Page 92 of The Lies Always Told

“Everything hurts,” she says, still rubbing her eyes and not looking at me.

“I’m surprised you’re even awake right now. Take it, it’ll help.” She follows directions and takes the four pills, swallowing them with a big gulp. Something tells me even the 800milligrams of ibuprofen won’t be enough for her to feel better, but it’s a start. The groceries were delivered about two hours ago, and the Sancocho is cooking on the stove. The white rice to go with it is ready, thanks to two video chats with Mom to figure it out. After this, I’m going to be the Sancocho king.

“Close the curtains, Gus. I need to be in darkness. I shouldn’t have to see the light.” This. This is what I was worried about. Last night gave me insight into her feelings of despair, but it wasn’t just the alcohol. It’s what she’s feeling right now.

“Sorry to break it to you, Trouble, but this cabin you love so much has no curtains.” She grunts again, throwing herself onto the bed and wincing when her head bounces on the pillow.

“Wrong move,” she whispers, making me laugh. At least part of her sass is here. I was worried I was going to have to call her sister if she was completely out of it. I don’t want her to mask her pain and her thoughts with humor, but I also don’t want her to feel like somebody else. My Nellie laughs. My Nellie cries. But my Nellie has to come back from this. She has to.

I sit on the edge of the bed but don’t say anything, waiting for her to be the one to speak.

“I’m sorry I threw up last night.”

“Why are you sorry? It’s not like you could’ve avoided that. Are you sorry you threw up, or are you sorry you drank enough to make yourself practically pass out on the couch?”

“I’m sorry you had to witness it.”

“Nellie, be thankful I did. Do you know how dangerous that was?” I told myself I wasn’t going to bring it up. I told myself I was just going to be supportive of her today, but I would be lying to myself if I didn’t say what I’ve been thinking: how reckless it was for her to drink that much alone. “You drank almost an entire bottle of vodka by yourself, in thiscabin, away from everyone, without telling anyone where you were. That was reckless, even for you.”

“How did you even find me?” she asks.

“I listen.” I know you. I love you. All the words I want to say.

“Oh, so this was your first try? You listen so well, you knew you could find me here?” she sasses. I take a deep breath and clench my fists. I’m about to lose my shit. This is a game for her, and I’m about to lose it.

“No, Nellie. I wish I could say it was. I looked for you like a man starved. I looked for you until I had to stop and breathe because my heart rate was so high, I thought I was going to end up in the hospital. It took me entirely too long to figure it out, and then there was the drive here. Hours of not knowing. Hours of calling you and hoping you were here.”

She stares at me with panic behind her eyes. Good—maybe she gets it now. “And I found you. Imagine your sister and your family. They were so worried. Theyareso worried. You need to call them. That was so reckless, even for you.”

“I don’t need to do anything,” she snips. “All of you just need to leave me alone and stop scolding me.”

“Someone has to. And no, we won’t leave you alone.”

“No?” she asks.

“No, we’re not leaving you alone.Iwon’t leave you alone. You have so many people in your corner, and we’re all here for you.” Can’t she see it? Can’t she see we want what’s best for her? That her family could’ve lost her because she was suffering in silence—alone? Can’t she see I would give her my heart if I could, just so I could stop her pain? Can’t she see I would take it all, all the pain, for her?

“They’re all mourning their friend.” Goddamn it, Nellie. She can’t. She can’t see it.

“AND YOU WANT THEM TO MOURN YOU TOO?” I scream at her, and she flinches. Fuck. “I’m sorry, I just… We were all so scared.”

“Don’t yell at me.” She crosses her arms over her chest and lets out a breath.

“I’m trying to keep my cool, but damn it, you’re not listening. You’re watching and assuming but not listening to all of us telling you we’re here for you, telling you to trust us. I’m trying to be patient and be here for you, but damn it, Nellie, you scared me. What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.” She lets out a breath, and a tear falls down on her cheek. I’m surprised she even has tears to shed. “I wasn’t thinking. It was too much.”

“I have to ask you something, and I need you to listen carefully and answer truthfully,” I tell her. Her eyes open wide, and she nods.

“Are you trying to hurt yourself?”

“No,” she answers quickly—too quickly. I cock my head sideways as she lets out an exasperated breath. “Maybe.”

I nod, softening my features so she knows I’m both serious and understanding. “Are you trying to kill yourself?” Be direct. Be honest. Be patient. These are all things I read online when I was researching self-harm.Give them a reason but assess the situation to make sure you know if you can handle it.

“No,” she replies matter-of-factly.

“Is there someone you’d like to call?” My last question in the trifecta I saw I should ask. She shakes her head no and lies back down on the bed.

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