I thanked her for her kindness, and she gave me the hug that I hadn’t even known my soul needed. I continued on my way to throw out my trash as Abigail headed up to her apartment. On my way up, I ran into Ed, who of course was in search of his rent.
“Emery!” he called out, walking my way.
“I know, Ed, I know. I’ll have you the rent tomorrow,” I said, not exactly sure if it were true, but I’d do what I had to do to make it happen. Even if that meant taking out loans for money that would cost me double to pay back.
“You said that you’d have it tonight!” he argued, fuming as his fuzzy brows sat low. “I can’t keep doing this, Emery. This is it!” he barked. His face was a deep red, and I could feel his annoyance. I didn’t blame him. He’d put up with my struggles long enough, and he didn’t have any reason to keep allowing me to slide.
“Just twenty-four hours more, Ed. I swear. I’m selling my car tomorrow to get you the money. Please,” I begged, wiping away the stubborn tears as they danced down my cheeks.
The moment he saw my trembles and shakes, his body relaxed a bit as he grumbled to himself and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Twenty-four hours. After that you and your kid are out, all right? That’s it, Emery. That’s the deal.”
“Deal. Thank you, Ed.”
He muttered something under his breath and waved me off before he walked away.
That night after Reese and I got down on our knees and said our prayers, I kissed her forehead, tucked her into bed, and went to my room for my own good session of falling apart. After I’d had a lengthy private cry, after I’d cracked, I knew I needed something. No. I needed someone. I needed my sister.
As I dialed her number, tears sat at the back of my eyelids.
“Hello?” Sammie answered. Just from the sound of her voice, I began to break, and she must’ve sensed that. “Em? What’s wrong?”
“I lost my job.”
“Oh my gosh, Emery. I’m sorry.”
“Do you think you can come here? I just . . . I need you.”
“Emery . . . ,” she sighed.
“I need you, Sammie. This is all too much. I’m drowning, and I need you here with me. I can’t do this alone.”
The line went silent for a split second, and I felt an overwhelming sense of dread as I went back to begging. “Please, Sammie. I’m struggling. I can’t do this alone. I wouldn’t ask unless I really needed the help and—”
“I can send money,” she offered, her voice cracking now.
“No. I don’t need money, Sammie. I need you. I’ve always been there for you at your lowest . . . please . . . I need you at mine. It can be quick. You don’t even have to see Reese, I swear. I just need you.”
Again, the silence filled the receiver, and I felt a spark of betrayal as Sammie whispered, “I’m sorry, Emery. I just can’t be what you need me to be. I can’t.”
“Sammie—”
I didn’t get to finish my sentence. She hung up, leaving me to feel unbelievably alone. How could she do that? How could she turn her back on me when I’d shown up for her time and time again? The hardest truth to learn in life was that not everyone loved the same way you did. I’d given my sister everything in the past, and all she’d given me was a dropped call.
9
OLIVER
My parents stayed the night and flew out in the early morning. Even though I was certain they were hurting, they didn’t show an ounce of their pain in front of me. If anything, they brought their bright, bubbly personalities that I grew up around and shone their love over my darkness. I was grateful for their light.
Cam had no interest in coming over, as she was still pissed at me for not answering her calls the day prior. She was even more upset that I hadn’t performed at the show, saying she was ready to do a surprise song for the audience. “You didn’t even think of the exposure it could’ve brought my new album,” she scolded. “You never think of me, Oliver.”
Not once did she ask why I wasn’t able to perform.
Not once did she question if I was okay.
Not once did I think that we were destined for happily ever after.
Still, I selfishly needed her. When no one was with me during the nights, I crumbled and gave myself to the bottle. I didn’t want alcohol to be my fix anymore, because it always swallowed me whole and I’d wake the next morning feeling worse off than I had the previous evening.
So, I leaned on Cam coming home each night.
Our whole relationship was based on selfishness. She stayed with me because it made great press for her to be the sweetheart who stayed by my side during my storm, and I stayed with her so I wouldn’t lose myself in the dark.
Toxic? Yes.
Terrible coping mechanism? Also yes.
I sat in my bedroom with large headphones covering my ears. I was home alone, so I turned to music to drown out the noise that was echoing in my head. I had a playlist with over six hundred of my favorite songs that meant something to me—half of which I’d probably learned about from Alex when he’d send me a song a day. I missed getting those songs.
I missed sharing my songs too.
“Oliver? Are you here?” a voice hollered through my house. The voice was loud enough to cut through the music playing in my headphones. I slid them down and placed them around my neck.
I listened to Kelly’s heels click-clacking through my hallways as she grew closer and closer to my bedroom. “Just a wellness check-in! Your mom called and asked me to stop by, and well, I just wanted to stop by, too, after what happened with the show.” She kept her voice loud, and there was a slight tremble in it as she searched for me. “So, if you are here, can you just make a loud noise? Because the idea of walking in on you and finding you not okay is too much for my anxiety.”
I swallowed hard and cleared my throat. “Here!” I shouted. “In my bedroom.”
I swore I heard Kelly’s sigh of relief rocket throughout the space.
She hurried over to my bedroom and gave me a slight smile as she stood in the doorway with a coffee in her hands. Her hair was in a messy bun, and she looked as if she hadn’t slept in days. The puffiness under her eyes showcased her exhaustion.
“Hey, Oliver.”
I nodded once as I sat on the edge of my bed. “Hey.”
She walked over to me and sat down. She handed me the coffee. “Coffee, no whiskey.”
“Then what’s the point?” I joked.
“You okay?” she asked me.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
“Maybe.”
I lowered my head and fiddled with my fingers. Over the past few months, I’d told myself what I was dealing with wasn’t depression but just a temporary sadness that would go away over time. When time passed and it didn’t shift, I knew it was something I’d have to deal with for the rest of my life. Somehow, after Alex passed away, I felt . . . emptied.
I didn’t even know if “depressed” was the word for how I felt. Yet all I knew was that there was an emptiness inside of me and I hadn’t a clue how to fill that vacant place. I felt as if I were walking on broken glass, and I didn’t even feel the pain from the cuts. Everything was numb, everything was mute, everything was meaningless.