Текст книги "Never Say Never"

Автор книги: Emily Goodwin

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

I try, really, but I’m too tired. I slip back into sleep. I take a shallow breath and try to open my eyes again. I can’t. It should alarm me, right? I should be concerned that I’m hardly breathing, unable to sit up, talk, or open my fucking eyes.

But I’m too drugged to worry, too far under to care.

Claire keeps talking to me, shaking me, pulling the covers back, doing anything she can to wake me up. She jostles my body around, and it takes me a minute to realize she’s putting trousers on me. Right. I’m still naked. Cold water splashes my face, doing nothing to rouse me.

I think she’s crying. I hear a door slam and then her talking to someone, words all jumbled. I think of Haley’s soft lips pressing to mine. I don’t understand why she’s not here with me. I want to call to her, tell her to come here and hold me until the dizziness passes and I’m good enough to get up.

I have no sense of time. Claire was just in here, shaking me, and now she’s doing it again. I groan when something tightens around my arm. Voices surround me, male voices. What the fuck? I use everything inside of me to open my eyes.

“Aiden?” someone asks, their face so close I can feel their breath on my skin. “Aiden, can you hear me. Open your eyes if you can hear me.”

“He’s unresponsive,” someone else says. “Get the Narcan.”

“No, I’m not,” I say. Or at least I think that’s what I say. Really, my voice dies in my throat and only a gurgle leaves my lips.

Someone grabs my other arm and a needle pierces my skin. Cold liquid flows through my veins. Within seconds I’m able to open my eyes. There are three people crowded around the bed. One holds an IV bag while the other two assess me. Claire’s at the foot of the bed, her hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes.

“What the fuck?” I spit as I try to sit up. I’ve come to, but I’m weak. I push the IV guy back.

“Sir, you need to calm down.”

“Don’t call me sir,” I say, pushing him away again. I hate being called sir. I think. I don’t know, and I don’t care. All I know is he’s pissing me the fuck off just by being here next to me.

“Aiden,” Claire calls. “Calm down.”

“Blood pressure is still low,” another EMT says. “Let’s take him in.”

“No!” I yell, and I start pulling at the IV in my arm. All three EMTs swarm me, holding me down. “Get the fuck off me!” Why are they here? I’m fine. I need to go…somewhere. I can’t recall where, but I know I have shit to do. “Get off me!” I struggle against their arms.

“It’s okay,” I hear Claire say over my struggle. “Aiden, calm down. We just want to take care of you!”

“I’m fucking fine!” Don’t they see that? What the fuck? Everything is annoying me, getting under my skin. My stomach twists, and I stop fighting, only to turn my head and throw up. Hardly anything comes up, but my body retches two more times. And now I’m shaking, gasping for air.

“Did you check his sugar?” one EMT says. I’m too busy dry-heaving to hear the response, but I feel a sharp prick in my finger.

“Sixty-one.”

“Aiden,” another EMT says slowly. “When was the last time you ate?”

What the fuck does that matter? And I have no clue. I still don’t know what they are doing here, why I’m being harassed for no reason. I’m fine. They need to get the fuck out of here.

“I’ll call it in,” a female EMT says. “We need to get him out of here.”

“No,” I protest when I see them bring the gurney over. “I’m not going to the fucking hospital.”

“I really think you should go,” an EMT says, and his persisting patience annoys me even more. “Just to get checked out. It’ll be a quick trip.”

I’m not a fucking child. I’m not falling for that shit. “No, I’m not going,” I say between retching. I’m shaking and cold, and my mouth is so dry and my throat is burning. Claire pushes through the EMTs and bends over. Tears fall from her eyes. I’ve never seen her look at me with that much fear before.

“Please, Aiden. Let them take you. You’re not well.”

“I’m fine,” I grumble, leaning back and reaching for the line in my arm. I want to tear it out.

