Page 192 of The Perfect Love

I wish I was the kind of person who could say I’m mad about that, but I’m not. Trevor defended me. Which is all the more reason I want to get home to him.

He stood up for me and got arrested, and I just walked away. I was so overwhelmed, I could barely breathe, let alone think. The most beautiful part of my life being connected to the ugliest one is the last thing I wanted, but I can’t control that.

I can only control how I let it affect me, and I refuse to let this harm my relationship with Trevor.

My therapist said today if I had ended up in this situation without Trevor having any connection to it, he still would’ve become a part of it because he’s my partner. And she’s right. I was afraid of this creating a wedge between us, but that won’t happen. I won’t let it. Trevor and I are going to stand strong. Like we’ve done everything else, we’ll face this hand in hand. I’m so ready to finally be in his arms again.

When my phone rings, I hope it’s him. He’s been respectful about giving me the space I asked for, but I miss him. I wouldn’t have been angry if he’d called.

A glance at my phone screen tells me it’s Amanda. Probably calling to check in.

She and Mackie left early yesterday morning, and I spent the entire day going through a weird version of the stages of grief. I alternated between ranting, crying, meditating, and stressing about what was going to happen, but by the end of the day, I felt better.

I answer my phone with the intention of telling Amanda I’m coming home, but when I hear her sniffling, I stop in the middle of the street, my blood running cold.

“Mands? What happened? Trevor?” Panic rises in my voice. I shouldn’t have stayed away this long. I shouldn’t have shut him out.

“No—he’s okay. It’s Sarah…” I take off running as she tells me what happened—some kind of overdose from alcohol and anxiety meds.

I need to get home to them. To my friends, my chosen family, the people who have shown up for me in the darkness and gotten me through the painful moments. And Trevor, who is undoubtedly hurting even more now. He needs me, and there’s nowhere else I want to be than by his side.

Trevor

I hate hospitals.

I hate waiting rooms.

I can’t remember a single time when I’ve been in one for a good reason.

Sarah’s going to be okay. Whatever that means. Like Hyla was okay? Yeah, it started her on a healing journey, but she still hit that horrible place to begin with. Just like Sarah did, and I gave her a little nudge to get there. Joel doesn’t blame me. No one here does, but I can’t stop blaming myself. She was hurting and broken, and I pushed her over the edge. I thought she needed to hear it, but it only made things worse. Not just for her, but for everyone here. All my friends were affected by the words I said when I was pissed and hurting. No matter what I do, I keep hurting the people I love.

My chest tightens, my stomach twisting with nausea as I rub my clammy hands together.

I’m not okay.

Chelsea said she needed time to process everything. I don’t know if she has, but I haven’t. All I’ve done is spiral deeper into negative thoughts and the numbness of my anger.

I pull out my phone and go to my texts. Nothing from Chelsea—not that I’m looking, except I always hope to see one. I called her earlier but it went straight to voicemail. Which led me to leave her a tearful, nonsensical voice message I wish I could erase now.

Pushing those thoughts away, I click on the name I came here for. My therapist. And then I ask to schedule an appointment as soon as possible. Everything that has happened in the last five days has brought the shit I need to work on front and center.

Aaron drops into a chair next to me, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“How’s Joel?” I ask.

Aaron chokes on an empty laugh. “Feeling like an idiot. He has an IV and nurses force feeding him peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

Joel’s as much of a mess as Sarah and after worrying about her and not eating or sleeping for the better part of two days, he passed out earlier.

What the fuck is happening this month? My birthday is in a week, and I’m less inclined than ever to celebrate it. Who knows what other fuckery the universe has in store for us.

“She’s awake!” Rae says, as she walks into the waiting room. She looks at her dad. “Mom’s in there. You should go too.” He kisses her on the head and walks out of the room as the rest of us stand. “She’s awake and she’s… Sarah.” A light laugh. “She knows she made a lot of mistakes and she’s hurting, but she wants to heal. She’s going to be okay, though.” Rae sniffs and wipes her eyes. “I should go tell Joel.”

“I’ll do it,” Miles says, then heads out of the room.

Rae lets out a long breath, then walks over to Aaron. “She’s going to be okay.”

He wraps her in a hug, holding her as she cries.

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