20
“Babe. Wake up.” Audrey shakes my shoulders, and I pull a pillow over my face in a feeble attempt to drown out the drums playing a furious rhythm in my head.
“Go away.” I swat at my bestie. “There’s a death march hammering in my head, and I need to sleep for eternity.” I’m not ready to face this day yet, and I want to wallow in ignorance for a little longer.
“It’s after twelve, and I can’t keep this to myself any longer. Your phone is going crazy, and your mom called me. She’s threatening to come over here.”
“What?” That claims my attention. Whipping the pillow off my head, I whimper as pain rattles through my skull. My tired limbs protest when I pull myself up against the headboard. Pushing strands of knotty hair from my eyes, I work hard to focus my vision until Audrey appears less blurry. “She can’t see me like this. She’ll freak!” Mom knows I drink alcohol, but she’s always cautioning me to drink sensibly. She would be utterly ashamed if she saw the state of me right now.
“I think that ship has sailed,” she cryptically replies, handing me a mug of steaming coffee. “Drink this though you’ll probably need something stronger.”
“If it’s more bad news, I don’t want to know.” I blow on my coffee before taking a sip. “I can’t handle anything else right now.”
“This can’t wait, because I’m pretty sure the instant we step foot out of this apartment we’ll be accosted by paparazzi.”
All the blood drains from my face, and I clasp my hands around the mug, trying to siphon some of the warmth. Cold infiltrates every nook and cranny of my body, and I shiver, drawing the obvious conclusion. “It’s true? He actually got fake engaged to that bitch?”
“No, babe.” Audrey crawls up beside me, mirroring my position. “I spoke to Reeve earlier when he called for you, and he vehemently denies there is any engagement. Real or fake. Seems it was just tabloid speculation.”
“You spoke to him? He called?” He never calls in the mornings when he’s on set since they have super early starts. Filming onSweet Retribution, the thirdRydeville Elitemovie, began a couple of weeks ago, but the filming won’t be complete until next spring, because they’ll have to stop to do promo forTwisted Betrayal, the second movie, which is releasing in January.
She gives a terse nod of her head, and an ominous sense of dread washes over me.
“What is going on?” I ask. I might as well get this over and done with.
“There is no easy way to say this, so I’m just ripping the Band-Aid off.” She slides her arm around my shoulders. “Danny sold you out, Viv. He recorded everything you told him last night on his cell, and it was posted online a few hours ago. Clearly, someone doctored it to make it sound like you’re a bitter ex mouthing off because the love of your life just got engaged to someone else.”
I throw up all over my bed as the mug slides from my hands, splashing the already destroyed comforter and drenching the hardwood floor. Audrey is still speaking, but I don’t hear the words. I’m too busy losing my goddamn mind as my world comes crashing down around me.
Somehow, Viv manages to get me into the shower, and I tilt my head up, letting warm water stream down my face while I shiver from a coldness that emanates from my soul. I don’t cry, and that’s a first. Either I used up all my tears last night or I’m numb to it at this stage. I lather my body with shower gel and shampoo and condition my hair, as if on autopilot.
Audrey turns off the water, holding a large towel out for me. “Your parents are on their way. I couldn’t hold them off any longer,” she explains, as I tuck the soft towel around my body.
“It’s okay.” Tucking a towel around my head, I stare at my pale reflection in the mirror wondering when exactly I turned into this vampire-like version of myself. My collarbones jut out, confirming I’ve lost weight without even noticing. Bruising shadows attest to many sleepless nights, and my eyes have lost all their spark.
I look like I’m as dead on the outside as I am inside.
I could blame Reeve for this.
Idoblame him for this.
But I blame myself more.
I’ve let myself get beaten down. Made excuses for him time and time again, and yet I’m the only one suffering the consequences.
Audrey watches with concern in her eyes as I brush my teeth, cleanse my skin, and comb my damp hair. “I need to call Reeve,” I say.
“Don’t.” She hands me my underwear, a pair of jeans, and a T-shirt. “He was pissed earlier when I spoke to him. You should let him calm down.”
“It won’t matter.” I get dressed and head back out to my bedroom. Fresh sheets adorn my king bed, and the window is open, clearing the noxious smells from the room. Audrey is such a good friend, and I’d be even more lost without her.
“He’s so fucking selfish, and he deserves to stew. I’m not sorry I ripped him a new one earlier, and I’m not sorry for interfering. I realize now I should’ve staged an intervention months ago.” Audrey grabs my shoulders. “Viv, are you listening to me?”
I nod, but I’m strangely devoid of feeling inside. It’s a welcome change, and I cling to the numbness like it’s a second skin.
“Dump him,” she continues. “He’s changed—and not for the better. He’s so selfish, and he even had the nerve to accuse you of cheating. He’s lucky he’s hundreds of miles away because I could happily kick his ass.”
I cock my head to one side. “Why would he accuse me of cheating?”