“Aiden,” she says again as she pushes my hair back. It’s stuck in my mouth and covered with frothy vomit. I jerk away.

“Give him a minute,” one of the EMTs says. “It’s normal for patients to be angry and agitated.”

“He’s not okay.” She shakes her head and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’ve seen him bad before, but never like this. What did you take, Aiden?”

I let my head fall back and take a deep breath. I feel like shit. Complete and total shit. Everything aches, my head pounds, and I can’t stop shaking. I want another pain pill to make me pass out and not wake until my fucking body feels better.

My phone rings, and despite the hazy shitstorm going on in my mind, I know only one person is calling me this early.

Haley.

I reach out for the phone. I have no idea where it is. I keep my phone in my pocket, and I’m not wearing the jeans I had on last night. When did I take them off?

“Get that,” I say to Claire.

She takes a few steps and picks up my clothes off the floor. “I’ll take a message,” she says.

“No, give it to me!”

“You really want Haley to talk to you when you’re like this?”

I don’t care how I am. I need to hear her voice. I need to know she’s okay, that those horrible things I thought of really didn’t happen. I need to know she still loves me, even though my life is a fucking mess and I’m lying in my bed, covered in my own vomit.

I need her.

Claire just shakes her head and silences the call. “You don’t want her to witness this, not even over the phone. You’re not well, Aiden. You have a problem.”

“I’m fine,” I say for the millionth time. When will she get it? What the hell kind of problem did I have? I. Am. Fine. “I’m not going to the hospital. I refuse to let you take me.”

The EMTs look at each other, and I know they can’t force me to do anything against my will. I need a shower, water, and a protein bar and I’ll be fine. My normal hangover cure. It’s worked before; it’ll work now. And I need it fast. There is a reason I’m here in L.A. and not with Haley. Ah, fuck. I’ll remember it later.

“Aiden,” the female EMT says, kneeling down. “You overdosed on something. We gave you medication to counteract the overdose, but until we know what and how much is in your system, you’re still in danger. Your blood pressure and sugar levels are low. It would really be in your best interest to go to the hospital and get checked out, okay?”

“No,” I say shortly. “I’m bloody fine, dammit.”

“Can’t you just take him?” Claire asks, and they say something I can’t hear. Claire relaxes and looks down at me. “Aiden, you’re going to the hospital. I know you don’t want to, but please, cooperate. Do it for Haley.”

Haley.

My eyes flutter closed and I see her face before me. We’re on the horses again, running through the woods. Wind blows her hair, and she turns around, her eyes locking with mine for a second before turning back.

Haley.

I left her because I have to work. The sooner I work, the sooner I can get back to her. “No,” I say.

The EMTs meet eyes again, nonverbally deciding what to do. They’re going to leave, that’s what, because I’m fucking fine. Then I hear one of them say something about restraints.

Another chill rolls through me and exhaustion hits. Suddenly I’m scared. What the hell did I take last night? I don’t want to be sick. I nod my head just as an EMT lowers the gurney. They’re taking me after all and had always planned to. The hesitation wasn’t because I was refusing. It was in hopes I’d come to my senses and not be a pain in the arse.

“I can walk,” I say, knowing the spectacle it will be if I’m taken away on a bed, loaded into the back of the ambulance. I’m sure a small crowd has already gathered.

“That’s not a good idea,” Claire says, like she’s afraid they might let me. Of course they don’t, and soon I’m strapped in and being wheeled outside the house. I don’t look to see who’s watching.

I go in and out of consciousness on the way to the hospital. Claire is in the back of the ambulance with me, feverishly texting on her phone, sending messages and canceling events. I don’t see her once I’m in the ER. I can hardly stay awake as I go through a battery of tests. Things start to get hazy again, and I pass out or fall asleep, not waking until I’m in a room.

