Page 116 of Falling

As soon as I opened my eyes this morning, I knew I had to get out of that room. I have to stop pretending like this is my life. That living off room service and good sex was my lifestyle. I thrive off routines, not whatever this is.

I need to be in the rink, in the gym, training and eating well. I need to get my head on right so I can tell Austin to suck it up and tell Mom about her pregnancy. My mind hasn’t been the same since last night, and I hate how out of control I feel. How helpless. So I got my ass up, showered, and got myself down to the beach to try to help settle my brain.

I know leaving without saying a proper goodbye probably pissed him off, but I didn’t expect him to be gone too. I came back to the room, started packing up our things, and an hour went by with no text. Maybe he’s taking some time for himself, too, which is understandable. I wouldn’t blame him, but I at least thought he’d tell me if he was leaving.

The rapid knock on the suite door drags me away from my thoughts.

The door swings open as I cross the living room to answer it. My heart drops through my ribs as I take in the sight in front of me. An elderly black lady in a flower sundress stands in the doorway with a very sad and very drunk Miles on her shoulder.

My stomach turns.

This is the first time I’ve seen him drunk in months. The lady looks around the room before her eyes settle on mine and they soften. I rush over to them, pulling Miles’s weight off her. He’s sweaty and a lot heavier than I remember. He sinks into me, and I can smell the alcohol on him. It’s so strong I’m sure he could start a fire.

“I’m so sorry to bother you. He was wandering around, and he said that he was staying here. You’re Wren, right?” the lady asks in a thick Southern accent. I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Okay, good. He might not look like it right now, but he said some really nice things about you. Take care of him.”

“I’m sure he did,” I say as I look down at him, his face buried into my chest. “Thank you so much.”

I try to keep calm as I walk with Miles’s arm over my shoulder, but my mind and my heart are racing. He’s avoided my eyes since he got in here, and I don’t know how to make this better for him. What to say. I know he wouldn’t drink unless he had a reason to, which is probably my fault for leaving this morning.

He stands, leaning against the sink even though I’ve told him to sit down, when I return to the bathroom with some water and painkillers. He takes a few pills and chugs half the bottle of water.

His movements are so slow and jerky, but I rub his back as he bends down to the floor, leaning over the toilet and throwing up. My stomach flips as I kneel next to him, rubbing his back in smooth circles while he leans his head on his arm on the toilet seat.

“It’s okay. Everything is okay. Just let it out,” I murmur. He doesn’t say anything, just mumbles indistinctly as he sits back up. “You’re okay, Miles.”

He groans as he sits up. I pull his arm around my shoulder and wrap my hand around his middle to help him stand up. “C’mon, let’s get you in the shower.”

Like I expected, he doesn’t reply; he just mumbles something in agreement. When he’s able to stand, I stand across from him, and part of me wishes I couldn’t see his face right now. Tears that are starting to dry stain his pale cheeks.

I inch closer, reaching my hand out to pull off his shirt. He helps me take off his shirt and his trousers, still staying quiet. I lean over to turn on the shower as he takes off his boxers and stepsinto it. He sits down, pulls his knees in, and hugs them close to his chest.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Wren,” he mumbles as I run the shower over his hair and back. I place my hand on his cheek, rubbing my thumb under his eye, and he melts into my touch. “I’m trying to be good for you, I swear.”

“I believe you. You don’t need to be sorry. I shouldn’t have run away,” I whisper.

“I thought… I thought you hated me. That you regretted last night and that you didn’t want me anymore. And I saw— I thought I saw Carter.”

It feels like someone has taken a pin to my heart and deflated it. “We’ll talk about this later, okay? We need to get you feeling better right now.” He nods, some of the color coming back into his face as I run my hand through his hair. “I’m here, Miles. I’ve got you.”

‘You've got me?” he mumbles, and my heart tears.

“Yeah, I’ve got you, Miles. Always.”

We don’t talk as I help him to feel better. We don’t talk about what happened. Why he went somewhere to drink or why he thought he saw Carter. I don’t push him to tell me, so he doesn’t bring it up. I ran away from the problem and so did he. We’re clearly both to blame and have more important things at hand to deal with.

When we get back to Salt Lake, the winter air hits us as we run to find a taxi to take us back to our houses. The second my body warms up to the temperature in the taxi, we’re already outside Miles’s house, and I’m struck by another brush of cold air.

I almost forgot it was New Year's Day until I took in all the decorations in the house. Gold and silver banners hang from the ceilings. Beer cans and SOLO cups litter the floor. There’s even a makeshift photo wall that I saw in Kennedy and Scarlett’s pictures from last night.

They were not happy with me missing New Year’s with them, but I convinced them to go to Xavier’s party, and from the way Kennedy was cuddling up to one of Miles’s teammates, Harry, I can tell they had a good night.

“Finally,” Xavier exclaims when he sees me and Miles. “Dude, it’s been hell without you.”

“Can’t talk. Head hurts,” Miles mumbles, acting worse than he is. He sulks and brings his drama queen ass up the stairs. I laugh, and Xavier pulls me into a side hug.

“What’s wrong with him?” he asks, turning to me with a funny look.

“He’s hungover. Kind of,” I reply with a shrug. He laughs and walks in the other direction. I run up the stairs after Miles as he hides away in the bathroom.

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