Pieces of Us

Chapter 30 Soak Me In Bleach

Lincoln

I’ve been a nervous wreck all week. Between tamping down my hypocrisy of wanting to call Amity out on fucking Jagger and then seeing them on holiday together, looking like they’re having the time of their lives, I’m surprised I have any hair left.

‘Addiction’ and ‘obsession’ aren’t strong enough words to describe what I’ve been doing over the past few days. I’m going to need physiotherapy for my thumbs, thanks to my incessant scrolling on their social media.

I am seething with envy over the experiences they got to share together, from snorkelling the Great Barrier Reef, to the scenic flights they took over the islands, to the luxurious spa and beach days they seemed to have together. A picture says a thousand words, and all of theirs scream sex, sex, sex.

In one image, Amity, Jagger, Rome and Lily are all lying naked on their stomachs getting massaged. In another, Amity and Lily are posing topless, holding up coconuts to their chests. There’s a pic of Jagger jumping off a cliff into the ocean naked, but the one that really riled me up was a solo photo of Amity, looking over the infinity pool towards the sea. I couldn’t see her profile, but I could tell she was naked from the waist up and a string of floss was centred between her crack. She may well have been stark naked, because nothing was left to the imagination. Of course, I was wrong that nothing more could rile me up, because just before they all arrived back, both she and Jagger uploaded pretty freaking intimate and erotic photos on their grams. One where I can’t be quite sure if she was naked, and then another of his hand on her ass. How do I know it was his hand and her ass? Amity has a small strawberry birthmark on one of her cheeks, which I used to run my tongue over, and he has a tattoo of a crown on his middle finger. Of course Jagger has an impromptu Men Magazine photoshoot of him almost masterbating under a waterfall, and it doesn’t take a genius to know who took those photos of his abs up close. Lily and Rome were M.I.A. from their little rendezvous, it seems.

I feel like an outsider looking in. I don’t know who this Amity is. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, that she is so comfortable with other men who aren’t me.

All of the photos, stories, reels, clips remind me how I’m not a part of her life.

I don’t know this new version of her.

I didn’t know something as big as her daily routine, or something as small and meaningless as what her favourite drink is. There was a time when no one knew her better than me, but it seems that Jagger knows her just as well.

Needing to have faith in our connection, I reason with myself that I’ll just ask her what these pictures mean. If I’ve learned anything in the last seven or eight years, it’s not to assume anything and to communicate everything.

She got back yesterday, and today is the day that she’s focused on Jas’ journalism assignment, which gives me ample time to work out what I’ll say to her. I don’t know how close she is to Jagger’s family, but I know how much she adores mine.

Even before Amity became the world’s ‘It Girl’, she was Jas’ hero, so to see her following in similar footsteps—or wanting to—warms my heart. It shreds me that I tore them away from each other.

I wasn’t planning on stopping by Dad’s, but I want to trap her at every opportunity to hang out with me. We have a finite amount of time together before the clock strikes midnight and she turns back into the world’s sexy sweetheart.

As I stride down the familiar hallway of my childhood home, I can’t help to think about the last time we were here together.

It was right before she went away. Things were hot and heavy. We’d been having sex for a few weeks, and she’d just finished sitting on my face. We had planned to take it into my bedroom but the top stair was as far as we got. She had to rush home for dinner with her parents, so she quickly swallowed me in the hallway, gave me a kiss with my cum still lingering on her tongue, and told me she’d call me later. That night, she was told she was being shipped off to Sydney.

My home has never been the same since.

Like a hound out for blood, I go in search of Jas and Hart. Even if it’s just a glimpse, I want to just lay my eyes on her for a second. They’re in Jas’ room with the door slightly ajar. I smile at the soft lilt of Amity’s voice. I know it’s wrong to eavesdrop, but I can’t help wanting to soak up every facet of her. Peeking in, ensuring I’m not seen, I spot them both casually lying back on Jas’ bed. Amity has her hands resting softly on her tummy while Jas has her notebook full of questions parked on her knees. An iPhone sits between, no doubt on record to capture Amity’s answers.

Jas is more quiet than usual, her brows furrowed. I can’t say for sure, but it looks as if her eyes are red-rimmed, while Amity seems to be sorrowfully wistful.

‘Are you sure you want to talk about this…and, um, trust me?’ Uneasiness spills from Jas’ lips, stopping my heart at her words.