Claire and my agent are there. Ah, fuck. I realized I’m screwed the same time I realize I’m lonely, so fucking lonely. I’m Aiden Shepherd. Popular, loved by millions, with loyal, devoted fans. I hang out with other rich and famous actors, date super models…yet no one knows me. No one cares.

“Aiden?” Claire asks softly. “Can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” I croak. I’m hooked up to machines and have wires attached to all parts. “What happened?”

“You overdosed,” Thomas says point blank. He looks pissed. Claire’s still scared and worried. “You’re goddamn lucky your assistant found you when she did. She saved your life.”

“I would have been fine,” I say, and I try to smile. I’m so weak, it’s hard to even keep my eyes open.

“No, you wouldn’t have.” Thomas pushes off the register he was leaning against. “I saw the tox report. You had three different narcotics, sleeping pills, and a high blood alcohol content. What the hell were you thinking?”

I was thinking about the horrible things that could happen to Haley. I don’t know why those thoughts went through my head. I don’t want them to. But I can’t stop them. Once those thoughts settle in and take over, the pain starts. I had to stop it before it hurt me.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I mumble. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t care what you did or didn’t mean to do,” Thomas says. “People don’t mean to overdose most of the time. They just do, and let me repeat how lucky you are someone found you.”

I close my eyes again. “I’m fine now. I can work.”

Thomas lets out a snort. “No. You’re not well enough yet. It’s already been handled. You’re in the hospital with dehydration and exhaustion. You were sick all week, so this works. The fans love you, and you’re getting a lot of sympathy. You’re lucky, kid.”

I hate when he calls me that. It’s his way of reminding me I’m new at this, that he knows much more than I do and I need to shut up and listen. Maybe he’s right. I sigh and nod.

“Thanks,” I say, and both Thomas and Claire look stunned. “I can do a video update for the show,” I offer.

“That’s actually a good idea,” Thomas says. “Let me make a call.” He leaves the room, and a nurse comes in to check on me. I’m recovering well and am allowed to eat lunch. The mention of food makes me realize how hungry I am.

Claire sits on a chair next to the bed once the nurse leaves. “Haley called,” she says. “I don’t know if you remember that.”

“I don’t. I don’t remember anything. Just waking up here.”

“That’s probably good.”

I turn my head. “Thanks, Claire.”

She shrugs. “It’s what I do. And if you die, I’m out of a job.”

I smile. “Nice.”

She looks up, blinking away tears. “Aiden, you need help. You can’t keep doing this.”

“I won’t do it again,” I say. “I can stop when I want. I don’t always take the pills.”

Claire presses her lips together, not believing me. “It’s okay to ask for help,” she says softly, and I’m reminded of something similar I said to Haley. Or had she said it to me? Fuck. I still can’t think straight.

“I don’t need help,” I say. I just need Haley. I lean back on the stiff hospital pillow. “Do you have my phone?”

She digs it out of her oversized bag and hands it to me. I have a slew of messages from my so-called friends asking if I’m okay. They don’t really care about me, but they want me to care about them, so I will invite them to a Shadowland party. It’s the most successful TV show in history. The last premiere shattered records. I’m starring in this new movie based off a book that sat at #1 on the New York Times best sellers list for two solid months. I’m doing as well as any new actor can be.

I unlock my phone and open my pictures. I only have a few of Haley. The first one, with us around Aurelia, another of her right after sex, holding the sheets over her breasts, her hair a mess, giving me a why-the-hell-are-you-taking-my-picture look, and two taken before I left. She’s smiling in one, and the other is a badly positioned selfie of us kissing. My eyes were closed and I cut off half my face. At least I can see her.

“What are you going to tell her?” Claire asks.

I shake my head. “I don’t know.” I flick my eyes up. I haven’t said anything to Claire, or to anyone, but she knows how much Haley means to me. If it were just sex, I’d go back to the hotel and then back to L.A. once I got a week off work. I wouldn’t leave the hotel for a farmhouse with weak Wi-Fi and no one to run my errands and bring me espresso when I wanted it. And I never would stay at the house, alone, while Haley went to work. I wouldn’t sit out in the barn, talking to a damaged horse with scars from a fire along her neck, if I didn’t care about Haley.

