Page 267 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

Siena didn’t even pose it as a question.

John didn’t respond.

She figured it was probably a bit of both, really.

“They’re fucking with me, and I don’t like it.”

“Darren’s people?” she asked.

She didn’t really need to ask.

She already knew.

John looked up from the stuff on his bed, and finally met her gaze. She didn’t like what stared back, or how distant he seemed. She knew that John didn’t rapid cycle from high to lows all the time, but things could tip him one way or the other.

High, or low.

Good, or not.

Manic, settled, or depressed.

She wondered how low he was right then.

How low did he feel?

How dark was he in his mind?

“None of this is important,” she told him, grabbing one of the papers, and shaking it hard. “Not to you, or your family. You know it isn’t important. None of this has ever made any difference to them, John.”

She tossed the paper away, grabbed another, and then did the same thing. She continued until all the crap was gone from the bed.

John never moved, or said a word.

Siena felt marginally better, but she doubted John did. “I’m worried about you, John.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“You haven’t called in a week.”

“It’s nonstop lately.”

“What is?”

“This,” he said, waving at the mailers, “and this.”

He pointed to his head.

“So call me,” she said.

“I’m trying to handle it, Siena.”

“Alone?”

“There’s enough going on without me—”

Siena heard enough. She moved around the corner of the bed, and stepped in front of John. She put her body between him and the bed to make him look away from the spot that had been filled with things he likely regretted, and events that made him ashamed.

She knew what he had been doing.