Page 98 of Nothing to Do

“And blame that on you.”

Taking no responsibility for himself and his choices. What a surprise.

“Everyone tells you it’s a disease.” Sway held herself in her own embrace. “And it is, I mean there are physical symptoms, and withdrawal is hell, that’s real.” In the silence, neither she nor Roxie rushed her. Letting Sway express herself in her own time, her own way, was a matter of respect. One the woman hadn’t been shown by her ex in the other room. “It’s easy to be understanding when you don’t live with it. There are support groups and doctors and all kinds of help and support available to the person with the addiction. And maybe it’s indulgent, maybe it’s selfish, but for those of us who tolerated it, who forgave over and over again, there’s no support for us.”

“It’s not fair.” Roxie’s sincerity touched her. More than just a pretty smile or a witty tongue, Roxie’s empathy was enviable too. “I can’t imagine what it was like.”

“You don’t try to help,” Sway said, propping herself on the window frame, gazing out. “At first, you ignore the signals, the red flags, you justify it to yourself. Oh, he likes to party, it’s not a big deal. He’s just having a good time. Then when you ask, they dismiss you, or ignore you. If you persist, the gaslighting starts and it’s so…” Her eyes narrowed like she could see into her own past. “They laugh at you, put ideas in your head, until it becomes your problem. No one else cares, why do you? I’m just having a good time, baby. Don’t see you bitching at anyone else about partying. Loosen up! Come on, get with it…”

“Did you talk to anyone about it?”

“Who do you talk to?” Sway asked with a brief glance their way. “People in your life might support you, but they can’t help, they can’t get involved, they have no pull with the addict. And they’ve never lived it, if you say anything, they might tell you to leave like it’s nothing but…”

“It’s never as simple as that.”

“And with us, there was all the extra pressure. We looked so good together, the public loved us, it’s great for the image—”

“Yeah, great for him. You gave him credibility.”

“Not just me.” Sway licked her lips. “If it wasn’t for Struan, Roman would’ve been done a long time ago, probably dead a long time ago too. I lost count of the number of times Struan was slipped in as sub at the last minute, and it was his arm I held on the red carpet.”

“His brother doesn’t deserve that loyalty.”

“But that’s just it…” Rolling against the window frame until her shoulders rested on it, Sway’s hands stroked down her forearms. “He does deserve it. Isn’t that what we’re told? It’s a disease. That means if you complain, you’re unsupportive. If you try to walk, you’re a deserter. You wouldn’t leave someone with cancer, why leave them with an addiction?”

“The person with cancer wants to get better. They go to doctors, get treatments. The addict doesn’t get to throw the disease thing in your face, and cry victim, then pop another half dozen pills.”

“You know he never once said it to me. He’s never once admitted his addiction, not to me. He wouldn’t. Always said he was stronger than that and could quit any time. I was never enough, of course, he had to give the fans what they wanted, the industry needed their star.”

“And all the time you’re drowning.”

“It’s worse than that. There’s a remedy to drowning, you have the ability to at least try to save yourself. Living with anaddict isn’t like that. You’re completely at the mercy of the drug, whatever that may be, pills, booze, whatever. And you’re the only one who remembers it all. The addict gets to wake up with amnesia, to minimize what it was. They kiss you good morning and go about their day…”

“You’re left alone with the trauma.”

“Unless you’ve lived it…” Her attention drifted to the view again. “You want to make yourself small, to disappear. You can see it happening, hear it’s happening, even before, the minute you knew… He had stashes, places he’d hide the medication, the bottles, around the house, it would appear and then I would know, or he’d get that look on his face… You learn to smell it, to feel when they’re on something, even before it kicks in.”

“Did you ever talk to anyone about it? You said people on your side had no influence, what about people on his side?”

“The thing is, everyone else can walk away. Magnus wouldn’t see it. I knew that he did, but he didn’t put words to it. Not exactly. It got to the point I only had to ring once and Magnus would know it was time to get Roman out from wherever we were, the party, or the meeting, whatever. I let it ring once and Magnus swooped in to get Roman out before he made a mess; everything is dumped back at the LA mansion. Everything including me.”

“You didn’t have your own place?”

“It was my place.” That startled them both. “One day he showed up and he never left. What do you say to someone like that? When he and his entourage show up with truckloads of his things, and then they’re just… there. I brought it up with Magnus once, that I might move to New York, get a change of pace.”

“What did he say?”

“At first his thing was Roman didn’t want to, right?”

“No one asked him,” Roxie said, picking up on that hint.

“Exactly. Then it became how it wouldn’t look good to the media. If I owned a separate house, lived on the other side of the country…? What would people say?”

“And why should you leave? It’s your house, your things, why give that up to him?”

“It might be yours and you might be there, but it doesn’t belong to you. The addict takes over everything, the house, the air, the energy. So you find yourself a corner and you wait, quietly, hoping to God they don’t come looking for you. Bed, you think will be your friend. You lie there, try to sleep while… And then he comes in. Doesn’t matter if you’re asleep or not, you fake it. Try to just breathe. Not that it matters, if he wants you awake, he wakes you up. Sleep doesn’t slow him down.”

“Don’t think he’s changed much.”

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