I twist off the cap and pour six, maybe seven of the little white pills into my hand. At this moment, nothing has made more sense.
What’s the common denominator in every sorrowful situation over the last few years?
Me.
I’m the root of everyone’s problems. I’m always going to be the reason behind Jonny’s obsession and determination to hurt others, and I can’t live with that guilt.
I take the toothbrushes out of the cup, and fill it with water. It doesn’t even take me a second thought to know that this is the right decision. I throw the handful of pills into my mouth, and wash them down.
I tip a second handful of pills into my palm when Jonny knocks hard on the door. It makes me jump and nearly all of them go skittering across the floor.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I call, nervously.
“Arianna, what are you doing?”
“Nothing, I’m just about to get into the shower.”
“You’re not deliberately keeping me waiting, are you? Because you know how much I hate to be kept waiting, baby.”
“No.” I laugh, “Of course not. You want me to look my best, right?”
“Of course.” I hear the smile in his voice.
“How would you like me to wear my hair?” I ask, stalling for time. Even five more minutes is a bonus.
I pick up as many pills as I can off of the floor, as I’m reluctant to tip the bottle for fear of him hearing the rattle those tiny little pills make, and knowing Jonny he’s pressing his ear up against the hardwood.
“Wear it up,” he requests. “Something elegant, so I can see your beautiful neck.”
“Okay,” I call.
How many have I had already? Is that enough?
I take the few more that I’ve gathered up from the floor and start to run the shower. I slip off the robe, wincing as the motion twists my newly injured ribs.
The shower is heavenly, the water cascades over my body and I feel remarkably calm considering the situation I’m in. There’s something very freeing about taking control of your destiny, taking control of your life, even if it is for just a few more hours. I wrap my arms around my aching ribs and drop my chin to my chest.
When I think of Denham, my heart feels heavy. I don’t regret this. Not one bit. But I do regret ever getting involved with Jonny Ellison. I regret it for all the hurt and pain he has caused for so many people.
If only I could have stopped it.
If only things could have been different.
If only …
I close my eyes tight and think of all the good things that have happened. Every happy memory has Denham in it.
The night we played roulette in the casino.
Our first date and the fountain.
Our evening dancing at the rooftop lounge.
Our first time. The time he locked us in the gym. The time on the roof.
The playing card …Every King needs a queen …
Pure, true, untainted happiness like I never thought I would be lucky enough to have.
