Page 108 of The Fix

Crap, crap, crap.

When I answered, I forgot that I was leaving Toby hanging most nights.

We’ve talked on the phone, but I haven’t talked at all.

What do I say?

The heat rises up my chest, and I pinch my blouse away, using the material to fan my face.

If I say nothing, he touches himself. If I speak, then I’ve broken the promise I made to myself to move on, leave him be.

Shaking my head, I push out of the little café, past the bodyguard, and into the thick night air.

Except, the sounds of traffic echo around me and I still don’t find the answers I’m looking for.

“It’s like I can hear you thinking too loud,” he mutters into the phone, and I stop, looking skyward.

“Talk to me about it. Maybe I can help.”

What if it’s you?

“What’s going on?”

With every night I postpone the inevitable, I lose another piece of my soul.

“Look, I don’t have to keep calling like this. I’d love to, but I understand if you don’t.”

His solid breathing fills my ear despite the world crashing in around me.

A truth I know all too well. A pain I refuse to live with a second time.

I’m in love with an addict who will never put me first.

“This is goodbye, Toby.”

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Toby

For eight days, I have called a number that claims it’s no longer in service.

No more voicemails to leave, text messages bouncing back as undeliverable.

And for just as long, I have held on to hope that the woman holding my heart will still be present when I finally take the first steps out into the world as a sober man.

So when Leo greets me with a wide grin and we walk to the town car he scheduled to pick me up, I can only half match his enthusiasm.

It’s the same when he rambles on about new projects on the plane ride home, speaks of the new lyrics Rex and Fin wrote as we cross the tarmac to yet another car.

By the time we turn onto the street that houses Rex’s penthouse, my smile has completely fallen.

Because not once in the last several hours has the man even hinted at Anna or her replacement.

When we pull into the open level of the garage, I direct him to pull over so I can get out of the car.

The air feels fresher out here, despite the residual fumes from the vehicles, the city itself, and yet it feels heavy as fuck and unlike what I remember.

Leo bumps my shoulder. “Talk to me, man. How are you doing?”

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