter and I’m in good health, which shows with a few more curves. I’m not in California, but I don’t know where I am. I’m happy and content. A man and two kids are running around a huge yard.

  “Do you see it? Do you see the life you want?” he whispers.

  I nod slowly. I suck in a breath, the visual clearing like a camera focusing. Jimmy’s smile as he chases and pulls a child in a fit of giggles into his arms. Another one latches onto his leg. All three look back at me, waving. All the current sins and destruction of our past are long behind us.

  I blink open my eyes and meet his gaze. “I saw it.”

  “That’s why you’re doing this. Any time you find yourself wondering that or struggling to push away temptation, picture that future. That is your why.”

  * * *

  I drop the tin foil and it falls to the kitchen floor. “Shit.”

  “Everything okay in here?” Jimmy walks into the kitchen.

  “Yeah, the steam from the lasagna just got me when I took the foil off.” I close the oven door and pick up the tin foil.

  “Can I do anything to help?” He leans over me, taking the foil from my hands and kissing my neck. “It smells delicious.”

  I swivel my head to look at him. “Are you talking about the lasagna?”

  He laughs, circling me with his arms. “No.” I lightly slap his chest, and his arms grow tighter. “Damn Tripp.”

  I shake my head. “Take the salad out to the table on the deck.”

  “Sure thing.” He kisses me one more time, his lips falling down my neck. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” I sink into his strong arms for a moment. “Now, go.”

  He laughs.

  I remove the garlic bread from the packaging. “Oh, and leave the Saran Wrap on until we’re ready to eat!”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  “Smartass,” I mumble.

  Tripp is coming over tonight, and if my hands would stop shaking, that’d be great. I’ve been too afraid to ask Jimmy whether Tripp was receptive to coming here tonight. All I can control is me. At the end of the day, he doesn’t have to accept my apology. He’s entitled to his feelings.

  I shove the wrapper into the garbage and place the frozen garlic bread on a baking sheet. My eyes land on the clock on the microwave. Tripp will be here any minute.

  Lasagna is a little hearty for California, but it’s one of the few dishes I can make. I have enough on my mind today, and I didn’t want to stress too hard on dinner.

  The doorbell rings, Tripp having let himself in through the gate. I glance at the sliding doors. Jimmy is out on the deck, on his phone. Guess it’s time.

  I will my racing heart to settle down, reminding myself to control what I can control. I grip the doorknob, inhale one calming breath, and I open the door. Tripp stands there with a wary expression, which I’ll concede as a good sign since it’s not his usual scowl when I’m around.

  “Hi, Tripp.”

  He nods and steps into the house. “Lilah. How are you doing?”

  “Good… better…”

  A small smile tilts the corner of his lips and he shoves his hands into his shorts’ pockets. We stand there awkwardly for a moment, neither of us saying a word.

  “Come on in. Dinner is almost ready. Jimmy is on the phone, but I’m sure he’ll be done soon.” At least I hope so. God, this is so awkward.

  “Something smells good,” he says, following me into the kitchen.

  “I’m making lasagna.” My cheeks heat. It’s completely ridiculous to invite someone over for lasagna in the middle of summer. “I know it’s weird to have it in the summer—”

  “Are you kidding me? Do you know how long it’s been since I ate a home-cooked meal?” He sits at the breakfast bar while I open the oven door.

  The weight on my shoulders lightens. He’s trying. That knowledge eases the anxiety creeping over my skin.

  “Jimmy mentioned that the band has been back in the studio, working on a new album?” I close the oven and turn around to face him.

  “Yeah, the record company wants something new out by the end of the year.”

  “How’s it going?” I walk over to the fridge.

  “We’ve been able to lay down a few tracks. Nothing that’s going to go platinum though.”

  I open the fridge door and spin to face him.
“Do you want something to drink? We don’t have…”

  Tripp waves me off. “Water’s good.”

  I grab two bottles of water and place one in front of him. The sound of the sliding glass door opening causes us both to look into the living room.

  Jimmy walks in with a forced smile. “Sorry, man. Adelaide called, and we were catching up.”

