“Don’t say that. It’s the drugs. Without them he’s okay…”
“You think he wanted you to stay because he loves you? No. It’s because heownsyou. He knows that no matter how much he hurts you, you’ll forgive him.Youare the victim here, Nadia, not him.You.”
I never thought Nick could see past the love he had for his sister and assess the situation for what it was. His words stung, but it seemed the only way to show Adrian as the abuser, not a helpless victim of his own addiction.
“I know. I don’t think he can be saved,” Nadia muttered. “And I no longer want to try. It’s gone on too long.”
Nick and I traded glances. It was the best moment to tell her what he tried to do, but he shook his head. His reluctance was understandable, but it would make things much harder.
“I’ll do it if you want,” I told him.
It wasn’t my job, but it didn’t mean shit. The longer we waited, the worse the repercussions, and she’s been through enough. She had to process it while she was in the right frame of mind—not willing to help him anymore.
Nick hesitated, glaring around the room as if searching for the right words. A couple of minutes of hugging her to his side, he pushed her away, and took his phone out of the pocket, and left the room to call Amelia.
I opened my mouth but thought better of it. Maybe Nick had a point. Nadia was vulnerable, confused and still tried to defend him. We both wanted to keep her away from Adrian at all costs, even if it meant withholding information. Last time he tried to kill himself, she packed her bags. There was no way either of us would let her do that again; we didn’t want to see her revert into saviour mode.
Nadia crossed the room, taking a packet of cigarettes from the coffee table. She opened the balcony door, but stayed inside, inhaling the smoke.
There were enough drawings around to fill a decent-sized gallery. One of the pieces closest to me showed Nadia’s alter ego—the girl in white dress—kneeling before something that looked like a make-shift grave in the middle of a dark, sinister forest. Her hands were dirty as if she dug it herself, her dress stained. Fog surrounded the dark trees. A barely visible silhouette of a man was everywhere, yet nowhere.
It was beautiful but heart-wrenching. I stared at the piece, feeling the emotions she wanted to show. There were words carved onto the stone on the picture that I haven’t noticed before.
“Bury it underground, cover it with a stone, and I’ll dig out the bones anyway. What am I?” Nadia recited.
She watched me, resting by the open balcony door, a cigarette in-between her pencil-stained fingers. I joined her, welcoming the chilly December air that ruffled the curtains with relief.
“Don’t hide whatever is going on inside your head for anyone’s sake. You can’t run away forever.”
She inhaled the smoke, watching the dark, starless sky. There was no guessing what she thought about.
Nick came back to the living room. “Mel is waiting; you want to pack something?”
Nadia shook her head, and threw the cigarette over the railing, walking around me, her face stoic.
“I haven’t unpacked my bags yet.”
I gathered some pills from the coffee table and grabbed one of the few new sketchpads along with a handful of pencils before I followed them out of the apartment.
We didn’t speak much on our way to the cottage, but I watched Nadia in the rear-view mirror the same way I did when Nick and I picked her up from the airport six months earlier.
Amelia waited in the kitchen, a bottle of wine on the counter, the rim of a half-empty glass pressed to her lips. Her eyes were red, hinting that Nick must have told her the story or the main bits, at least.
She rose from the chair when we entered, and for three seconds, she kept her composure. Then she lost it. She hugged Nadia, crying like I hadn’t seen her cry before.
“Don’t cry,” Nadia said, too strong for her own good. “I’m okay.”
It did nothing to calm Mel, but it did a lot to turn my stomach. How could she consider what Adrian did as “okay”?
Amelia disappeared in the living room only to re-emerge moments later with a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses in hand.
“Come on. Girls night in.”
Mel tugged on Nadia’s right hand, but I caught the other, my chest heavy. I didn’t want to lose her out of my sight.
“Did you take any pills tonight?”
A shadow of a smile crossed her lips. “Nothing I can’t mix.” She let go of Mel and pressed her body against mine, hands flat on my chest.