Thrive: Chapter 28

Sometimes all you can do is try.Therapist:

What do you do when trying isn’t good enough?Jay:

You tell me.Therapist:

I guess I remember I’m a Stonewood. It means you try until you succeed.Jay:

Jay

My wrecking ball demolished us. She took what we had and smashed it to the ground. I couldn’t figure out the reason; none of it added up. Still, I couldn’t argue with her. Not after the phone call I’d made to her mother.

When I’d finished the day, I went looking for her. She’d missed half of the takes that I’d nailed and had never come back.

That was the first clue.

I saw the wounded look in her eye when she’d left. She was questioning us again. Delilah shook her head when I asked her where she went. Greenville’s grapevine was alive and well, though.

Second clue: someone had seen her get into Brady’s car with her suitcase.

I called him, and he said she’d been crying. He only pried as much as she would let him. She’d told him she didn’t want to talk about it, that she needed to get home. He didn’t ask any other questions.

I knew the scenes would be hard for her to watch. I should have discussed them with her, should have put myself in her shoes. If I had to watch her make out with another man . . . well, I wouldn’t. That mouth of hers was mine, and I didn’t share the one thing I’d committed to.

Third and final knife-to-my-heart clue: after numerous calls, I gave in and phoned her mother. The woman sounded delighted when I finally got ahold of her, and Dougie was with her, smarmy as ever. They told me they’d worked it all out, that Mikka belonged there.

With each bit of information, the puzzle pieces fell into place. Mikka had realized she couldn’t do it. She’d packed her things and left me behind. She didn’t want to start anew with me. The grass wasn’t greener with me.

A bump would have made this easier. A hit of any drug I could get my hands on at this point would have made it bearable. My hands shook with the need to use. I tried to talk myself out of it, I paced my room, contemplated calling my therapist, considered bothering my family.

But I’d been doing so well.

The burden piled on to me, crumbling the walls I thought I’d built around my sobriety. And maybe sobriety wasn’t necessary if I only indulged in small amounts.

I walked to Lela’s and before I knocked, the witch of a woman swung open the door wearing a red silk robe.

“I felt you coming.” She smiled and ushered me in with the bottle that dangled from her hand.

“You’re a witch.” I walked past her, fully aware that she hadn’t backed away. It was an invitation but, for her, pretty subtle.

The smell of incense hit me. Reggae played softly, matching the bohemian feel of her forest green curtains and velvet seating. “Jesus, Lela, are you burning that in here all day?”

“Of course. It’s good for the soul,” she retorted through a laugh. Lela sat down and patted the cushion next to her. “Tell me what’s eating you so that we can make sure it doesn’t last. We need you alert for the next scene tomorrow.”

“Nothing’s eating me. I handled each scene today in one take.” I sat down next to her and nodded when she lifted the bottle in question.

She poured the red wine into one of the crystal tumblers she had sitting in a golden tray beneath the window. “Your aura shifted.”

“My aura?” I raised my eyebrows. The woman and her free spirit always made me chuckle. Now it eased me into being open.

She flitted her hands in front of her and wiggled her turquoise-ringed fingers. “Yes, you know what I mean. The tension ratcheted up, which actually worked well for what we had to film. Is it just our chemistry? I don’t know, but I feel your moods. Your tension from before has turned into a fog of darkness. Something is weighing on you so heavily it’s dimming my lighting.”

Her exaggeration or maybe her description was the only thing that could have made me laugh right then. I shook my head as I did and then grabbed the wine to gulp it down.

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m the only one that can work well with you in this role. Well…” She looked up to the ceiling, considering it. “Yes, I can safely say I’m the best person to ever play opposite you. This movie will be our Oscar-winning performance, maybe the best onscreen chemistry for years to come.”

I nodded. “I don’t know if I believe your witchy magic, woman, but I believe that.”

She shrugged. “So, what’s it going to take to bring your mind back to the set one hundred percent?”

I sighed and fell back into the seat cushions. I rubbed my forehead, trying to find a way to say what I needed to say. Lela was only invested so far as it affected the movie, not as a friend, not as a member of my hometown, and not as someone close to Mikka. And maybe her lack of care for my relationships made it easier to open up to her.

“What if I relapsed?” I glanced at her. She knew the stakes for this movie and that I could potentially lose my role if I did.

“Will that make you give your best performance at this point?” She narrowed her eyes.

“It might.” I dragged a hand over my face. “I lost the one thing I wanted, and I’m pretty damn sure I can’t forget that unless I have a pick-me-up for these scenes.”

“Okay. Then, I’ve got just the thing.”

She lifted the rest of the crystal glasses from the tray and then slid the bottom of it out. Underneath, I saw small bags of powder, white as fresh fallen snow.

The shaking in my hands started again. My heartbeat raced, speeding up the pumping of blood through my veins.

I’d lost the one woman I’d committed to. The one addiction I wanted to indulge in most. She’d left me for greener pastures.

But my drug, this drug, never left.

It was as committed to me as I was to it.