  I tense. Jimmy’s been clear that they formed a friendship while working together and I’m secure that Jimmy and I are more solid than we’ve been in years, but the insecurities and jealousy plague me whenever he mentions her name.

  He and Tripp do that handshake thing guys do when they kind of hug but not really. Then Jimmy comes around to my side, wraps one arm around my shoulder, and leans in to give me a chaste kiss on the lips.

  “No worries, Lilah and I were just catching up.”

  Jimmy nods. “How’s recording going?”

  “Meh.” Tripp shrugs. “How’s Adelaide?”

  “All right, I guess. She was telling me about a movie role she’s been offered. Wanted to run it by me and see what I thought.”

  Neither Tripp nor I ask for details. I’ve been around long enough to know that loose lips sink ships in this business and nothing is final until the ink is dry on the contract.

  “Lilah, did James ever tell you how he tried to set me up with Adelaide?” Tripp laughs and sips from his water bottle.

  “You did?” I look at Jimmy.

  “I thought maybe I could get this guy to settle down, but neither one of them was into it.”

  I mock astonishment. “You mean the great Tripp Savage, rock god, couldn’t win over a woman? Has hell frozen over too?”

  “Right?” Tripp grins, and Jimmy laughs.

  Our conversation turns light and easy through dinner, which is more than I could have hoped for.

  Then again, I haven’t gotten to the hard part yet.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Jimmy

  I didn’t hold out much hope that Tripp and Lilah could be civil to each other tonight. So, I’m shocked that we manage to finish dinner without either of them snipping at the other.

  When I invited Tripp to join us, I explained the reason why and urged him to come with an open mind and be ready to start over. He seemed receptive. Wonders never cease.

  “That was great, babe, thanks,” I say, leaning over.

  She meets me halfway to share a chaste kiss, and before our lips meet, our eyes lock and I notice the undercurrent of nerves.

  The time is here.

  “Thanks.” She leans back in her chair, looking across the table at Tripp. “I’m assuming Jimmy mentioned why I wanted you to come by tonight?”

  He nods slowly. “Yeah.” He crumples his napkin and tosses it on the table.

  “Before I say what I need to say, I want to explain a few things.” She takes a deep breath and reaches out in front of her, using her hands to steady herself.

  What the hell is she going to say?

  “The first time my father sexually abused me, I was eight.”

  Bile rises up my throat and I swallow it back. My hand shoots out and grabs hers, squeezing. “Lilah, you don’t have to do this.”

  Tears prick her eyes and her lips press together when she looks at me. “I do.”

  I glance across the table at Tripp, whose face is pure white.

  “I don’t know how much of our past Jimmy has shared with you, but growing up, all we really had was each other. My mom died in childbirth, and his mom left when he was young. We lived on the side of a mountain in the Appalachians. It was its own little community of sorts, but no one had any money. We were lucky we even got to catch the bus and ride almost an hour to school every day.

  “Anyway, like I said, I was eight the first time it happened. Jimmy was the only bright spot in my life. Without him, I never would have survived. If I was hungry, he scavenged for food for me to eat. If I was cold, he lent me some of his own outdoor gear to stay warm. If I was upset about stuff going on at home, he’d drag me out of the house and force me to go on an adventure with him.”

  For the first time, she makes eye contact with Tripp. He hasn’t interrupted or even looked as though he wants to. It’s clear she needs to say whatever it is she’s leading up to here.

  For a second, panic grips my insides, turning them cold—surely, she’ll stop before… no, there’s no way.

  I squeeze her hand, silently urging her to continue.

  “I didn’t tell you all of that to excuse my behavior, not at all. I’m the one who made the choices I did, no one else. I told you so that you’ll understand why it was impossible for me to let him go. He’s a part of me. You might as well have been asking me to cut out my heart, because living without him would have killed me.”

  “I’m so sorry that all that stuff happened to you. No one should ever have to deal with that,” Tripp says, and the sincerity in his voice rings true.

  “I’m the one who owes you an apology. You helped Jimmy clean up so many of my messes, and you were the one to console him when I would hurt him time and time again. Thank you for always looking out for him and for taking care of him when I couldn’t.” A tear trails down her face, and she swipes it away with the back of her hand.