“The truth is a good place to start.” Claire stands. I nod and look back at the phone. I’m not afraid to tell Haley the truth. I never have been, and I’ve never felt judgment from her. She believes in second chances, after all. She believes that the worst of the worst can be healed with time and love, and can go on to live a life worth living.

Have I already had my second chance? The heart monitor beeps a little faster when I think about that night. Before I cut myself, before I decided I wanted to die, I hid under my bed with a pillow over my ears, drowning out the sound of my mum crying and my dad yelling. Mum said she knew what he’d done to me—what he’d been doing to me—and knew he wasn’t going to stop. I couldn’t hide the bruises forever. She was calling the police. The fight went on for hours, and the police never came.

When I left my room to get the knife, I could hear the moaning and groaning coming from Mum and Dad’s room. She’d forgiven him, like she always had, and like she always would. She’d chosen him over me yet again, because I didn’t matter. I’d never matter.

I shut my eyes and the darkness consumes me. I remember it all clearly. The cold steel blade of the knife pressing into my skin. I hesitated, afraid of the pain. I didn’t want to feel hurt. I just wanted it to end. The little pain I was about to feel was worth the infinite black that would take over. I closed my eyes and dragged the knife along my skin. I hadn’t pressed down hard enough. I bled, but it wasn’t not enough. The pain, the blood, it excited me. Each drop that spilled out was bringing me closer and closer to the end.

I lined the knife back on the red track, pushed, and sliced. It stung, and the pain radiated up my arm. The knife clattered to the ground, slipping out of my fingers. The pain, the years of hurt and abuse, poured out of me as the blood rushed down, dripping onto the bedroom floor.

Moonlight reflected off the crimson and I watched, waiting, wanting to feel my life slip away. I held my arm out, wanting it to drain faster. I wanted to die. I couldn’t find the knife in the dark. I felt around for it, holding my bleeding arm out. As soon as my fingers wrapped around the blade, my sister came into the room.

Lucky.

That’s what they said. Lucky she found me, lucky she was only eighteen but had enough sense to wrap my wound and take me to the hospital. Lucky my heart didn’t give up when so much of my blood had left my body. I hadn’t felt lucky.

It was an accident. I didn’t really try to kill myself. Why would someone like me be depressed? The doctors and nurses questioned me over and over, but I stuck with the lie Dad had decided was the truth. Sometimes I think he actually believed it. Being depressed was a choice, he’d say. I was being dramatic and needed to stop. Asking for help several weeks before that was a cry for attention. He wasn’t going to waste his hard-earned money on a crackpot therapist. And I cut myself to make a mess and get a rise out of my mother. I didn’t really want to die. People like me didn’t get depressed.

Someone knocks on the door then immediately enters. “Hi, Aiden,” a nurse says. “How are you doing? You’re heart rate went up.”

I look at the monitors. Right. They could see everything on computer screens in the nurses’ station. “Yeah, just in pain. Can I get something for it?”

She presses her lips together. “I can get you a Tylenol. The doctor won’t prescribe anything stronger.”

I glare at her and she smiles apologetically. Right. I’m now labeled a drug-seeking patient. Well, I am. I just want to forget the darkness and go to sleep. “When can I leave? I want to go home.”

“I’ll page the doctor and see if he can talk to you. He wanted to keep you under observation.”

“I won’t stay all day,” I say flatly then feel bad for being an arse. She’s done nothing to me.

“I’ll let the doctor know.” She leaves and my phone rings. For the few seconds it takes for me to pick it up and turn it over, I hope it’s Haley, though I know I shouldn’t answer. I should just cut myself off and let her move on, find somebody better, someone who won’t break promises and isn’t constantly fighting the darkness.

