My hands reached for the bottle as my mind screamed no. But a little part of me wanted it. I’d taken a lot of pills before I’d detoxed, all sorts of shapes and sizes and colors. I couldn’t remember what any of them were or what they did besides bring oblivion. This pill could bring freedom. I could let go. I’d been holding on so tightly to a life I didn’t want. I’d worked so hard to make it fit. If I took this pill maybe I could just exist.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I said.
“It’s over the counter. It may be a placebo for all I know. No pressure. But it will help you relax.” He cupped a hand around my head and pulled me in to place a soft kiss on my forehead.
I grew antsy. I wanted to push him away. I felt a scream trying to tear its way out of my throat. Why? I had no right to be angry or restless. I chose this. Or rather, I let myself be led into this life by my lack of choice.
“I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You know that. I just want to help you relax.”
My mouth watered as I opened the bottle. I would just take a glance at them. “All natural?”
He scratched his chin. “Of course.”
I hid my response as I dumped out a pill into my hand. It was small and blue with a fancy “V” stamped on one side and “2531” on the other. Herbal supplement, my ass. I spent months in rehab. I knew prescription drugs. Just not this one.
I closed my hand around a pill and made to throw it in my mouth. Instead, I pocketed it. It was the most deceitful thing I’d done around Roddy. I had always been my genuine self and made the naïve assumption that he did as well. I thought with our shared history, there was no reason to be anyone but his real self. He was a shiny veneer but what about the content inside? What did I really know? We talked every day, a lot actually, but it was always about the schedule or memories or things that felt as substantive as marshmallow cereal.
I took a deep breath and relaxed. Inside I fumed. I didn’t want to assume the worst. I had gone off on Devlin, and I’d seen how well that worked out. I needed to handle this rationally.
“I’ll meet you out in the car. I’ve got your cello loaded already.” He hugged me again and made for the door. “You’ll feel better in no time. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Sounds good,” I smiled at him.
As soon as he was out of the room, I took a couple detailed pictures of the pill and sent it to the group chat for the SWS.
“First person to tell me what this pill is gets my undying love for eternity.”
“No pressure,” I added with a winky face. Damn, I missed my girls. And my home. My mind didn’t pop up the image of my bed though. It took me to Devlin’s bed. To the room I’d slept in. To the couch in the studio. To his bed. That was where my confused brain associated with home.
I closed my eyes tight. My phone was already blowing up with texts. They missed me too and promised to find out. One more show. One day at a time. I could do this.
I gripped the pill in my hand. I studied it for a long moment. It would be so easy to go back to being checked out. All I would have to do is swallow and live this life.
But no. I’d felt alive again. I had found joy in my playing without the help of drugs. I didn’t need a man to have that power over me. I didn’t need anybody to have that power over me. I was done letting others live my life. I would do this last show tonight and then I’d go home. From now on, I decided what I wanted.
I dropped the pill into the toilet and flushed.
* * *
In the car ride back from the show I shook with anxious rage.
Fucking Klonopin. Pardon my swearing. But was he clucking kidding me?
I knew the power of prescription drugs. They saved a lot of people’s lives when prescribed correctly and controlled by professionals. They weren’t candies to be thrown around at the first sign of stress. What he did was selfish and dangerous.
“Can cause paranoid or suicidal ideation and impair memory, judgment, and coordination. Combining with other substances, particularly alcohol, can slow breathing and possibly lead to death,” Blithe’s text read.
Suzie followed up with, “Often used to treat panic attacks and numb the brain.”
“Highly habit forming,” Gretchen added. And then right after “Read: STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM.”
These lovely women had responded within minutes of me sending that first text. I’ve said it before and I would say it again: they could easily rule the world. Their messages waited on my phone after my performance. I sent a very short text back letting them know I hadn’t taken it and that I was fine. Because apparently sending that text and then disappearing for a few hours was on the “not cool” list of things to do to your girlfriends.
I had performed like the subservient little cellist I was. What was I even doing? Was this living? Because, I had to say, it didn’t feel like it. I’d been such an idiot. Letting myself see what I wanted to see rather than face something that felt too big. Devlin had made me feel so much that I’d become overwhelmed by the possibilities. I was so afraid of making the wrong choice. Well, here I was quickly understanding I had made the absolute worst choice.
We drove in silence. At least, I was silent. Roddy jabbered on about likes and reposts and all the interest in a fall tour. My head was back against the seat. It would have been bad enough if he’d offered the pill to anyone, but he knew I’d been to rehab. The nagging suspicion I’d carried the last few weeks fully formed in my mind.
I narrowed my gaze toward him and spoke over whatever he was saying. “What did the note you sent me in rehab say?”
