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“Shit, I’m late for work,” Kim says. “Should I call out?”
Tristan looks annoyed by the question. “Of course not. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, but… I’m worried about you. That was rough.”
He shrugs and straightens from the couch. “No rougher than any other day this week.”
Kim doesn’t look convinced, and Tristan’s expression hardens further. Uh-oh.
“I’ll be here if he needs anything,” I say quickly to prevent another argument. Everything with Tristan is an argument these days.
“You sure? What about Pierce?” Kim asks.
“You heard him. He’s hanging with Brian tonight,” I say dryly.
Tristan cracks the slightest smile, and it’s amazing how that small miracle relaxes my lungs.
“I guess I can spy on them if they go to Palisades,” Kim grunts.
“Where else would he go since he hangs out there so damn much?” Tristan mutters.
Kim snorts a laugh. “Twenty bucks says he orders a Cosmo.”
“He’s never even been in there,” I say. “I’m sorry, Tristan. For all of that. I told himnotto come over tonight.”
“Which pretty much guaranteed he would,” Kim says under her breath.
“It’s fine,” Tristan sighs, pushing up from the couch. He looks exhausted. “You need the bathroom?” he asks Kim.
“No. I’m about to head out. You sure you’re okay?”
“Never better,” he mumbles.
He moves down the hall, and Kim sends me a worried look.
“I’m scared, Iz,” she says once we’re alone.
I glance down the hall to watch his silhouette disappear into the bathroom. The door clicks shut a second later.
“Because of Pierce?” I ask, my own stomach in knots.
“Because of everything. He’s fading. You see that, right? Look up Post-Incarceration Syndrome. That’s totally him, isn’t it? Every day it’s worse, and I don’t know what to do.”
“He doesn’t have hope,” I say quietly, gazing down the dark hallway. “He’s given up.”
“Everyone treats him like shit, that’s why. Did you hear what happened at Shelton’s yesterday?”
“While he was working?”
She nods. “Kristy was on the same shift.”
Sadness fills her eyes, and I already need her to stop. I didn’t hear what happened and I don’t want to.
“Kristy said people were asking for a different server when he tried to help them. Apparently, one person even wrote something nasty on the check. She didn’t know what because their boss took care of it, but she said he was really upset. It’s not right, Iz. It should be me,” she says, blinking back emotion.
Yeah. It should.
I take a deep breath and finally free the question that’s been haunting me since I learned the truth.
