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I bring my bag to the living room, walking over to the gray couch and settle in.
There's no TV. Going to have to fix that.
Unzipping my bag, I pull out my laptop, setting it on the glass coffee table in front of me. I told Mr. Hyde that I wouldn't obsess, that I wouldn't worry or head back down my dark path.
But Ihaveto check.
I push the top of my laptop open, pressing the small button to turn it on.
The screen lights up and I log in, heading straight toward my email. I use a neighbor’s internet that doesn’t have a password, knowing I'm going to have to get my own soon if I want something reliable.
Heading straight to my email, I log on and click the inbox button. My email loads, hundreds of emails popping up. All unread. I've stayed away from the media and the press, knowing they're fucking vultures that will do anything to get a story out of you.
I know what Brandy did. Lonnie told me how she sold out the entire story of my breakdown to the media, painting me in a bad light and making me look like a fucking douchebag drug addict. My manager says I should sue her for breaching her contract and the fucking non-disclosure that's put in place for every worker to keep our lives discreet, but I didn't want the hassle. If she wants to be a bitch, then she can be a bitch. I'm done with her.
I scroll down, looking only for one name. I scroll through all six months’ worth of emails, and go even a little longer, my heart sinking the further I go.
Nothing.
After all this time, she still hasn't reached out to me. It's been four years, and I haven't heard a peep from her. You’d think she would've reached out to at least say hello.
Does she know that I've been in treatment for half of a year?Is she even okay?
The thoughts and worry make sweat dot along my neck. I wipe it away, considering reaching out to her parents to see if they've heard from her.
I don't do that, though, because I made a promise to Mr. Hyde. I need to give her space. I need to give her time. If our destinies are as aligned as I believe they are, she'll come back to me.
She has to.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LUNA
2000
Isit in the forest, taking a break from my work and eating a fresh avocado. These things here are delicious, growing to be the size of my head. No one understands how good actual fresh fruits are. Go to Hawaii, you can have anything you want. Double the size. Double the flavor.
Juice dribbles down my lips, and I wipe it away with the back of my hand.
I made it to Hawaii.
I live in a small hut, almost like a cabin, with a ton of other people that are here for the same purpose. To live in paradise and not have to worry about the stresses around us.
I get to live near the ocean, I get to live near the forest, I get to live near the mountains. I can choose to do anything that I want on any given day, and all it takes is a small trip and I can do what I want.
I've made a few friends out here, but after what happened in Santa Cruz, I've mostly just kept to myself.
The owners of the ranch are an older couple, Hawaiians that don't care too much for small talk. Most of the locals are the same here. They don't really care for tourists. They keep to their side of the island, and the tourists keep on the other side. The locals call itthe other side of the world. I've traveled there once or twice, more out of curiosity than anything else.
It's beautiful there. It's beautiful everywhere, actually. Chickens roam free throughout the land. I wake up in the mornings to them talking to each other, their clucking loud and off tune. It makes me smile, and I love waking up in the mornings to watch them roam around the island.
I've only gotten in touch with my parents once since I got here. After I got off the plane, I walked here, worried that the job opportunity wouldn't even still be available. Luckily for me, they've been doing this for years, needing all the help they can get in the fields, in the gardens; anywhere they need help, we're put to work. Most of it is outside, full of manual labor that makes my body ache in places it's never ached before.
But living here has rejuvenated me, and I finally feel a little bit alive again. Not fully, and a part of me doesn't know if I'll ever be whole again. But that's okay, because I'm learning to live again. Learning to be me. How can someone be unhappy while living for free in Hawaii? It's impossible.
I think about Neil and Trish a lot. I'm not sure where they ended up, or what happened to Neil at the hospital. I also wonder what happened to Willie, as fleeting as my thoughts are, I hope he's okay, wherever he is.
I drop the shell of the avocado, wiping my sticky hands on my legs. Standing up, I walk through the dense, green trees and back out into the field. I’ve been growing a lot of kale, cherry tomatoes, and papaya lately. But my absolute favorite place to be is in the flower garden. There's a peace in watching a flower bloom from absolutely nothing into something so pure and spectacular. Nurturing it from a seed, taking care of it over time, watching it blossom under the bright sun.