I grunt and decline the call. It’s Kennedy. Not interested in talking to her. I pull up Haley’s number and Thomas walks back in.

He’s all about my video update idea and takes it further to stream it live to the audience and allow a few questions. It’ll make me seem really devoted to my fans, he says. Someone comes in to do hair and makeup, making me look not as sick as I really am.

By the time we’re done, I’m exhausted for real. The same nurse from before comes in and shoos everyone from the room. She assesses me then leaves, saying I need to rest. She’s patient and kind, and I think she knows what’s really going on, despite me saying I accidentally took the wrong pills. She closes the door and I lie back. I close my eyes and fall asleep before I can call Haley. She’s on my mind as I drift to sleep, and I dream of being with her and know that I can’t. I broke one promise, and I’ll do it again. I can’t subject Haley to the darkness inside of me. She’s too good for it, too good for me.

I am undeniably in love with her. She is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and she deserves so much more than I can ever give her. Walking away might be cruel, but staying is even worse. She’s beautifully broken and I’m a fucking mess. Pieces of me are scattered everywhere, dripping with blood and tainted with poison. There’s no putting me back together. I’m not just broken, I’m ruined.

Chapter 25

I call Aiden on my way to work that morning. He’s supposed to be up early for the talk show, and I hope I can catch him before he gets whisked away into hair and makeup. His phone rings only a few times then goes to voicemail. He must be in a location with crappy service. He wouldn’t hang up on me.

I think about him all day and am eager to watch him on the show tomorrow. I’m even more eager for him to get back. I thought about Mom last night, about the fire, and I didn’t have a flashback. Admitting my guilt to him absolved me of some of the dark horror that surrounded me. Aiden makes everything better. I am so completely in love with him.

He doesn’t call me back by the time I get home from work. Assuming he’s still busy with filming or meeting with his agent, I don’t worry and instead go about my day. I change into barn clothes then start chores.

As soon as I step foot into the barn, I know something is wrong. The smell of blood hits me, and I run to Phoenix’s stall.

“Oh shit.” I go through a moment of panic, not knowing if I should call the vet or get bandages first. “Hang on, sweetheart,” I tell her, and I rush into the tack room to grab gauze and disinfectant. Somehow she scraped off the large scab—that was almost healed—on her neck and is bleeding. Badly.

I clean up the blood the best I can to assess the damage. She’s missing a large section of her skin, a section larger than my hand. I cover the area with antibiotic ointment and padded bandages, then wrap her neck with gauze. I wipe the blood off my hands and call Dr. Wells.

She says she would have done everything I did, and there is no reason for me to have to pay for a barn call unless Phoenix takes a turn for the worse. I can give her an increased does of pain meds and need to keep her inside for a few days to allow the wound to heal.

I hang up, already shaken up, and now I’m worried that I haven’t heard from Aiden. He’ll call. I know he will. After all, he promised he’d never hurt me, and I believe him.

I spend the rest of the night in the barn, keeping my phone tucked in my bra so I won’t miss a call, a call that never comes. I text Aiden, asking if he’s okay, and go over all the excuses I can for him.

He lost his phone, or it’s dead and he doesn’t have the charger. I know that’s a bullshit excuse; he can send Claire to get him one. Maybe he’s so tired from being sick he’s sleeping, or maybe he took more pills and passed out.

Unease grows inside of me, and I toss and turn all night. I wake up and call him again, sure he will answer. I get one ring then his voicemail. I leave a message, asking if he’s okay, asking for him to call me back and just let me know what the hell is going on.

But I get nothing.

I should have known this was coming. I should have known he’d break all his promises and leave me. When something seems too good to be true, it is.

A week passes and I hear nothing from Aiden. I’ve called him twice, and texted him five times. That is more than enough. I’m worried about him as much as I’m pissed at him, and I put his name in for Google Alerts. I don’t want to find out through the grapevine if he got arrested for a DUI or something.

