Chapter 85
“ C ome downstairs and eat with us this morning.” My mom sits on my bed, and I turn away from her. “I’m not asking, Peace.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You need to eat, honey.” She pulls my hair back from my face. “Look at me, baby.”
I roll over and face her.
“We’ll get through this together,” she says firmly. “It’s not the end of the world.”
“It sure feels like it.” I love Bo deeply, and I have nowhere to put all that love. I feel like a balloon stretched to its limits and about to burst.
“I know it does right now, but it will blow over. Something new will come along to get the media’s attention.” She tucks a strand behind my ear, and the tender gesture reminds me of Bo. Just thinking about him, razor-sharp and sudden pain slices through my chest. For a long moment, I can’t even breathe.
“Don’t do that.” I remove my mother’s hand. “He used to do that.”
“Bo?” she guesses.
“Yes.” My sinuses prickle, but I told myself I wouldn’t cry anymore.
“Do you want to talk about it?” She takes my hand and tucks it between hers.
“No.” I shake my head sadly. The person I most want to talk to, I can’t. It’s been days. The silence on Bo’s end is telling. He’s moved on. Of course he has after all that happened. He’s probably fucked a million groupies since I left. I’d search social media for the closure I don’t want, but they took my phone and computer away.
“I want my phone back,” I demand, then soften. “Please.”
“We discussed this.” She gives me a stern, motherly look. “You’ll get it back when you leave this room and schedule an appointment with the therapist we found.”
“Talking won’t help,” I grumble.
“It will,” she disagrees.
“How can you be so sure?” I argue.
“Because I’ve done it. Your dad has. Nearly every member of Tempest has seen a therapist at one time or another. They’re all very vocal advocates for positive mental health.” Her brows pinch together. “There’s no shame in seeking professional help when you need it, honey. In fact, it’s one of the bravest decisions you can make.”
“I don’t know.” I sit up in my bed and pluck at the sheet, but I give that some consideration.
“While you think about it,” she continues, “I should mention that Alex has offered to video chat so he can be with you for your first therapy session. He already cleared it with the doctor.”
I wouldn’t be alone. Alex knows everything. He’s wise. He loves me, and he believes in me. It seems lately like maybe my parents do too.
“Okay.” I pull in a big girl breath. “I’ll do it.” Going to the therapist won’t change the core issue of my being in love with my best friend and him not feeling the same way about me. But it might help me process that and all the other things I’m dealing with. Bo isn’t the only one with damaged self-esteem.
“I’m proud of you.” She nods affirmingly.
“Really?” I tilt my head. “After the whole world has seen those compromising photos of me.”
She winces. “I’ve done my fair share of things I wish hadn’t been quite so public.”
“Like what?” This is a side of my mother I haven’t seen before. I grew up believing she was perfect. That I had zero chance to measure up.
“Getting hammered. Hanging with the wrong crowd. Trusting someone I shouldn’t and running from someone I should have given another chance.”
I narrow my gaze. “Do these things involve Dad?”
“Your dad some and your uncle. There was even blackmail involved before we officially got together.”
My eyes grow large.
“Come downstairs, honey. We messed up. We feel awful that we weren’t there when you needed us. Not the way we should have been.” She frowns and her gaze turns reflective. “We didn’t see the signs. We didn’t know the bullying was so severe. Missing that is on us, though, not you. We didn’t pay attention the way we should have. But we love you unconditionally. We’re trying to be better. And we’re hoping you can give us another chance.”
“I can do that.” I want to do that. I need all the support I can get.
“Thank you.” She squeezes my hand.
“Can I have my phone back now?” I press. “Since I’m going to the therapist and everything.”
“We actually purchased you a new one with a new phone number and everything.” Her lips purse with displeasure. “The media somehow got the old number. We didn’t want them hassling you. We wanted to give you a chance to have a fresh start.”
She releases my hand and withdraws a cell from the front pocket of her indigo jeans.
I take it. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Don’t go looking at posts or reading comments,” she admonishes.
“I won’t.”
