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Vivian
Dee went back to Atlanta yesterday.
I didn’t stay in my brother’s apartment. I’ve been holed up in a decent hotel near his neighborhood. Worried as I am about him, I didn’t want to be underfoot. Especially when Dee ended up coming home with Walt immediately after her stay at Chicago Memorial Hospital. Shannon wasn’t happy, but she understood there was only so much she could do. When Dee made the decision to call her sister and return home, it was hers. I know it was hard for Walt to let her go.
I feel his pain.
I arrive on my brother’s doorstep expecting to find him disheveled and depressed that his fiancée is gone, but instead he’s dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, a cup of coffee in his hand.
“Hey.” He opens the door wider and I step in. The apartment is clean, and nearly empty.
I give him a once-over. “You seem…okay?”
He nods in a seesaw direction like he’s not sure how to answer. “I’ve been meditating. It helps.”
It must. I should try it. My head’s been a tangled mess ever since I told Nate I couldn’t be with him any longer. I had to block his number so I wouldn’t be tempted to answer his calls. Or maybe he stopped calling. It’s what I told myself I wanted him to do. Now I’m not sure.
I haven’t texted or called him. I’ve had the urge about a hundred times. But I was the one who ended it. I asked. I received. This is what I deserve.
Move on. Go forward. Push ahead.
I’ve been doing a combination of those things since the world discovered my father was a criminal. Since I discovered my life was built on a foundation of his lies. Pressing on should come as second nature by now. Why did I believe I could settle down and live a life that wasn’t mine? Being Vivian Vandemark was supposed to offer me a reprieve from people knowing who I am. She wasn’t supposed to be an identity I lost myself in.
“How’s Dee doing?” I ask Walt.
He lets out a heavy sigh. Like me, he’s accustomed to hiding how much he hurts. “The last time we talked she said she’s clean for good. She said landing in the ICU was a wake-up call.”
His tone is flat. I wonder if he believes her. My heart bleeds for him and for the addiction haunting his every step. I want better for him. I’m pissed that the world won’t let him have it.
“I should have seen this coming,” I say as I pour myself a cup of coffee I don’t need. I’m overly alert, despite my lack of sleep the last few nights. “I should have—”
“Stop.”
I carry my coffee cup to the built-in bar in the kitchen and sit next to him. He looks exasperated. Confused. Heartbroken.
Relate.
I lay my hand on his arm. “This isn’t your fault.”
“I mean it, V. Stop.” Anger etches lines into his forehead. His sharp cheekbones are dark and shadowed.
“Stop what? Looking out for you? I’m your older sister. It comes with the territory.”
“You’re three years older than me. You don’t know a hell of lot more than I do.”
My head jerks on my neck. “Thanks a lot.”
“I’m a grown man.”
“You’re an addict.”
“So are you.” He holds my gaze, daring me to ask him to explain.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You deserve better than you accept. Always have. You dated a billionaire who is a hell of a nice guy, Vivian. And then you blew up your life. As per your usual.”
“I’m looking out for myself,” I defend. “And you’re wrong. I accepted lots of things from Nate.”
