I left Sean’s clothes on the floor, which was once again spiteful and pointless. No doubt a maid would pick them up for him. Then I realized he’d have to leave before a maid could come through, and I allowed myself a smug smile.
When I opened the door, he was blocking the way, his hands leaning on either side of the doorframe. “So let me hire you.”
I rolled my eyes and ducked under his arm. “Not interested. I’m already tearing my hair out having to deal with you once in a while. How quickly do you think it would kill me to watch you self-destruct all the time?”
“I don’t do that all the time,” he defended himself.
“Could have fooled me,” I said to the room at large as I looked for my purse. I found it under one of the couch pillows. I pulled out my phone and ordered an Uber.
“Maybe if you came around more often, you’d see me when I’m actually in a good place instead of only showing up when Randy begs you.”
“That’s funny. I must have missed all the invitations you sent my way.” It was true that I didn’t come around much anymore. Call it self-preservation. I used to be there with him all the time, every step of the way. I had let his life consume mine for quite a while, until I realized that while he was soaring, I was going nowhere. I’d had to pull back. I had to focus on school, then I had to get a job and my own place and live my own life. Even then, I had seen him constantly. But then the drinking started and it had escalated so quickly. I did what I could to keep him away from it, but unless I’d been willing to babysit him constantly, there was no changing it. Watching him implode had sent me into survival mode, separating myself from him even more, but always willing to come running if he called. That’s the position I’d been stuck in ever since.
“You shouldn’t need an invitation!” he shouted at me. “You’re my best friend!”
I turned to look at him, the sight of his bed head reminding me so much of our days in his basement, working out lyrics as he ran his hands through his hair in deep thought. The lump in my throat reappeared. I walked over to him and lifted on my toes so I could wrap him in a hug. His response was strong and immediate, just like always. “You know,” I said as my chin rested on his shoulder, “that street goes both ways. When’s the last time you came around my place?” I let go and turned away, picking up my shoes on my way to the doors.
I went into the tiny lobby and pushed the elevator button, standing there until it dinged and the doors opened.
“I really am sorry, Libby. For all of it.”
I turned back, holding the elevator open. “Will you do me a favor?”
He gave me a heavy-eyed half smile from where he leaned in his doorway. “Anything for my Libby.”
“Just—” I wanted to ask him not to drink anymore. Or not to drink for a month. But I couldn’t ask that. Because he would promise it, and then he’d break his promise and I didn’t know if I could take that. So instead I said, “Next time, will you just leave with Randy?” I was begging. Even I could hear the tears in my voice, and it was pathetic and he might think I was doing it to manipulate him, but I swear I wasn’t.
He struggled to swallow, his face painted in shame as he dropped his eyes and nodded.
I let the door go.
“I just miss you,” he said as the door started to close.
“I don’t know what that means. I’m here. I’m always here.” The soft thud of the doors sealing cut off anything else I could have said, and my words echoed back to me. I was always there for him.
I just wished he could be there for me once in a while.
CHAPTER TWO
After all the disappointments
All the lies and all the trouble
She just stood there being double
What a friend should ever be
With her eyes on the skies
And my head full of whys
The moment she said it I knew
I loved her more than me
—Sean Amity
CHAPTER THREE
I dozed on and off as my Uber took me home. When I wasn’t dozing I was mulling over what had happened. Sean was belligerent, stubborn and, frankly, whiny when he was drunk, but tonight…he’d shoved me away so hard I could have been hurt, and then he’d hit on me.
Hitting on me was a new low for him. No matter what bad decisions he made, he’d always treated me like a person, never being insulting or downright nasty. Until tonight.
A deep sigh escaped me.
Sean’s hotel had been in the heart of the city. It was an hour-and-a-half drive back to Newburgh. This was what the record label did when he was in town for work. They put him in a hotel, the better to keep tabs on him and keep him focused. His house out in the country with the gate and the housekeeper was only thirty minutes from my apartment. He’d done that on purpose, to stay close to me. Sometimes I resented it. Most of the time I was grateful, even though he really wasn’t there much.
After an hour of driving and failing to come up with any answer about Sean, I remembered Jonas and pulled out my phone. Thankfully it had a little battery left.
Me: Hi Jonas. I can’t apologize enough for ditching you last night. I was enjoying myself and wouldn’t have left if it hadn’t been an emergency. Again, I’m sorry. I wish you all the best.
I didn’t expect a response.
We’d been matched on a dating app that Tara and Felicity had pretty much forced me to sign up for. I had given in because I knew they were right. I needed to get out there, to date, to have my life less wrapped up in Sean. Not that they knew about Sean. We’d become friends my last year of college, and by that time I’d become an expert at keeping my Sean life separate from the rest of my life. Still, they could see how unbalanced my social life was and they’d pushed me to try something new. I’d only gone out with two matches before tonight and both had been duds. Nice enough guys, but no spark. Last night was my first face-to-face meeting with Jonas. He’d been just as cute as his picture and just as funny as our messages back and forth had suggested. And unlike the others, there had been chemistry. Too bad I’d screwed that up.
My phone buzzed and I looked at it in surprise. Jonas was calling me. Not just texting back, but actually calling me.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Hey. I just wanted to check on you. How’s your friend?”
My face was rumpled in confusion at his friendly words. “He’s fine.”
There was a pause. “He, huh? Should I be worried that you ditched me for a booty call?” he teased.
My laughter held no humor whatsoever. “I should probably make it clear that I don’t do booty calls, no matter who is calling.”
“I’ll remember that.” He suddenly sounded cheerier than before. “Seriously though, I wanted to call because your text kind of seemed like a goodbye. Or maybe a brush-off?” He sounded a little unsure of himself. It was sweet.
“If I was going to brush you off, I wouldn’t have answered my phone,” I said. “I’m actually surprised you responded at all. I didn’t exactly make the best first impression.”