Page 18 of Come Home to Me

“We’d get in so much trouble when we finally came out,” Colton says quietly.

I close my eyes and conjure up more memories. “Didn’t we, though?”

“Remember how good it smelled in the spring? When the blossoms were in bloom? It was like a whole different world in there.” His words are soft, nearly a whisper. Leave it to Colton to know what I need.

Something beautiful and wonderful.

Something soothing and constant.

A memory from before things went to hell.

“I miss it sometimes,” I say before I can think better of it. “Being a kid. I wish I could go back and fix everything that went wrong.”

“There’s nothing we can do about the past, but the future is one hundred percent in our control.” Colton pauses. I’m sure he’s about to ask what happened all those years ago, but as he always has, he moves on to safer topics. “Mom sends her love.” His words bring a lump to my throat. “So does David. And Tessa.”

I swallow my emotions and wipe at my stinging eyes. “Tell them I love them, too.”

“Mom’s still here for you, you know. If you’re really in trouble, I’m sure she’d send you money if you needed it.”

I shift as my chest tightens. “I might be a selfish jerk, but even I realize how shitty that would be. I’ve only talked to Mom twice in the last five years.” I glance at the driver, suddenly aware he can hear everything I say. We lock eyes through the rearview. I scowl. He looks away and I lower my voice. “I will not be that person who finally calls her because I need something.”

“I get that. In fact, I respect that, and I don’t respect much of what you do, so, take that for what it is.” Colton laughs to take the sting out of his statement. “I’ve got some money set aside. If you need help…”

“Thank you for that. Really. But, I got myself into this situation. I’ll get myself out of it.” I draw a finger down the window. “Did Dad say anything?”

I regret the question as soon as the words leave my lips. Whatever the answer is, I’m not equipped to handle it. Not on my best days, and certainly not on a day like today. There aren’t enough pills in the world to smudge the pain I feel when I think of my father.

Colton clears his throat. “No, Sarah. He didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“No, no. It’s okay. It is what it is. It might have been too much to handle if he had, you know?” I force a laugh. The cabbie pulls to a stop in front of my hotel and I pinch the phone between my ear and shoulder while I pay him. “Thanks for letting me vent,” I say to Colton as I scramble out of the car and onto the sidewalk.

“Any time, sister. Really. I’m here for you.”

I pause in front of my hotel, sucking in air and swallowing back tears. “Thank you,” I murmur before ending the call. “I love you,” I whisper to the dark screen.

The trip to my room is an exercise in control.

One step.

Then another.

And another.

Keep moving through the building. Head up, chin lifted, face stoic. Don’t let them see the swirl of panic in my belly. Don’t let them see the deluge of tears behind my eyes.

Don’t let them see me fall apart.

The moment the door swings shut behind me, I fall to pieces, shaking and quaking on the bed, the cheap comforter scratching my cheek.

“You’re okay,” I whisper. “You’re okay.”

But I’m not.

I’m stuck here and I’m running out of money. I need to move out of this hotel and into one I can afford—just thinking about the pictures I saw online makes me cringe. I applied for a job I may not be qualified for and I’m definitely not equipped to handle. My car is in the shop. I spent two hours in an elevator, terrified I might fall to my death, while staring at the one man I’ve ever spent an evening with who didn’t take me home, fuck me, and disappear.

The one man I’ve ever wanted to see again.

And again.

And again.

And with all that on my plate, all the heavy emotions pressing down on my shoulders and spinning in my stomach, with the aching hole of fear throbbing in my chest, I decided to ask Colton about Dad.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Do I like feeling this way? Why do I keep making choices that only make things worse?

Lungs burning, eyes throbbing, body quaking, I push myself into a sitting position. Grab my purse. Fumble with my prescription bottle. And swallow another pill.

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