“Why?”
“Because you’ve never been in one!” I screamed. I put my hands over my face, trying to hide my frustration. Then I pulled them through my hair and faced him. “Let’s just drop this, okay?”
The silence stretched between us. He curled his lips over his teeth, fisted his hand, and clenched his jaw like he had more to say.
I stopped him. “Don’t. Please just don’t.”
“First rule was what?” he asked, holding up a finger.
I shook my head, not ready for any of our rules.
“You’re not broken and you need to remember who you are. You don’t back down, and you don’t cower when I’m about to tell you something. You never have and you won’t start now.”
I realized at that moment that Dougie had taken a part of me. The part that gave me confidence in myself, the part that told me I could handle anything, was gone.
I’d become a victim, I’d stayed with my abuser, and I’d let him tear apart everything I’d built in myself.
I didn’t want to hear more because I was close to breaking. “I’m trying to fix things, Jay.”
“Well, stop trying. You’re better than all of that, Pebble. Remember when we met?”
I remembered him hitting on me, picking up a pebble and saying I was about as tiny as that. “Yes,” I whispered.
“I almost didn’t approach you. You had more confidence in your tiny hand than everyone on the whole beach. And when you told me you were only entertaining our conversation because you knew I was an actor, I almost walked away. You didn’t let me. You had that fight in your eyes, like you were going to make me see you were the best.”
“Yes, exactly.” I threw my hands up like he finally got it. “I don’t give up and I’m trying not to give up on my relationship either.”
“No, Meek. Because what you’re doing is giving up on yourself.”
I stumbled back at his words. “You’re one to talk about giving up when you’ve been on a self-destructive path for as long as…”
I didn’t want to finish. I was throwing insults instead of constructive criticism, and my gut clenched at my immaturity, at my need to defend the dumpster fire of a relationship I was in by tearing my best friend down.
“Going to finish?” he goaded me.
I took a deep breath and shook my head.
“Fine,” he grumbled without meeting my eyes. “Then, I’m going to the drugstore. Please ice the bruising on your side.” He stalked past me and I started to follow him, concerned I’d pushed him hard and he wouldn’t come back, that he’d go do something stupid.
And it was my job to make sure he didn’t.
More than that, though, I couldn’t fathom that I might lose him again emotionally when we were just starting to build back up what we’d lost.
“Don’t follow me, Meek. Your job isn’t on the line. I’m not going to do anything crazy.”
I opened my mouth to tell him that wasn’t the real reason I was following him. He needed to know I wasn’t just here for that, but he didn’t let me get a word in.
“And if you don’t believe me, I’m sure our company will be having you drug test me in a day or two to confirm. Let me be.”
I halted my chase. I let him go.
I told myself his wellbeing was more important at the moment than our friendship, that I had to let him deal with his own emotions, not bombard him with mine.
I pulled my phone out to shoot him a text that he needed to be back in time for dinner. I saw my schedule, though. It was the one I’d merged with his phone, and the next event that would sound for both of us was dinner with Lorraine.
Hounding him would just reinforce that I was trying to check on him.
I threw my phone on my bed and paced. My pent-up emotion had me needing a release more than anything. Glancing at the door and listening to see if anyone was near enough to hear what I would be doing in my bedroom, I concluded I was in the clear. I grabbed my mini wand vibrator from a little bag in my suitcase and went to the bathroom that sported a large claw bathtub. I poured soap in, turned the water up to a steaming temperature and slid in right when the water got high enough.