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The girls decide we should go out after we freshen up and nap. I’d much rather stay at home and shut out the rest of the world, but here I am, standing in the foyer of the house, dressed to go out and waiting for Edith to come down. I offer to hire us a car so we don’t have to worry about designated drivers.
The club is packed and we sit down for the 9pm show. A gruff guy, who pretends to be Italian, tells inappropriate and stereotypical jokes about his New Jersey mob family, getting us all laughing. The waitress refills our drinks several times, so our little foursome is feeling particularly tipsy. Edith and Shelby have let their hair down and are leaning into each other, giggling the entire time. Suffice it to say, I’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight to avoid any issues. I feel guilty enough for what happened in Miami. I don’t think I could take much more.
Once the night ends, we head back to the house. Aiden and Shelby come inside, deciding to stay over, and we send the driver on his way. I decide I’ll sleep in the bedroom after all, leaving the lovebirds to fight over the couch. Both have been snippy lately and I don’t have it in me to figure out their problems, too.
“Jack, babe, come up to bed.” Edith is swaying up the stairs and I’m tempted to send Shelby up with her. She looks like a dark angel with her loose hair and curls framing her face, bouncing down her back.
Harshly, I tell my smiling girl, “Get in bed, Edith. It’s been a long day.” It makes her frown, but I’m tired, a little drunk, and annoyed as hell. Looking at my watch, I see it’s well after one in the morning. I don’t think I’ve had a restful night’s sleep in a while. “Let me get some pillows and blankets for Aiden and Shelby, then I’ll be up.”
Pouting and pursing her lips, she stomps up the stairs. “Fine.” I cover my face with my hands and clench my fists, asking God for patience.
“You guys all settled here?” I say, pulling out the couch and rearranging the pillows.
“I promise no sex on the expensive couch Edith hates,” Shelby mumbles, falling into the cushions.
“I didn’t know she felt that way. Good thing Pottery Barn has a good return policy,” I mumble. I’m pissed. More shit she doesn’t communicate about. I’m a bundle of aggravated nerves right now.
“Good going, big mouth.” Aiden thwacks her butt with a pillow and she retaliates.
Taking a deep breath, I head back upstairs to my own personal hell. As I enter the darkened bedroom, I see that Edith is in bed and under the covers. She pats the spot next to her and I sit down.
“Come here, my favorite professor.” Edith pulls me down so my head rests in her lap. The sheet slips down, exposing her perfect breasts. She plays with my hair and runs her hands down my chest, unbuttoning my shirt. I stop her, trying to prevent the inevitable conversation.
A deep breath steadies me. “Baby, not tonight.” I shut my eyes and feel her retreat further away, but I don’t know what else to do. She slips from the bed and goes into the bathroom, slamming the door and shutting me out.
Chapter Twenty-One
Edith
My life is getting worse. First, Jack rejects me. Second, I am supposed to get up on the stand and testify against the scum who attacked me in my own home. I feel the pressure burst within me. Some fissure cracks, leaving me feeling outside of myself, a hazy vision of who I used to be. Do I even know myself anymore? I get out of the bed we share, slamming the bathroom door behind me. My whole body itches for something to numb the pain.
I look at the mirror and nothing is out of place. Each curl is as it should be, my mascara slightly smudged from the night out. I’ve been on a tight leash since Miami. Hell, we watched the ball drop New Year’s Eve on the television with a two drink minimum. Alcohol wasn’t really my thing, but those pills Jack takes for his migraines made me forget how much I hated parts of myself.
Searching the cabinets and behind the vanity mirror, I find nothing to appease the devil on my shoulder. If I could go to bed and sleep the whole night, I would, but there’s no real hope for that now. Upset with myself for being so weak, I push everything on the counter to the floor. Broken perfume bottles, toiletries, and other items crashing to the floor reflects the chaos inside. I don’t even hear myself cry out, nor do I stop myself from throwing the ceramic soap dish at the mirror, shattering it.
Jack yelling and banging on the door are not nearly as loud as the cacophony of voices inside my head telling me how worthless I am. I hear the door fly open as I sink to the floor. “Edith? Dammit, baby. What did you do?” Jack kneels on the floor next to me, cradling my hand. Looking down, I see the bright flash of blood, the cut stinging as he opens my hand to expose it to the air. “Shit. This looks bad.”
Jack picks me up and sets me next to the bed. I hear running, then Aiden bursts into the room. I don’t hear what they say before Aiden kneels down in front of me.
“Goddammit, Edith. Stop looking at your hand like you fucking enjoy how it feels. Don’t you dare!” Jack is pissed and, with his outburst, I got a flaming reaction. The worthlessness I feel finally has justification. Mission accomplished He storms out of the bedroom as Shelby comes upstairs with the first aid kit.
“You certainly like to keep it interesting, girlfriend.” Shelby pulls out gauze, and antiseptic handing the items to Aiden.
“Luckily, you won’t need stitches.” His glasses perched on his nose, Aiden picks out a small fragment of glass.
Snorting, I sarcastically reply, “What are you? A doctor?”
“Not yet. However, I didn’t realize you were a boxer, Ali,” he utters, cleaning out my cut.
Jack doesn’t come back until morning.
Jack
By the time Aiden comes downstairs, I’ve sobered up enough, making the decision to leave. I can stay at my apartment downtown. I need some serious clarity if I’m going to be able to deal with the unexpected amount of problems Edith keeps sweeping under the rug. He lets me know that Shelby will stay with Edith to make sure nothing else happens. She has good friends, a nice place to live, one semester left of college, and me…but I guess it’s not enough to keep her from going down this destructive path. I’m an emotional wreck over the girl I was never supposed to be with, and I’m starting to wonder if this is all a sign.
I’ve got one option left. I decide to call Fleur in the morning. I guess it should bother me that I’m about to open up Pandora’s Box with an ex, but Fleur was a gem back then and is a brilliant psychologist now. While I’m all kinds of messed up, I know Fleur’s only motivation would be to help.
