Page 68 of If It Can't Be Us

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I have a feeling you might think that you do, though, yeah?”

A wicked grin spreads across her face. “Well, now that you’ve asked…” She pauses. “I think it has something to do with Vivian.”

“And why do you think that?”

“Because you were a mess last night,” she states, wide-eyed, her eyebrows raised. “You showed up here at midnight drunker than a skunk, Leo. Piper opened the door, and you came waltzing in here, rambling on about all sorts of things with Vivian… Vivian this and Vivian that, how you had fucked everything up. God knows what happened; you weren’t making any sense, and every word slurred together. You went straight to the liquor cabinet and poured yourself a glass… aglassof tequila, which I was able to get out of your hands after you had drunk half of it.” I grimace, and she continues. “You then proceeded to want to”—she makes air quotes—“‘talk.’ Luckily, I talked Piper into getting back to bed and letting me handle you. She had a staff meeting at 8 AM.”

“God, I’m sorry. I’ll apologize to Piper when I see her.”

“Oh, I’m not done,” she cuts me off. “I sat here with you while you rambled. An hour later, you puked in the kitchen sink.”

I scrunch my face. “I did?”

She nods again.

“At least I didn’t pee on the wall again… I didn’t, right?” I ask hopefully.

“No, you didn’t pee on the wall,” she says, nudging me lightly. “I won’t push you, but I think we should talk about it.” She flashes me a playful grin. “You know I’ll figure it out eventually, or worse, I'll try to guess what’s going on and constantly bother you about it until I get close.”

“That,I cannot deal with,” I say, chuckling. “Okay,” I hesitate, “but I don’t know what I was talking about last night. The last thing I rememberwas leaving Vivian’s house. Probably around 10:30. We’d had dinner and went to the Christmas market.”

“You had dinner and went to the Christmas Market… that’s it? Were you two drinking? How did you get annihilated in just ninety minutes?”

“Yeah, I had a couple of drinks with Viv.”

“Well, if that’s the last thing you remember, then you must have had more than a couple.”

“Oh wait. It’s coming back to me. I went to my house. Yeah. I went to my house and took some shots of whiskey, and then I went for a walk… I don’t remember whether I was planning to come here or not. I may have stopped at a few bars along the way,” I shake my head in utter disbelief. “I don’t know, and then I guess I ended up here. I’m sorry for disrupting your night with Piper and for the inconvenience… and drinking your tequila… and for puking in the sink.” I run my hands through my hair. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m concerned more than anything. I haven’t seen you that drunk since you were in your twenties.”

“Well you didn’t come to Mexico,” I say laughing.

She laughs. “Seriously, I’m worried about you. This isn’t like you. You’re one of the most responsible drinkers I’ve ever met. I’ve only known you to get this drunk a handful of times. You weren’t just drunk, you were plastered… and upset.”

“I know. I didn’t intentionally get smashed. Does that make it any better?”

She holds her thumb and index finger an inch away from each other, “A little,” she says. “Can we unpack this? Why did you leave Vivian’s and immediately take shots when you got to your house?”

“Ugh,” I groan, “don’t make me talk about it.”

She’s quiet for a moment. “You know you can talk to me,” she puts her hand on my knee and gives it a small shake. “I’m your person, Leo. Yourin case of emergencyperson, your friend, your therapist—well you don’t actually pay for my words of wisdom… but I’m the person you tell your deepest darkest secrets to, that’s me.” She gives me a playful nudge. “Come on, what happened?”

I glance at her while sinking back into the sofa, my head resting on the back of the pillow, staring at the ceiling straight above. She knows me too well. She really is my person, has been for a long time. Mer and I met at University. We were in the same PhD program, and she’s the only one who knows about my mum. Michael knows she died when I was ten, but Mer… she knows everything. I’ve never kept anything from her and honestly, there’s no point trying. She’s insightful as hell, and she’ll eventually find out anyway.

“I don’t know. Last night was… intense. We made-out. Things got heated, and I wanted it to go further, but I freaked out… I pulled away. I was scared of what it would mean, scared to care about her… of losing her, scared of fucking everything up.”

She nods, listening intently. “And that’s why you drank yourself into oblivion?”

“Yeah, I guess so. When I stopped, she was really upset with me. She told me to get the fuck out…” I groan, giving Meredith a sidelong glance.

She nods in understanding, urging me to go on.

“She didn’t want to talk, said she could hardly look at me. I just… I didn’t know how to handle it. Seeing her, wanting her, feeling out of control—not just emotionally, but physically, too. It was like my body had a mind of its own. God, I’ve spent the last thirteen years avoiding anything that could make me feel this way, it’s been my coping mechanism, and now it’s all backfiring.”

I take a swig of the concoction Meredith made for me. My friend Brian and I discovered the hangover cure our first year in college, and I’ve shared it with all of my close friends since then.

I bring a hand up to the back of my neck and press hard against the base of my skull, releasing the tension that’s pounding through my head. “Vivian shared some things about her past a few weeks ago. It’s heavy stuff. She’s a champ, though—doing everything right, taking every step to heal.”

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