***
Looking up at the room where only forty-eight hours ago I found my love near dead, I swallowed the lump in my throat. My body moved on its own accord toward the building that I want nothing more to do than burn it to the ground. I stepped forward and inside when I reached the lobby, my heart was pounding in my chest and I felt bile rising in my throat. The doorman nearly blew a coronary when he saw me, and I gave him a reassuring smile that ended up shakier than I would have liked. “Mr. James, you’re back,” he said, his voice shocked. “Are you alright? Is Tru alright?” he asked me his tone shaking like mine. “She will be.” I smiled at him as I hit the button on the lift and the doors pinged open. Stepping inside, my body shook as my hands dove into my pockets to stop them from shaking.
I take in a deep lungful of air before I stepped into her apartment. The door is still ajar; the wood splintered and hanging from its hinges. Another mental note get the door fixed.
Blood was pumping through my veins thick and hot as I looked across the room. She had hung black mesh curtains. Was that to black out the image of me so she couldn’t see my place from hers? These places for the both of us hold so many memories and harbor so many demons of the past. She was my greatest masterpiece and I played her like the strings on my guitar with passion so hot. Just like her grandad did with his love right up until the end. Now look at us, all four of us are just broken melodies. As I walked over to the window and pulled the black mesh open, the thought of going back to my apartment suddenly crippled me there on the spot.
The whole damned place smelled of her. Roses, vanilla and sugar mixed into a concoction that was wreaking havoc on my senses. Her clothes lay discarded on the floor, amongst all the mess. She really has become lost.
I couldn’t help myself.
I picked up her shirt, covered in lipstick stains and mascara. Fuck, it smelled so much like her and I could have cried fucking broken tears on the spot. I’ve never wanted someone this much. Craved them, unable to resist them, yet I look at how I handled it. Instead of handling it with care, I used and abused. She was my everything, I wanted to be all that she touched, the clothes that she wore, the bed sheets she wrapped herself in.
I was acting like an addict and I didn’t even give a shit. I would’ve done anything to find her sleeping in that bed right now. I’d take her in my arms and kiss those lips that taste so good under mine.
I walked around with her shirt clutched tightly to my chest. Every single thing in her apartment sung to me, telling me Tru’s story since I had left.
Even if she didn’t want it told.
Everything spoke of her personality, of her amazing mind. Of the dark days and lonely nights, the bottles of empty pills, the cut-up sheets of acid and LSD. The bottles of liquor and the fact that she now drank the cheapest coffee, the instant variety, not one from her fancy espresso machine that I once gave her such a hard time about. It made me grin for the first time in days. Her toothbrush was a kid’s one, red Christmas themed with little snowmen and snowflakes. It was so fucking perfect, so her that I laughed out loud in the bathroom. She had a closet full of clothes and it looked like a closet full on the floor also. I have never seen such disarray from her before. It seemed like there were three extremes one I had never seen before—extremely sexy, tight little dresses for going out, mixed with comfy loungewear and Christmas themed clothing. On the floor next to the bed lay dropped photos of us, happy in this very room under the sheets and then me on tour photos from my social media and the one from the club. The one that bitch sent her. She had tortured herself over this, me and my fucked-up ways. Pills were everywhere along with weed pipes and bongs which lay strewn over the room. It was like a scene from one of my hotel room parties and it made me feel sick that my girl, my baby, had resorted to this state. This way of living like she was trying to live like me to keep me.
My hoodie was in her bed on the side that I slept on, wrapped around a pillow. I can just imagine now, if I closed my eyes hard, her tiny body wrapped around that pillow wishing it was me as she closed her eyes and I broke her heart. Picking it up, it smelt of me mixed with her sweet scent. Underneath the pillow was a photo of us on the beach as the sun set. This photo was taken the night I said I was leaving. Stuck to it was a post it note that said.
‘Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies, as I lay here and close my eyes please Jay lie to me.’ Her fruit basket was empty and that was always full of fruit that she would eat all damn day.
Opening the fridge door there was no bottles of water or that fancy yogurt that she loved to eat. There was nothing but half a bottle of lumpy milk and a carrot.
It looked like she was living on cheap coffee and pills. Ridiculous. The urge to take care of her awoke inside of me. A yearning to cook for her, to make her proper stuff to eat. To let her know she couldn’t live like this, filling her belly with booze and pills.
I went through everything from that moment and scooped up all the pills and bottles, the booze and bongs. Taking the pipes and weed, the empty sheets of trips that she had cut with a razor blade, I threw it all into black trash bags before ringing my own personal cleaning service to come and clean up this mess that had become Tru’s life. Next was packing her a bag with all the things I could think of that she could ever need and want while we were away getting her better. I was taking her from this place, this city, this apartment with its ghosts and view. She was coming away with me and I would never let anything touch her again.
