“You need to work through your shit,” he said. “And you need to ask for help sometimes. You have to tell people when it’s bad, and not just wait until you’re circling the drain.”
He continued pacing, his fists propped on his hips.
“I don’t want to be a dick but, seriously, Sam, you need to deal with this. Get help. Talk to someone. Anything.”
“I know.”
“If you know, you should fucking do it,” he said.
There was something I wanted to say but it stuck in my throat and I couldn’t push past the heavy throb in my head. I fell asleep, and though I knew doctors and nurses were checking my vitals and drawing blood, I couldn’t force my eyes open.
Later, Riley tossed some clean clothes at me and instructed me to get dressed. We drove home in silence, and he marched me to my room. I was still exhausted and didn’t need any help deciding to get into bed.
“Take the meeting with Turlan tomorrow,” I said. Riley nodded, but didn’t move. “And . . . the rest of my meetings. Tell them I have the flu, or whatever. I don’t care what you say, but I don’t want to see anyone.”
I didn’t get out of bed all week.
I lost track of the world beyond the firehouse, spending my days numb and trapped in the maze of my thoughts. They circled and closed in on themselves, and they turned darker as the week went on. I doubled and tripled the dose on my sleeping pills and spent the better portion of every night in a blank, dreamless space.
It didn’t matter whether I woke up anymore.
I was there, but I wasn’t.
I pushed away from the table while my siblings discussed their projects, and I stared out the window at the sun-drenched street below. People were going about their lives, walking to school and work, arguing about politics and sports, cursing the weather. For everyone out there, life continued.
For me, life was shattering.
Eight months ago, I thought I’d found my new low.
I was wrong.
I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t pretend that after everything we’d been through together, I could survive Tiel walking away from me or the things I’d done.
There was only one option left for me. I sat there, arms crossed over my chest and my feet propped on the windowsill, and I built my plan.
There were many things to get in order, and if I was doing this today, I had to work quickly. For the first time in ages, my mind wasn’t fixated on germs or Angus or my broken fucking heart, and I was able to construct my action plan while my siblings talked over me.
“Hey,” Riley murmured, tapping my arm. “You want me to handle Turlan?”
I didn’t have to look up to know every eye was trained on me. “Yeah,” I said. “It’s all yours.”
He spoke but I didn’t listen. There was a time when the Turlan project mattered to me; hell, there was a time when anything mattered. It was long gone.
The meeting eventually finished and I made my way back to my office. I didn’t let myself think about anything but the plan, and dug into the arrangements. It took the entire day and I only stepped out of my office for quick trips to the bathroom and printer. I forwarded all calls to voicemail, and I debated turning off my phone but there was a sliver of hope that Tiel would call or text and I couldn’t risk missing that.
Shannon and Patrick held a weekly five o’clock budget meeting in her office, and I knew I’d find them there once my plans were finalized. Not wanting to return to the office after speaking with them, I grabbed my suit coat and messenger bag, and carried them down the stairs with me.
I stood in the doorway while they hunched over a spreadsheet on Patrick’s screen, and waited. Shannon noticed me first, and then elbowed Patrick. “Hey, what’s up?” she asked. She settled into her chair and he sat on the edge of her desk.
“I can’t be here anymore,” I said.
Shannon and Patrick exchanged quick glances, and she grabbed a pen from the silver jar beside her laptop. She was a compulsive tapper; it was what she did when the silences turned uncomfortable.
“Would you care to explain that one?” she asked.
I shifted the bag to my other hand with a sigh. “I’d like to take some time off. I’ve finalized designs and detailed notes for all of my projects, and I’ve left them all for Riley. Everything is on my desk, and backed up on the server.” Shifting again, I ran my hand through my hair and the motion immediately brought back every memory of Tiel’s fingers sliding over my scalp. “I need to be away from here. Please.”
Shannon and Patrick exchanged another glance, and spoke simultaneously.