My alarm goes off that morning, and I break down as soon as I open my eyes. I want to go back to sleep, back to the black where nothing hurts. I want the hurt to end. I can’t take much more, and I don’t know how long I will last.

The alarm beeps for ten minutes, but the noise is drowned out by my crying. I don’t want to get up and face the world. I don’t want to get up and be reminded how alone I am, how stupid I am for believing Aiden’s lies, for falling for him.

I drag myself out of bed for them, the horses who will never judge me and never leave me. I’m on autopilot as I go down the stairs, not changing out of my pajamas yet. Everyone whinnies a hello…everyone except Phoenix. I blink, my eyes puffy and swollen from crying so much, and look down the barn aisle. She’s standing in the back of her stall, head down, and not moving.

If my heart weren’t ground into dust, it would break for her. But there is nothing left. Nothing. Just a cold, dark pit in my chest.

I go through the motions of feeding, tossing hay to everyone, filling up water buckets, and dishing out grain. I give everyone breakfast then sit on a hay bale, hands in my lap, unmoving, until the sound of chomping grain quiets. They’re done eating and can be let out.

I blink and push up, ignoring the growling coming from my stomach. It’s odd, being physically hungry but having no drive to feed myself. Skipping one meal wasn’t going to hurt me…again.

I let Benny, Shakespeare, Sundance, Gandolf, and then Aurelia into the side pasture. I watch, making sure the foal doesn’t get bullied, though I doubt I’d be able to do anything in time if she were. It takes everything inside of me to keep on my feet and keep going.

I open Phoenix’s door last and step aside, waiting for her to come out. When she doesn’t, I move inside and see she hasn’t touched her hay or grain from this morning. And most of last night’s hay is still there.

“Phoenix,” I whisper as I go back into the barn and enter her stall from the aisle. “You have to eat, sweetheart.”

The patch of flesh she scraped off hasn’t healed. It doesn’t look any different from how it did days ago. Fuck. It looks worse.

“Eat, Phoenix,” I say, nudging her feed dish. She pushes her ears back.

“You have to eat if you want to get better. Just eat, dammit!” Tears fill my eyes, blurring my vision of the horse. “I can’t give up, so you can’t give up! Just please, eat! I’m doing everything I can! I’m sorry it’s not enough. I sorry I’m not enough. Why are you doing this to me?” I slump down in the stall, crying.  “I can’t lose anyone else.”

And then it hits me like a knife to the heart. I’m not mad at Phoenix. I’m mad at him. He let me in, made me happy, told me he loved me…and then he left without a second look back. He picked me up when I was a million tiny pieces of broken glass, put me back to together, and then threw me into darkness where I broke into a million more.

And there’s no coming back after that. After getting my heart shattered over and over until there is nothing left.

The sobs pour out of me, shaking my body. I bring my hands to my face, catching teardrops. Why did I let this happen? I knew it would end in the worst kind of pain for me, yet I let him fool me. I hate him. I hate Aiden Shepherd with every fiber of my being.

I get to work half an hour late. My eyes are red and no one says anything. They know Aiden and I haven’t spoken, but no one knows the extent of my heartache. No one knows how much I let him in. They whisper, say I’ve grieved over my mother long enough and it’s time to move on, but no one says anything to me.

Halfway through the day, Mr. Weebly calls me into his office.

“Have a seat,” he says. I’m wearing a scoop-neck black shirt, and he’s not eyeing my breasts. I should worry I’m in trouble, but I don’t. Just like the first time I took a seat in this chair, I feel nothing. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I say automatically.

He just nods and lets out a dramatic breath. “I read the article you turned in. It was rather dark.”

“Depression is a dark problem,” I start.

“We don’t publish stuff like that,” he says slowly. “It might make people uncomfortable.”

“That’s the point,” I say back. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. People suffer in silence every day because they’ve been told their issue is something to be ashamed of.”