Shrugging, Amity nods. ‘You said you needed to do an expose?’ She looks downcast, almost crestfallen.

‘Yeah…but you’ve never spoken about this before in the media. You made sure your lawyers made airtight non-disclosure agreements…and to be honest, I don’t even know what to ask you.’ Seeing Jas confess she doesn’t know how to handle something is alarming.

‘Sweetheart. There is no one else I would trust over you. We’ll make sure your teacher signs a non-disclosure as well, and if and when I’m ready to go public with this, I’ll just have you handle it. It could be your way into the industry.’

What the fuck? My mind jumps to the worst conclusions.

‘I would never use you that way or want to expose this. You’re my sister, Amity, no matter what whore Lincoln brings home.’

Gee, thanks sis. Way to remind the one I love that I betrayed her and brought her enemy into our home.

‘Thanks, Jas.’ She squeezes her hand, keeping them linked. ‘I want to get this off my chest first. Maybe I need to do this so I can filter what I need to say to Linc. It’ll be like a practice run.’

My body is suddenly glued to the wall—no, it isn’t just stuck to the wall, it’s magnetised, like that Gavitron ride at the carnival. I know that it’s fucking wrong to be an eavesdropping peeping tom, but I don’t want her watered down version of whatever she has to tell me. I wanted the gritty and raw account.

‘Tell me if you need to stop at any time, yeah?’ Jas has a wary expression on her face.

‘I will.’

‘Jesus. I thought when I mentioned there would be an expose element on top of all the normal questions on your success, that you’d, I don’t know, talk about fucking Jag or something,’ she bursts, still unbelieving. Amity smirks at her.

She admonishes her with a look. ‘You should know I never confirm or deny rumours, missy,’ she tutts, lightening the mood a fraction.

‘We will circle back around to this off the record, though?’

‘I don’t kiss and tell. Now let’s get into the swamp of heaviness.’ Pushing her along, they both settle back into the pillows.

‘Can you tell me when it started?’ Jas’ soft-spoken words worry me.

For God’s sake, when what started? I am about to barge in there and get the answers myself. With a hammering heart, I lean my ear up to the wall to get a better listen.

‘I was young enough to still be playing with Barbie dolls, so maybe eight? I remember looking at them and wondering why I couldn't be that perfect and thin. I was too young to realise the extent of my thoughts, but they’d crop up when I saw Lily or…well, you know who, and how petite they were. I was short, but I was stumpy and lumpy. It didn’t help that Mum was lithe and gorgeous, either. I felt like an ugly duckling. That’s when I began to wear baggier clothes. Everyone just assumed I was a tomboy, but I was hiding my growing figure.’

Sliding down the wall, I strap myself in for the trip down memory lane, which I know could end in a fiery crash and burn scenario.

‘Then what?’

‘You should ask me a more specific question. Try again,’ Amity coaxes, switching into mentor mode.

Thoughtfully, Jas tries again.

‘That must have been difficult, especially with no female role model around and your body changing.’

‘It was. As much as I love my mum, she couldn’t relate, and every time I tried to approach her, she’d tell me everyone goes through this phase. The invading thoughts stuck with me over the years but didn’t overtake me until I hit puberty when I was twelve. At that point, I was embarrassingly crushing on your god of a brother, hard.’ She rolls her eyes, as if that was an inconvenience for her, which makes me smile. Little does she know, I was infatuated with her too. ‘There was a particularly mortifying experience when Lily convinced me to wear something a little tighter and more revealing to a party. My stomach was showing, and I was wearing white bottoms. Of course, your brother hugged my waist, and I remember cringing. He probably thought it was at his touch, but it was absolutely not. It was because I felt like he was feeling my rolls. Not long after, my first period decided to start, and well, that ruined the rest of the party. Billie feigned illness at seeing the blood, and I remember your brother going after her or helping her.’ Uh. No. She basically thrust her into my arms. ‘Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, I remember looking at them through a window and seeing how much sense they made. How they were the perfect fit. He could easily manipulate her body, and she slotted right into his arms. She was the perfect ballerina.’

‘What made you think she had the ideal body as opposed to you?’

‘It was at the height of Paris Hilton being the hottest star on the planet, along with the rise of the supermodel. Every celebrity on television and in the movies looked like that. There was no diversity.’

‘Do you think pop culture influenced or distorted your idea of the “perfect body”?’

