Page 36 of Destroyed

“But he doesn’t even know who you are, Corrine.”

“Well, he doesn’t remember everything but knows me. Again.”

“So you two are fucking again?” she asks, both indignant and crushed.

“I think things are coming around to where we were before. And I… I love him, Sam. And it was so unfair of me to bring you here and let this thing between us continue when I knew I was in love with him.”

I can’t look at her.

“I knew you were Corrine,” she says, and I finally look up at her face.

“You knew I was in love with him?”

“Of course,” she says. “It was so obvious you were heartbroken. I’m not clueless. But I thought, maybe, you’d decide you weren’t waiting for Xavier anymore, and you’dbe okay withme.” Her chin quivers like when she’s concentrating hard, and a tear slides down her face.

“Sam,” I say softly. “You are too good for having someone beokaywith you. You deserve fireworks.” I hug her to my side then, realizing that I wasn’t hiding any of my true feelings from her all along. Because she’s a woman. And women constantly fucking know.

“Don’t let him forget you,” she says, smiling softly and standing. I stand, too, knowing already that we won’t talk anymore. We walk silently to my door, and I open it for her.

“Goodbye, C,” she says, not looking back my way once.

I close the door and sigh heavily, leaning against it and sliding down to sit on the floor. Despite the hurt I know that caused Sam, I’m relieved I won’t be deceiving her anymore. I want Xavier now; it has only been him since I met him. Even if he is a fucking nutcase.

A nutcase who, if I can guess by the sounds coming from my bedroom, is now heaving his guts out.

I stand up and rush through my bedroom door, seeing that, thank God, he’s made it out of the bed and into the bathroom. I tap lightly on the door.

“Xavier? Are you okay?”

“Give me a minute,” he says, continuing with horrific purging noises. I give him his space, leaving the bathroom door and sitting on my bed to wait. Within a few minutes, he’s out, looking sheepish and green.

“Lie down,” I tell him, and feel the weight of the bed shift as he ignores me and sits beside me instead.

“Corrine,” he starts, “I just don’t know who I am right now.”

“I know,” I say softly, “but this deserves a conversation when your head is fully here. And right now, you’re not.” He nods slowly, his foggy eyes staring at the floor before us.

“So lie down,” I instruct again, “and I’ll bring you water.” This time he listens, and I make my way to the kitchen. I fill a glass and consider whether he’ll need something to eat. It’s probably too soon.

By the time I return, he’s passed out again. I simply set the water down and lay beside him, watching him breathe and wondering what I do now. At some point, I drift off and dream about being somewhere away from the mess I seem to be in now. In the dream, Xavier is there, sober and happy. And I’m not giving two shits about some Lockhart dude trying to come after my sister, or Xavier, or me.

Soft crying noises enter my dreams and don’t align with the scene's fun. I wake up, realizing the crying isn’t in my dream but from Xavier, who is now openly weeping beside me.

“I’m so fucked up,” he says and barely contains himself as his sobs rack his drugged body.

“Shhhhhh,” I say softly, pulling him closer to me and letting him get out whatever he’s been holding back these past few weeks. My heart breaks at his sadness, and I find myself crying for him, for myself, and for the challenges we’re up against.

We both fall asleep again at some point, and when I wake up, he’s gone.

Chapter 28

Xavier

It’s official. I am an idiot. Why the fuck would I show up at Corrine’s door completely blasted?

The past week’s events run through my mind like scenes in a bad romantic comedy. Actually, it's more like a horror comedy film at this point. My mind is in complete shambles. I woke up in Corrine’s bed Thursday morning, feeling like complete shit and looking like it too. She was still asleep when I snuck out and returned to my place.

I know, I know. Not my finest hour. The embarrassment and shame of knowing Corrine saw me at my lowest, now more than once. It’s a hard pill to swallow. No pun intended. The worst part is I barely remember any of it. Bits and pieces come through the fog: a woman crying in her living room while I lay in her bed, the same woman rubbing my back while I puke my entire existence into her toilet. That same kind creature holding me like I’m a child.

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