He nods. “Maybe in a bigger city, but here, it won’t go over so well.”

I swallow. I want to feel angry, offended. Something. But nothing comes up. I stare at Mr. Weebly blankly and blink. “Okay.”

“You want to bring awareness to something? Write about how walking along the mountain trails can be heart-healthy.”

I move my head up and down. “Okay.”

He leans forward. “Are you sure you’re all right, Haley? Maybe you should take the rest of the day off, gather your thoughts and come back tomorrow, well rested with a clear head.”

Another nod. “Okay. I should.” I stand and turn toward the door. “Thanks,” I say, forcing a smile. I go back to my desk, finish the article I’m working on, then leave without a word to anyone. Shondra calls after me as I hurry through the lobby, but I don’t slow, don’t stop and turn around. I need out of here.

I sink into the driver’s seat of the Jeep. My body shudders with a sob, but there are no tears left. I stick the keys in the ignition and start the car.

My phone rings on the drive home. My purse is on the floor behind me and I can’t get to it. I’m not anxious to get it anyway. It’s Lori checking in on me, and I don’t want to fake another laugh and lie to her, telling her I’m sad but okay.

I’m not okay, not at all. And I never will be.

I change into jeans, boots, and a t-shirt as soon as I get home. If I stick to my mental to-do list, I can get through the day. I close my eyes. The list. First thing is Phoenix. I left her Dutch door open this morning, giving her the option to stay in and out of the sun or go outside. She’s still in her stall. I treat her wounds, then sit in the stall with her, resting my head on my knees.

I long for Aiden’s arms to wrap around me. I shake my head at myself. His fake embrace means nothing. My throat tightens. I will not cry. He is not worth another tear. He never loved me. He’s a liar, a liar who promised he’d never leave me, never hurt me.

He did all that and more, and I will never be the same.

Phoenix shuffles closer. “I’m not going anywhere,” I tell her. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t been here for you—again—like I should. You and me, we’re destined to crawl through hell. But I won’t give up on you, Phoenix. Not now, not ever. This is your second chance, and I’m going to make sure I give it to you.”

She presses her muzzle into my neck. I wrap my arms around her head and hold her, tears pooling in my eyes. We stay like that for a minute before she pulls away and eats her hay. She eats a bowl of grain that I give her, then turns and slowly walks out of her stall, joining the other horses in the pasture.

All she needs is to know that someone is here for her and has faith in her. Not having someone to love you, someone to fight for you and tell you they believe in you, makes you feel like the struggle isn’t worth it. I lost my fighter, but she didn’t lose hers.

I go inside and sigh, looking at the bills I tossed on the counter. They aren’t going to go away, and ignoring them doesn’t make my payment any smaller. I grab one from Dr. Wells’ office and tear it open. My hands shake as I unfold it, scared to see the damage and knowing that I have nowhere near the funds to pay it off.

“What?” I say aloud when I scan the bill. “That can’t be right.” I blink and stare at the zeros. I check the date and make sure this is current. It has to be a mistake. There’s no way I owe nothing. Dr. Wells cuts me a break, but I at least have to pay cost for the supplies, and the last time I checked, I owed several thousand dollars.

But this…this is saying I owe nothing at all. It hits me, and my breath catches in my chest, my eyes blurring with tears. I bring my hand to my broken heart, pain ripping me open.

Aiden.

I sink down onto the kitchen floor and clutch the bill, holding it as if I’m somehow holding on to him. I miss him so much it hurts. A sob bubbles up from deep inside, and I crumple up the bill and throw it across the room. He left me. He walked away. He hurt me and broke my heart, even when he promised he wouldn’t.

Couldn’t he leave me alone? Give me a chance to pick up the broken pieces and move on before he shoves himself back into my life. Doing this hurt. Only giving me a piece of him, just enough to make me miss him, to make me long for him, is cruel.