25
NIKKI
I think I’ve made a huge mistake.
It’s been a week since I’ve been home. Since I left Marek. And I’m not doing so great.
The crushing sadness I felt after he left that day hasn’t faded. I wasn’t prepared for this.
My plan was to come home, be independent, be brave, check my emails (haha, there’s more to it than checking them, but that’s a first step) and try to get my life back on track. I thought I’d gotten past the whole “my career is over” thing, but apparently not.
I’ve spent the last week in my pajamas, staring out the front window of my apartment at brick buildings or watchingCrossroads of the Heart. All those doubts and fears I felt after the accident came streaming back. The guilt, the grief, the sadness. The feeling of failure and belief that I have no value if I’m not a success. If I’m not producing.
When Marek left, it felt devastating. But also… unsurprising. Because this is what I deserve.
I didn’t expect him to want something real with me. That’s not him. He was always clear that he only wants fun times and hot sex. When he told me he didn’t want me to leave, panic blew up inside me. I couldn’t let myself be derailed yet again.
Right now, though, I’m terrified. I thought I could give up one for the other, and I’m not sure I can. I’ve lost Marek. And I’ve lost my career. Which means I’ve lost my fans, my team, and probably my parents. I’ve lost everything.
* * *
One day, Mabel shows up at my place. I tell the doorman to let her in, but I’m suddenly in a panic. What is she doing here?
Mabel walks in with a smile that quickly slides off her face as she takes in my appearance. I look down at my pink flannel “rosé all day” pajamas with a juice stain on the front, and run a hand through my unwashed hair. “Uh. Hi.”
“Hi.” Her forehead pinches in the middle. “I love the look. It’s giving… hot mess.”
“Gee, thanks.” Then I sigh. “I know. I don’t care.”
“Nikki.” She shuts the door behind her, kicks off her shoes, and pushes me into my apartment. “What the fuck?”
“What?” I ask defensively, crossing my arms.
“What is going on? Marek said you were doing so much better that you left.”
I swallow and lower myself to my couch. “I… was doing better.”
She regards me searchingly. “What happened?”
I look down at my knees. “I don’t know.”
She takes off her coat, a cuddly-looking brown fake fur, and sits in the chair next to me. “I was surprised that you’d gone home. It happened so fast. You never even said anything the night we watched the game.”
“I hadn’t decided then. But I thought about things and I realized I need to move on.”
“Hmmm. Did your parents tell you that?”
“Not in those words.” I bounce one shoulder. “But they were pretty disappointed that I was still ‘lying around.’”
“Oh.”
“They have high expectations of me,” I explain. I pause. “I have high expectations of myself. And I was letting all of us down.” Then I close my eyes. “I still am. I thought I could do this.” The overwhelming helplessness and hopelessness plunges over me like a net trapping me. And I can’t fight my way out.
“No,” Mabel says, distress in her voice. “People who love you understand.”
“Who loves me? My parents. That’s it. I mean, you’re a friend, but we’ve only known each other a short time. My fans supposedly love me. But I went online and all I saw on social media was people saying I was a coward for hiding and I was letting my fans down, too.” I look up at Mabel, my mouth working into an anguished pucker. “I don’t know how to get through this.”
“Marek loves you.”