  “You should know that I’m committed to my sobriety. It’s not easy. Some days I’m so close to calling one of my old contacts and going on a bender, it’s scary. But then I imagine my life years from now and what I want it to be”—she glances at me with a small smile and squeezes my hand—“and I do what it takes not to cave into my base instincts to numb myself. And I’ll keep doing whatever I need to to get through each second, each minute, each hour, until I’m stronger.”

  “I’m so proud of you, babe.” I lean in and cup her face.

  I don’t fucking care if Tripp’s here. It takes a lot to lay yourself out like that, and the fact that she can even talk about her past with Tripp here, when she wouldn’t discuss it at all before, shows me the progress she’s making. I kiss her softly, letting the love I have for the strongest woman I’ve ever known pour through me and into her, willing her to feel it too.

  The sound of a chair scraping across the deck draws our attention. Tripp’s risen from his chair and comes around to her other side, reaching for Lilah’s hand and helping her up. He pulls her into a tight hug. Something about that act undoes Lilah, because she sobs into his chest.

  He rubs her back and rocks her. “I’m happy you’re working to get better. I know how much James cares about you.” He pulls back and holds her out from him by the shoulders. “Anything I ever said to you was out of concern for him, but I have to apologize too. There are times that I said some things that were way offside. Why don’t we start fresh from this point forward?”

  She nods, and they share another hug.

  Christ, so much weight lifts from me that I think I could fly. Everything is coming together in my life. I have a movie that’s going to change my career, the woman I’ve loved forever is finally healthy and committed to sobriety, and my best friend made amends with her.

  That “anything is possible” sensation fills me just like the day Lilah and I first walked Santa Monica Pier. Life only gets better from here.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Lilah

  My mascara wand shakes as I raise it to my eyelashes. “Shit.”

  I place my hands on the counter and stare at myself through the mirror. I can do this. If I need to leave at any time, I can. If it becomes too much, Jimmy will understand.

  The pressure of accompanying Jimmy down the red carpet, effectively announcing our relationship to the world, builds. I would rather not face all the people in the industry who know, or think they know, what I’ve been through. I’m not naïve enough to think my name wasn’t splashed all over the press after my overdose. Not when Jimmy ran out of the awards show party.

  Jimmy and I have gone out to eat locally a few times, but this will be the first time I’ve been around alcohol since t
he night of the overdose. With triggers all around me and easy access, I’m testing an atomic bomb.

  The proximity to the stuff shouldn’t matter since I ebb and flow all day, every day between wanting a drink and getting by without one.

  “There.” I put my mascara back in my makeup bag and survey myself. Not bad. My hair is pulled back in a loose bun, and I’ve opted for a simple cat eye with red lips.

  Jimmy offered to have someone come and get me ready, but I insisted on doing it myself. I didn’t want to make small talk, knowing I’d already be nervous.

  I step out of the bathroom and into the walk-in closet to slip on my dress. We went shopping in Beverly Hills last week and found me a red-and-ivory Monique Lhuillier gown. I’ve been lucky enough to wear a lot of designer clothes over the years, but nothing has made me feel more like a beautiful princess than this one. Something I never felt when I was using, no matter how great my makeup looked or what designer I wore.

  I step into the gown and pull the zipper up as high as I can, then I step into my silver heels before leaving the closet. “Can you do my zipper the rest of the way?”

  Jimmy’s hands fall from his bow tie, his mouth hanging open. I can only compare it to what a child might look like spotting Santa Claus—complete wonder and awe.

  “Do I look okay?” I ask, self-consciousness creeping in.

  He steps forward until we’re inches apart and cups my face. I lean into his warm touch and close my eyes.

  “You look stunning,” he says, his voice soft and chock-full of emotion.

  I slowly open my eyes, and they lock with Jimmy’s. Old habits die hard though. I want to look away from the intensity in his eyes, so I force myself to hold his gaze.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “I mean it. You’re a vision.” His thumb traces over my cheek, sending shivers down my spine.

  “You’re really laying it on thick tonight.” A nervous laugh escapes me.