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I nod, acknowledging what he’s saying, my mind still swirling with worry.
“Your girl okay?” he asks, breaking the silence.
“Not entirely.” Looking up at the lights hanging from the ceiling, the pent up stress leaves me in a whoosh. I swear that one fucking breath says more than I ever could.
“Call in back up,” Ryland says as if it’s simple. “If you want it bad enough, you can take care of your own from anywhere for a time–as long as at the end of the day–or tour, rather–you come back home.”
Ryland doesn’t say anything more. He just gets up and strides away, headed toward the trashy dressing room this venue put us in.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, my stomach churning at the sight of Ellis’s last texts. She’s been quiet for days. It’s like I can feel her disappearing, and I’m afraid that when I wake up–she will be gone.
There are two kinds of death in this world. There’s the physical one that I experienced with my brother–the same death she experienced with her mom. But there’s an emotional death, too. And both kinds of death take people away.
I don’t want her to be alone or disappear.
Fighting my fear, I click on a name I never touch. When Lennon picks up, I stumble over my words, but it doesn’t matter.
Ryland is right. It’s selfish to think I’m the only one who can take care of my girl. While I’m chasing my dreams, she didn’t once complain even though her world started crumbling around her. Even if I’m not there, Ellis has a whole host of people who love her. She’d never forgive herself if I came home, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be there for her.
Iwillbe there for her.
I’m not letting her slip away from me.
I’m not losing anyone.
Not if I can help it.
Thirty-Six
Ellis
The clock hanging above the television in my living room ticks, time moving forward despite my ability to move with it.
Sometime after dinner, the phone call with Griffin, the night I spent crying, I dried up my tears and turned on autopilot. I go to work. I come home. I make food–mostly frozen pizza or leftover takeout. I turn the television off, and then I listen to the clock for a few minutes before going to bed.
My saving grace was watching Eloise yesterday. For the entire evening, my mind was void of the memory of Adam’s comments and the hole in my chest that somehow started feeling like a fucking crater.
Eloise could sense it, placing her little hands on my face and telling me I looked sad. She insisted that being scared was far better than sad and proceeded to drag me into the living room to play scary coffee shop again. This time, I didn’t tire of the game.
When B got home, I spilled my guts to her. She already knew what happened, but somehow, every ounce of everything I ever felt came out in those conversations.
I told her I felt like a burden. I told her I was afraid to pursue anything unstable, but when I really thought about it, my job was alright.
The crater in my chest filled in a bit when she hugged me, and that was something.
I am alright, though.
Standing from my spot on the couch, I move toward the kitchen, shuffling through the mail on my table, and remembering that I need to pay my electric bill. I cannot be late. The damn electric company doesn’t care if you’re in a coma, they will get their money.
Simon brushes against my leg, and I look down before scratching him behind the ears. “You miss him, don’t you?” I ask, and he seems to understand. Or maybe I’m just going crazy. “I do, too.”
A knock sounds at the door, and my brow furrows as Simon scurries away.
I briefly consider grabbing the longest book I own for defense before I decide against it.
Lennon and Cass stand in the dim porch light. Cass holds up a clear plastic bag with what looks to be no less than three pints of ice cream.
“Surprise!” she says.