‘Good question, but rephrase it as an open-ended question.’

Jas tries again. ‘How do you think pop culture influenced or distorted your idea of the “perfect body”?’

She hits the nail on the head when she discusses celebrity culture and tabloid media idolising the idea of thinness and placing immense scrutiny on female celebrities’ bodies, weight and appearance. She accurately links this to a woman’s worth and male perceptions.

‘I don’t remember a whole lot from when I was that young, but I do always remember you wearing loose-fitting clothing. Your eating habits weren’t anything out of the ordinary, either.’ Jas tries to recollect her childhood memories.

Amity shakes her head. ‘You’re right, I hid the eating thing really well, trying every fad diet and giving up. I liked my food too much. I’m sure your brother remembers the salad phase, the shake phase, the intermittent eating phase—all of which lasted less than a week. No one saw the seriousness. I have to admit, there was a time when the majority of those fads stopped.’

‘When you got with my brother,’ Jas interrupts perceptively.

‘Yeah. He seemed to like my body.’ Like? Is she flipping mad? I was obsessed with her body. Every piece of it, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Even thinking about it now makes me semi-hard.

‘I’m sure you don’t need me to go into the details, but I always insisted on trying to cover up when we were…intimate. I couldn’t let go of what he’d think, seeing my double chin from a certain angle, or if he counted the rolls on my belly. Was he looking at the dimples in my ass or the way I jiggled and wobbled? The stretch marks were the worst. In my head, I didn’t know if he thought my body had blown out so much that I had stressed it to a point where it couldn’t balloon anymore.’

Shit.

‘Did he ever make you feel that way?’ This is my sister asking, not the journalist.

‘Of course not, but as a teenager, how do you trust that?’’

‘Why couldn’t you trust his opinion of your body?’

‘Because of his friends.’

Each sentence verbalised is creating a picture in my head that makes less and less sense. Bowing my head, I force myself to listen on.

‘Relentless whispers and bullying were going on behind my back. I never told Lily or Linc. I refused to open up that can of worms, trying to convince myself that those perceptions of me weren’t tied to my self worth, but I shrunk into myself more and more. I thought these things about my body, so of course, everyone else did too. A fact is a fact. It’s hard to dispute a notion if it’s true. I also saw how people looked at Linc and me. Walking down the street, girls from other schools would stare, confused why someone like Linc would hold hands with a fatty like me. Then, in PE, every time the teachers needed students to demonstrate something, they would pull Lincoln away from me and pair him with Billie. At restaurants, even the waiters would repeat my order to make sure I wanted an entree or dessert like it was a sin for me to want something sweet. It was in their glances, too. They would eye me up and down as if to say, “Are you sure?”’ She sighs at all the subtle instances that made her feel small.

‘What sort of whispers were going on behind your back? Can you recall any taunts or words?’

‘I was passing the guys’ locker rooms one day and I heard some of Lincoln’s friends wonder if he needed a crane to lift me, or if he could hold me against the wall and fuck me. Then, some of the girls wondered how many horse tranquilisers it would take to knock me out. They kept saying they had no idea why Linc was with someone like me. Even girls in the group would make snide comments about skipping meals and so on. There were more, but we’ll get to them later. It certainly exacerbated when I returned. I guess a catalyst was when Lincoln’s eyes used to linger on Billie, but also girls like her. When a girl would pass by with a short skirt, he’d stare for a second or two longer than maybe what was appropriate, and he’d always try to get me to wear tighter clothes. Then there was the porn he watched.’ Jas belches at the mention.

‘Let me guess, all anorexic hags with fake tits?’

‘They didn’t look like me, that’s for sure.’

I’m sure I’m having a heart attack. My heart is racing so fast at her misconceptions and insecurities. I can’t speak on behalf of the bullies, but she has it dead wrong when she says I used to stare at Billie. We were friends, and by that point, we’d had sex, so I was always on edge that she’d slip up and say something. When I looked at those girls wearing a little less than a belt, yeah, I stared, because I couldn’t believe their parents would let them out of the house like that. And as for wanting Amity to wear tighter clothes, it was only because I was obsessed with her curves. The porn thing is ludicrous. Did she even see beyond their bodies? They all had her raven hair and jade eyes. There were no blondes, brunettes or redheads to be seen.

What she is saying makes me feel sick.