“I’ll give you some advice that someone wise gave me early on in my career.” She pulls in a breath and lets it out. “People will think whatever they want to think. Only the opinions of those who know and truly care about you matter.”
“That’s good advice.” In my head, I know it is. But inside my heart, the criticisms from strangers still hurts.
“Call your sister. She wants to talk to you. Says it’s important.” She rises and pats my hand. “But maybe take a shower first.”
“Do I stink?”
“A little.” She wrinkles her nose.
“Hey,” I say when Harmony picks up her phone. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I dry my freshly shampooed wet hair with a towel.
“How are you?” she asks, sounding worried, and I feel guilty hearing her concern. I know she’s going through a difficult time too.
“Horrible,” I reply truthfully because if you can’t be truthful with those you love, what’s the point? “But maybe a little bit better.” After all, I don’t stink anymore. I’ve made up my mind to see the therapist. I’m taking that brave first step. That’s progress, and I’m in a much better place with my parents. “How are you?”
“Horrible for me too.” She sighs. “But I feel better just hearing your voice. It’ll be good to come home if you’re there.”
“I’m here.” For the time being. I have a medical excuse for not being at work, but that approved leave isn’t indefinite.
“I spoke to Bo last night,” she confides, and I freeze solid.
“And?” I whisper, my heart racing.
“He says he needs to talk to you. Mentioned he’s fucked without you. I gave him this number.”
My heart practically jumps out of my chest as all that sinks in.
“Are you still there?”
“Yes,” I reply. “Barely. This is unexpected.”
“Has he called?”
“Not that I know of, but Mom just gave me this phone.” I swipe to messages, holding my breath and letting it out in a rush when I see a voice mail from him. “I think maybe he did.”
“Good. For what it’s worth, he sounded terrible.”
I don’t know what to do with all this information. I’m afraid to hope.
“I’m not going to tell you what to do,” she continues, “but I want you to know that I love you, and I support you.”
“That means a lot, Harm.”
“Yeah.” She snorts. “It’s me, flaws and all, but I really do love you, and I’m gonna try to do better.”
“That’s what Mom and Dad said,” I share.
“Think all this has been a wake-up call for them.” Her tone lightens. “Like hello, one daughter almost drowned. Another was hospitalized. Maybe it’s time for a change.”
“Not entirely their fault.” I cut them some slack.
“I guess I get that now,” she mumbles.
“Is therapy in rehab helping?” I ask.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“They want me to see a therapist too,” I tell her.
“You going?”
“Yeah.”
“We’re one royally fucked-up family,” she concludes.
“I think everyone’s a little fucked-up,” I say. “If they don’t admit it, they’re probably lying.”
“You got that right,” she agrees. “You gonna listen to Bo’s message now?”
“Yes.” I nod even though she can’t see me.
“I’ll be here if you need me afterward.”
“Love you, Harm.” My heart swells with love for her. “Proud of you for taking care of yourself.”
“Same,” she whispers. “Love you, Peace.”
Ending the call, I feel better after talking to her, braver about facing the future than I have since I saw the photos. I’m still hurting. That old saying about words not hurting is bullshit. But knowing my parents, my sister, and my uncle support me makes a difference. Alex was right about that. I straighten my shoulders and hit play on the message.
“Peace.” Bo’s deep voice gives me a pleasurable shiver.
“I fucked up. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did at the radio station. I was jealous and scared. I was afraid to lose you. But those are excuses and giving fear and anger control of your life is just plain stupid when the better, smarter option is love. You showed me the right way to care about somebody, and you did that when you were just a kid. You blazed into my life like a shooting star. From the beginning, you saw me in a way I couldn’t see myself. I love you, baby. The wall of attitude I put up to keep everyone out, that wall is down now because of you. I don’t need walls when I have you. I miss you, man, how I miss you. You were right here, but I couldn’t reach you because I got in my own way. Forgive me, please. Give me one more chance. I won’t let you down. I miss touching you, holding you, being inside you. And I miss all the other stuff too. Talking. Sharing. Laughing. Making plans together. I dream of you. Your lips. Your scent. The taste of you. Call me. Please. You’re my only one, and I’m yours always.”