The dust from Bodhi’s bike blocks my view of him as he speeds away. The second I heard his bike start, I second-guessed everything I had just said to him, and I called out to him, but he couldn’t hear me. My head tells me I shouldn’t believe him, but my heart tells me I should. Even while he was a patient here, he never gave me any reason to think he was a liar.
But he’s famous. Aren’t all famous people liars? Maybe that’s what the tabloids want us to believe so we continue to buy their garbage. Or is it me—I can’t believe anything he says because he’s been in rehab? Maybe it’s because I’m insecure in his love for me—why would a mega-superstar like Bodhi McKnight love an average person like me? I keep looking down the road, waiting for him to reappear, but the sound of his motorcycle is nothing but a faint memory.
“Kim?”
My dad’s hand rests on my back. I turn, put my head on his chest, and cry. I’ve been sobbing for hours, but the tears seem to continue to fall. When he saw me come home in the middle of the night, he came to my apartment and I told him everything. I hadn’t wanted to, but once the words started I couldn’t stop them. He was shocked to find out about Bodhi, and when he asked if anything happened while he was in rehab, I lied.
I lied to protect Bodhi and myself.
I’m the liar in this relationship, but I accused Bodhi of lying when in my heart I know he’s telling the truth. Why did I let him get away?
“I have to go after him, Dad.”
“No, Kim. It’s clear that he rushed into a relationship and isn’t man enough to handle it. It’s common with addicts. They need a person to hold their hand, even away from rehab.”
“No, that’s not it at all. I lost faith in him too quickly.”
My dad shepherds me into my apartment and sits me on the couch, then ducks into the bathroom and returns with a cold compress.
“Thanks. I’m sure I look crazy.”
“You’re always beautiful to me.”
I nod, remembering the words Bodhi said to me. He was always complimenting me, making sure I was comfortable, and he never let me feel like I didn’t belong with him and his friends.
And when he needed me the most, when he needed me to believe him, I gave up because it was easier to block him out and forget about everything we’ve shared over the past two months than to let him tell me his side of the story. Maybe I thought that was the safer route—take the hurt all up front rather than draw out a painful breakup. But the joke’s on me. I never should have doubted him in the first place.
As soon as my dad leaves, I dial Daphne’s number.
“He came to see you, didn’t he?”
“How do you know?”
“Just a hunch. Some blog posted about seeing him getting gas at a station in San Diego.”
“Yeah, he was here. I think I screwed up, D.”
“Tell me,” she says. I can hear her moving around her apartment, and I wonder if I caught her at a bad time. Even if I did, she’d never tell me.
“He said he was drugged.”
“Hmm. Seems to be a classic line from someone who’s addicted, right? ‘It’s not what it looks like’ and all that shit?”
“That’s what I thought, but now I don’t know. It doesn’t add up. The way he was treating me, how we were together—why would he suddenly get high while I was in the bathroom?”
“Because he’s an addict?”
Daphne’s words are no different from my father’s. But what good am I to someone I’m helping get clean if I think of them as only an addict once they leave here?
“I need to go talk to him, D. Even if it’s just to talk. He has to know that I believe him, and I do now. I do believe he didn’t get high by choice.”
“So what are you waiting for?”
“I don’t know. Maybe for you to tell me I’m stupid. Or maybe that I need to follow my heart and go after the man I love, whether he relapsed or not.”
“Kimmy, I’m not going to tell you either of those things. Look at me. I haven’t had a single serious relationship in my life, so I’m the last one you should ask for advice. It seems to me that if you love him, that love should conquer all. I’d understand if you’d been down this path with him before and he kept using, but I don’t think that’s the case. I think you were confused and hurt by what you saw and you reacted like any normal human would. You were in a crowded club, emotions were high, and you did the right thing given what you saw.
“Now you have to ask yourself if he’s worth it. If you’re not sure, you need to let him go so you can both heal. But if he is, Kimmy, and you want to be with him, then go grovel and tell him how sorry you are for not trusting him. Only you can make the decision. This isn’t like asking me whether or not you should get vanilla or chocolate, because you know I’ll always choose chocolate. This is your life. Follow your heart and see where it leads.”