‘Tell me about the straw that broke the camel's back. When did your obsession with taking weight loss drugs and starving yourself start? When did the vomiting start? When did the excessive exercise begin? Was it the depression that caused this? Who drove you to want to kill yourself?’

The thumping in my chest is excruciating. I’m not a crier. It takes a lot to break me, but my body’s physical response is to go into shock, and I suddenly find myself swiping away lines of water, coming out thick and fast. I need to remain silent, but it’s difficult when both my girls are sobbing.

‘Don’t cry for me.’

‘Just tell me.’ Jas is inconsolable, much like I am. ‘Did my brother do this to you?’

‘Yes.’

I hang my head in heavy shame.

‘How?’ Jas’ voice cracks.

‘Isn’t it obvious?’

Silence.

‘She was everything I’m not. Walking in on them with his hands all over her. Inside her. The passion and lust in his eyes. He never once looked at me that way. He was so openly affectionate with her. So obsessed, his hands all over her…then he chose her. Even when I came back. I was here…and he still chose her. Did you know that he gave his first kiss to her? His virginity? His first kid? He was with her on and off for seven years, most of them serious. Every fear was confirmation that I was always just the filler girl. Never quite what he wanted, but settled with, whether it was to not rock the boat with our dads, or just to be nice because he didn’t know how to be mean. I was always the other woman, never good enough for him. God, the way he touched her. Doted on her. Was all over her. How in-my-face they were. It felt like I was being shot in the heart every day. Coupled with the relentless, pitying stares, rumours and bullying, I knew I needed to change everything I was.’

Her muffled sniffles become excruciating whimpers. Daring to peek, I see streak marks down both their cheeks. Amity closes her eyes to block out the torment.

‘Joel, your brother’s bestie, was particularly brutal. He was basically cheering that we weren’t together anymore. He didn’t have to hide his taunts. He said them to my face in passing, mocked my clothes, ridiculed my food, insulted my looks, teased my flab, scoffed when I passed him. He was bad. Billie and her “six chicks” were worse. A week or two after I walked in on him finger fucking her in front of the whole town, they were official, and she came into the bathroom I was hiding in. I was injecting by then.’

What the fuck?

‘We’ll come back to this part.’ Jas jots down something in her notes before blowing her nose into a tissue.

Hearing this makes me wonder if we’ll ever be able to get past it. I had no idea of the extent I destroyed her. Her entire life was shattered by what I did and how I and others made her feel.

‘I was called a whale, Grimace, Homer Simpson. Just insert an overweight person or character. I was called it. I overheard them call me every fat name under the sun. I overheard that Lincoln had been secretly seeing or texting her our entire relationship. I overheard he never liked me and felt sorry for me, but he didn’t know how to get rid of me. I overheard them say he probably couldn’t find my pussy underneath all my rolls, how he loved having sex with her because he could throw her around. I believed it all. He never once told me loved me. I stabbed myself twice that day, praying the injection would work faster.’

The desperate words fall from her lips as she recounts some of the worst memories of her life. Memories I caused.

My shirt is soaked through from my tears, and I am sweating profusely from hearing my involvement in how I drove her virtually insane. I was a shit person. A shit boyfriend. I don’t deserve her. I never did. No wonder she ran for the hills.

‘Tell me about the specifics of what you did to lose the weight,’ Jas cuts into her rambling thoughts.

‘The week after Lincoln and Billie got together, I barely ate, and if I did, I stuck my fingers down my throat. I pushed them so far down that I felt the squishiness at the back of my throat that enacted my gag reflex, and I didn’t stop until my stomach was empty.’

She says it so matter-of-factly, I could swear this is a robot version of Amity talking. It’s like she has shut down a part of her to get through the past.

‘I was inconsolable, disgusted by myself. I thought that if I changed, I’d prove everyone wrong. Prove myself wrong. I managed to get onto a doctor who clinically diagnosed my BMI as “overweight”. I mean, it’s not hard when you’re my height to be overweight. I begged him to give me the weight loss injections. It didn’t take much begging, actually, and it was quite easy. I started injecting double doses for months on end. A side effect for me was that it felt like my heart was on adrenaline. With all this excess energy, I started working out. But the obsession with exercise and looking like Billie consumed me. I didn’t just work out; I exercised until I collapsed. Actually, your dad was there one time when I did. I overheard my dad and him talking about how Lincoln was giving up on me and developing feelings for her. He said he lost his virginity to her, that he overheard her bragging. A part of me blocked that revelation out until Billie confirmed it with her own mouth a few weeks ago. Dad was under the illusion that I was getting back to my old self. Happy. And getting healthy. I only let him see what I wanted him to see. I hid my addictions well. I hid my depression better. Dad simply thought I was getting a revenge body. I smiled and laughed around him. Did what I had to in order to make him think Lincoln was a thing of the past.’

