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“He’s not blowing you off.”
“Nicky! If you stick up for him one more time, I’ll kick your ass!”
He searches my face for a minute and starts to laugh—loud, roaring laughter that makes me want to leap across the couch and tackle him.
“Stop laughing at me!”
“I can’t help it! You’re hilarious.”
“I am not. I am pissed!”
“GOOD! It’s time you get pissed! This martyr act has been exhausting to watch! Jesus, for months we’ve watched you fall into this little world and hated every second of it. Get pissed! It’s time!”
“What the hell do you mean?”
“I mean, our Bizzy is a spitfire! That woman I found in the bed minutes ago is not you! That’s a woman admitting to defeat, sinking into a pit of depression without researching the facts. You ASSUME he’s always with Sasha, but he’s doing shit out of obligation to his son.”
“Thank fucking God you finally arrived!” Claire comes in, slamming the door behind her. “It’s about time!”
“I got here as soon as possible.” He gets up to greet her.
“What’s going on here?”
“In the last few weeks, I’ve done everything in the best friend’s handbook to get you out of your funk. I knew it was out of my control when you volunteered to work on Christmas. That’s your very favorite holiday. You LOVE being at home on Christmas. So I called in reinforcements.” She jerks her head at Nicky.
“You’re a bitch.”
“Harsh, considering you have color in your cheeks for the first time in forever.”
“She may have color in her cheeks, but when’s the last time she ate? Or showered?” Nicky talks over me to Claire.
“She rarely eats, but I think she may have showered yesterday morning before her shift.”
“Could have fooled me. Her room stinks. When’s the cleaning service coming back?”
“In two days, but that’s not why her room stinks.”
“Hello!” I wave my hands wildly in the air. “I’m right here. Stop talking about me like I’m invisible.”
“Why does your room stink?” Nicky crosses his arms and gives me a pointed look.
“Um… maybe I should wash my sheets.” I slide off the sofa and make a dash for my room.
Stupid of me to think I could outrun an NFL athlete. My feet are yanked out from under me, and I fly sideways as Nicky lifts me and I dangle at his side.
“What the ever-loving fuck are those?”
> I close my eyes and swallow down the mortification. I know exactly what he’s referring to. This is really going to be embarrassing. “Um…an experiment?”
“Bizzy, don’t make me ask again.”
“Fine! They’re all the flowers Shaw sent me on my birthday,” I huff out and cover my flaming face.
“They’re all dead… and shit is growing on the vases.”
“Isn’t it fucking disgusting? They died the first week. You’d think a nurse would have more hygiene,” Claire tells him.
“Claire! You have easily made it to my shit-list today. Stop antagonizing me! I’ll get you back for this.”