Her toiletries, the Christmas toothbrush, her socks and hoodies. The rabbit slippers and the robe with tiny dots all over it. I threw in my hoodie, the photos, the post it note and her book that lay open beside her bed, along with her diary that I had to fight with myself not to read after catching the first line of one page, her writing so neat so beautiful.—you left me here stranded in love all alone. I shook as I placed that inside her handbag with her charger, her makeup bag and her headphones. My hands shook worse as I zipped it up and stepped closer to her lingerie drawer, the one I’d skipped when I was looking through her closet. I took all of what I thought she needed, and I also grabbed handfuls of items not knowing what I was taking. If it’s all wrong I will buy her more. I can’t stand to stay and look at all the little lacey numbers, all the items that I have envisioned taking off her since the day I left. I know just how stunning her body looks wearing such small sexy items.
Her smell hit my nose hard. Roses, vanilla and sugar, always roses, vanilla and sugar. Her custom scent that I could get lost in for days and not even care.
I leaned against the chest of drawers and exhaled slowly. It was starting to hit me that I was meant to be on tour and I just left with no explanation and no contact other than Mike. I hadn’t charged my phone. That went flat after I rang Bella. I was out of my mind with worry and on the world’s most epic come down. That was the moment, with my hands holding a red lacy bra, that the walls suddenly felt threatening, like they were closing in on me and threatening to crush me. I leaned my palm against the doorway and tried to breathe the way that the doctor, that Mike had found and who cost far too much, had told me to. Slow, steady breaths. It was half the fight, or so she claimed, but I couldn’t bring myself to be calmer about the situation. Tru was everywhere in her apartment, her presence cloying even without her actually being there. And suddenly it was all too much. Stumbling out of the room as shit started to spin and become all crazy inside my head, I grabbed the bags I had packed and left. I managed to get outside, my legs shaking and my chest heaving. I needed to get away from all this shit, away from Tru and the memories. All the shattered dreams and broken promises for one second, because I couldn’t think straight with her all around me like a ghost haunting and a demon taunting. I was in over my head and couldn’t handle it. I was too consumed by guilt and the need to make this all right to fix her and saveus both. I got to the lift and took it all the way down to the lobby telling the old man who smiled when he seen me with packed bags that the cleaners were coming and a handyman to fix the door he just nodded as his lips moved slow and quietly. My brain strained trying to make sense of what he was saying. All I really got was “that sounds fine.” I know he said more and by the look of confusion his face I knew he had, and he was expecting me to answer.
My legs were feeling heavy as fuck as I walked out of the lobby and onto the street. A group of women were passing, and one of them winked at me as the others mouth hung open, they knew who I was. Fuck was what hit me the press will have a field day it won’t take long.
I made my way back to my building with my breath coming in short, rasps. I was a fucking mess. I could barely even walk let alone carry these suitcases and her handbag. Fuck, the state of me. I still had to enter my lobby and the thought of facing the doorman seemed too daunting to even think about. So, I just walked in strong, fake and not even breathing. He smiled at me as I walked past his desk my finger came up to my mouth to usher a shhhh and he nodded. He knew, and I was glad it was him and not the young guy. I was also glad that since I am meant to be on tour that there is no paps or groupies out front.
I half-fell, half-ran through my door that wasn’t locked as I was expecting it to be. I take deep, labored breaths as I collapsed on the plush grey carpeted floor. I tried thinking calming thoughts, but of course I failed miserably. I couldn’t stop it, the fear, the panic, and the adrenaline settling in, the intoxicating mixture was dizzying. It took several excruciatingly long minutes to feel human again, and when I could finally trust myself enough, I picked myself off the floor and walked through into the living room falling onto the couch. My eyes fall onto her apartment as memories of better times flood me. My lids become too heavy and before I knew it dark engulfed me and took my stressed mind on a tailspin deep down into the quiet.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tru
I woke to light spilling in the room, making it bright and loud. Looking around me I realized where I was and that it wasn’t a dream. He was here, is here. He saved me from me and now I have to feel again.
He wasn’t here now though. I was alone with just the sound of that fucking machine. Closing my eyes against the bright light for a few moments before I opened them and pulled the damn wires from my body and the line that was in my hand and the one from the seam of my elbow. I lay there in bed while the fluid dripped down my arm staring at the ceiling above me. There was a small crack above my head, and for a second, my heart pounded at the thought of the ceiling coming crashing down on me, just like my life had crashed down around me over the last few months.
Shaking my head to get the thoughts out, fear gripped me and the desire to numb the world away overtook me.
I pulled myself up and sat on the edge of the bed. My phone was ringing incessantly, the noise bashing on the soft parts of my brain causing extreme pain. I shuddered as I looked over at it on the cream-colored table next to my hospital bed. Blairs number was flashing on the screen like crazy. I knew I needed to pick up, but answering his call meant owning up to my actions, actions that caused him pain and embarrassment in the house he worshiped. I’d also have to admit I had a problem and was in the hospital from an overdose.
I was too scared to do that just yet.
Dragging myself off the bed made my head explode in white noise and more pain. I managed to get myself to the bathroom. Avoiding the mirror above the sink I turned the tap on and kept my head hung low splashing cold water over my face then cupping handfuls of water, raising it to my lips and drinking it hungrily, gulping down the calming liquid before I turned and walked over to the shower. Flicking the faucet to hot I step in even before the water could heat to scalding. I needed to shock my system into submission as the need to get high took over.