‘Tell me how you felt, doing your first blog at the fashion show in your lingerie.’

‘Wanted. For the first time in my life, I felt wanted and worthy. The social media comments about how incredible I was became an addiction in itself, a high. The one person who could always make me fly was your brother until he clipped my wings, so to feel that again was nice. It propelled me to chase the feeling.’

‘What about when everyone at school saw your big reveal at the end of year twelve?’

‘Empty.’

‘Why empty?’

‘Because it still wasn’t enough to convince Lincoln that I was his girl. That I was his heart. I thought I’d care about everyone’s jaws dropping, but it made me feel worthless. I was beside myself that I’d based my worth off what your brother and others thought of me.’

‘What happened when you went to Los Angeles?’

‘It got worse.’

‘How much worse?’

‘I was in a fishbowl full of vapid women who were aesthetically perfect. Being surrounded by those people made me compete against them. My eating and weight disorders manifested from my depression. Being so far away from my home, dad and my friends heightened my addictions and compulsions. I was all alone. No one to step in and save me. I tried to run away from my problems, but they followed me. I can’t explain it other than a dark shadow permanently looming over me. The only light in my darkness was my idea of reaching perfection, and that was maintaining the fame I was amassing. I knew the only way to do that was to keep my body. If I stopped all the methods that worked, the weight would come back. In my head, it was better to be skinny and depressed than fat and depressed. My mind was fucked. I know that now. I know how fucking stupid and warped my entire reasoning and rationale was…but I couldn’t escape the thoughts. There were bouts when it got worse, and I wanted to die. I was surrounded by so much fakeness, I didn’t know what to do.’

Jas’ face falls in her hands as Amity explains in detail how her depression intensified to the point of self harm. How alone and isolated she felt. She felt that way because I made her abandon her family. Her support network. I drove her to alienate her life here.

The weight of a hand lands on my shoulder, startling me. Looking left, I can see Dad sitting beside me in his own personal torment. I don’t know how much he’s heard or how long he’s been here, but his sunken eyes tell me that it has been a while. In the midst of my breaking down, so was he. The utter regret on his face tells me he thinks he’s failed as a parent. When he squeezes my shoulder, it’s like he needs me to lean on.

‘We can stop.’ Amity’s soft murmur slices through the thick grief being felt in every corner of our home.

‘No. Tell me all of it.’

‘My career was going from strength to strength. Everyone around me applauded me. Complimented me. But none of them saw me. They didn’t see how much pain I was in. No one saw except Jagger.’

Dad and I both look at each other. He is making sure I’m okay, while my expression is masked with fear.

‘I interviewed his team. Most of the guys were, well, you know, guys, but Jag was different. He was reserved. Nothing like the media portrays him. The entire time I interviewed them, it was like he was really looking at me instead of seeing through me. It wasn’t until later that we met properly at a party. It was one of those seedy parties Hollywood throws for everyone who’s anyone. I was off the rails.’

‘What happened?’ Jas can tell something apocalyptic happened that evening.

‘I can’t remember if Dad told me, or Lily, or Rome, but someone slipped up and broke my No Lincoln rule. Anyway, a few minutes before the party, one of them accidentally told me that they saw Billie looking at wedding dresses.’

My stomach lurches and my legs start shaking. Whatever happened to Amity that night, we were the cause. Our actions. Dad steadies my wobbling knees with his hands, begging me to get my shit together so we can hear the rest of the story. He needs to know the extent of this so he too can deal with it.

‘In that second, I wished the taxi would hit a semi trailer so I could die.’ I can hear the shame in her words.

‘What made you get out of the car?’

‘The free alcohol and drugs.’

‘Did you do any that night?’

‘Not what you’re thinking. I was distracted, to say the least, but I had to plaster on a smile and make everyone believe the bubbly Amity was there from Bras and Stars. I barely spoke that night, and even if I did, I’m sure it would have come out slurred with the amount of gin I drank. I saw Jag was there, but still, he never approached. He just stared. When someone tried to shove sushi down my throat, my inebriated brain remembered I had a few weight loss pills and needles in my bag. The doctors in LA are shady fucks, and whatever I asked for, I was prescribed. Wanting to not feel anymore—to not be alive—I tore my way through the party and found an empty bathroom. I remember ripping the pill packet open, swallowing however many, and then injecting myself with even more weight loss needles. I woke up in the hospital with Jag by my bedside and Mum and Dad there. All of them were beside themselves with grief. My dad the most.’

Somehow, both Dad and I have transformed into fucking fountains. Looking at him, I silently ask when this was. ‘I remember that impromptu visit,’ he mouths. ‘He was never quite the same when he came back.’

‘I won’t lie and say I wish it worked at that moment. It took months and months of rehab, and years after that to truly understand that it wasn’t what I wanted that night. Jag, this virtual stranger, became my lifeline. My saviour. The person I needed to get me through. I know what you’re thinking.’ She shoots a pointed look at my sister. ‘I have never been in love with him. I love him. He’s one of my soulmates, but I’ve never had those feelings for him. I know it’s hard to understand, but he’s my solace. That’s why it’s so easy to be physical with him. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain Jagger’s presence in my life without sounding crazy, but it’s nothing compared to the feelings I have for your brother. Even if those feelings could obliterate me. Did obliterate me. I told Jagger everything, and not once did he lash out at your brother. He was simply there for my health and safety.’

‘Tell me more about rehab and your road to recovery.’ Jas changes the topic, satisfied with Jagger’s presence in Amity’s life.

‘It was painful. Tedious. Eye opening. Life changing. I hated the first couple of months. I was in denial. The grief stages of when you lose someone certainly apply to rehab as well, but with a lot of therapy, I was able to understand how I got to where I was. I unlearned everything I ever thought about myself, unheard everything anyone ever said about me and worked on making myself healthy. The amount of coping mechanisms I have in my armoury to get through certain triggers would make you laugh. I’ve accepted this is a lifelong illness I live with, but it isn’t debilitating. Sure, I’ve fucked up a few times, like when I first spoke to your brother at the office. Straight after our talk, I went and vomited, but I had an emergency session with my therapist and we put some strategies in place to avoid him triggering me.’

‘So Linc is your trigger?’

‘The biggest.’ She nods her head.

‘So that’s it. You’ll never get back with him again because he could drive you to kill yourself?’ Amity shakes her head adamantly but my heart still sinks, realising that I am the one who sets her off the most.

‘He holds so much power over me. He’s so much of who I am. I’m basically saying I’m my own trigger. I also know it wasn’t and isn’t fair to blame your brother for my downfall. I am responsible for my own actions.’ She’s only saying that to lessen Jas’ panic.

‘What else?’

‘I don’t think I’ll ever be healed, but I feel in control. I have worked out how to stay healthy—hence the tea line—and I like working out just as much as relaxing. I still obsess over my food, but mainly because I want it to fuel my body and maintain how hard I’ve fought for it. I almost killed myself to get it. I saw your brother eyeing me eating my salad without the dressing the other day, but truthfully, I have a kick-ass dietician who gets me ready for filming season and I’ve slacked off heaps here, so when I remember, I try to stick to it. I swear, I am in a good place. I have learned a lot about myself and the industry, and even more so about how crippling social media, bullying, pop culture and the like can be to young women. I am so proud of how far I’ve come. I thought losing your brother was the hardest thing I’d ever have to do, but crawling back from hell and death was infinitely harder.’

Dad’s anguish is evident on his face. I should know. I have the same look on mine.

‘Who else knows?’

‘My team, obviously. I have some great friends and people around me back home. They keep me grounded and know the signs if I’m spiralling. Lily and Rome know most of what I went through, but not to the extent you do. They know I went to rehab for depression, which is why I think they hate your brother so much. They inadvertently linked him to that. I don’t want their pity or their worry, and I knew they would have mountains of both if they knew the entire story. They’d even blame themselves because really, all these changes began way back in high school, if not earlier.’

‘Aunt Crystal and Uncle Mark know, obviously. I don’t know how they kept it from us.’ Jas doesn’t sound bitter, just baffled.

‘Like I said, I love Mum, but I’m a daddy’s girl through and through. Mum has been supportive, not smothering, but she’s also been absent. She trusts me to make the right decisions, which has always been her way of parenting. She was crushed and blamed herself for taking me away in the first place, but then she realised what happened to me was inevitable because of the industry we’re in. She’s seen this once or twice before. Plus, I think she’s immune to the severity of it because everyone in Hollywood ends up in rehab.’ I’m disappointed in Aunt Crystal, if that’s how she’s approached the situation.

I peek in and see a frown marring Amity’s face. ‘Dad.’ Her voice is grim. ‘He was shattered. He stayed for a month or more with me. I think he told your dad he was just going on a holiday because he couldn’t bear to look at your brother. He knew if he came back too soon, things would be said. Things that couldn’t be taken back that would irrevocably damage our families forever. I didn’t want Dad to lose Uncle Jacob. They’re each other’s soulmates, and I knew Dad would do or say something that would change that. He also didn’t want that. Dad has been amazing. We’ve had intense therapy together because he was convinced he should have known something was wrong. I do not blame my dad one bit for my decisions. He has been and always will be my idol. It’s taken some time, but I think he’s easing up on how protective he is over me. He trusts Jag with his life, so he knew I was safe with him, and I think he knows that as much as he wishes he could hold my hand throughout life, he has to let me walk alone.’

‘Why didn’t you trust us?’

An empathetic glance is given to Jas, Amity’s arm going around her shoulder.

‘Sweetheart, you were like, ten or eleven. There’s no way you could comprehend something like that. And I worship the ground your dad walks on. I know he would have felt an exaggerated amount of guilt for what his son did to me, for not noticing something was wrong. For having to choose his son over me, even if he knew Lincoln was in the wrong. There’s no way I could put that on him. I love your dad like I love my own. I also knew he’d have resentment towards Lincoln, despite being here for him because that’s what dads do. I didn’t want to put him in that compromising position. He deserves more than to pay for the sins of his son. He’s also had immense grief in his life, losing your mum. Can you imagine the trauma my nearly dying would cause him? He deserves nothing but happiness and love in his life. I vowed I wouldn’t be the one to take anything else away from him, and that included my dad and their friendship. At first, I felt so sick, hiding this part of me, but once I got a handle on things, it became easier to fall back into the easy relationship we’ve always had. I kept myself away from him and you long enough, so I was happy when both of you accepted me back into your lives and our weekly calls resumed.’

‘What about Linc?’

‘What about him?’

‘What are you going to tell him?’

‘An abridged version. He doesn’t need to be saddled with this. I’m not his responsibility, but if we are to ever move forward in any capacity, I don’t want to hide this from him, either. I am who I am today because of him. Because of Jagger. Because of me. Because of them. Because of every little thing that led me to this version of myself.’

‘I hate him and what he did to you.’ Jas breaks down, further creating a schism in my heart.

‘No.’ Amity rarely bellows, but when she does, it’s like a goddess coming down to earth to smyth all humans. ‘Don’t you dare. My weakness is not his burden to carry. Yes, he amplified the situation, but he did not do this to me. I did this to myself. He just happened to be the boy who God made me for, but he wasn’t ready for me. It could have easily been any other guy who led me down this path. He is not to blame. I know I used to think he was, but I am. No one else. You brother did nothing wrong except choose that whore over me, and even then, he might not think it was a mistake. He made some fucked up decisions in my eyes, but he did not force-feed me weight loss drugs. He did not stick his fingers down my throat or stick needles in me. He did not physically stop me from eating. Jas, you need to understand that. I know you’re young, but I believe you’re mature beyond your years. Don’t let my selfishness taint how amazing your brother is. He has been the best son and brother to you and your dad. He’s never failed you. Only me.’

I’m trying to think of all the ways one guy can be tortured, but none of them compare to the skewering Amity’s words do to me. Choking up, I clasp my hands to my throat to prevent them from hearing me. Dad rubs circles in my back, knowing that despite her words, I will blame myself for the rest of my life.

I think I’ve heard enough. So has Dad. Together, we creep back down the hall and out the back. Sinking down on our grass, we lay there silently, digesting everything we’ve just heard.

Tears of sadness weep from both of us.

Everything Jagger said makes sense now.

I feel like my entire insides and outsides have been soaked in bleach. If only it could remove the stains on my soul.