Chapter 36
36
OPHELIA
“I t was crazy, Ophie. I’ve never seen them act like that before.”
My fingers squeeze around the fork I’m holding as I sit with my friend on the patio of one of our favorite bistros for lunch. She’d called me yesterday to ask if I’d heard from Malcolm—I hadn’t—and asked me if I wanted to meet her for lunch today. With it being Friday, I don’t have that much on my schedule, so making a lunch date with my best friend was easy.
“What sparked the fight? Do you know?” I question, resting my arms against the edge of the teak table. I set the fork down as I’m suddenly not very hungry after she told me about the fight that went down at game night on Wednesday.
“Hank and the guys filled us in after Malcolm stormed off. They said he was acting really strange, agitated, hostile, almost. Like he wanted to get into it with someone. He was late—which never bodes well with Conrad—but after an hour or so, things started to get heated. He was asking if everyone could be quiet and then went after Conrad for, well being Conrad,” she scoffs and shakes her head in disbelief.
“You said he and Hank got physical?”
“Almost.” She pulls her lips into a tight line. “He said some pretty hurtful things, Ophie. If Magnolia and I hadn’t walked in I’m confident a fist or two would’ve been thrown.”
I cross my arms over my chest and lean back in my chair. Why was he acting like this? It had been a few weeks since I’d seen him but he seemed good when I did. This isn’t like him at all.
“Has he mentioned anything to you?” she asks from the other side of the table. Our food is sitting completely abandoned at this point as we’re too engrossed in our conversation.
“No, not really. We’ve texted but not in the last few days. I know he’s really busy with the bar and that’s been stressing him out. The last time I saw him he seemed fine. Better than he had been since Marshall’s passing.” I don’t add how strange I found his sudden one-eighty from exhausted and run down to perky and energized. He told me it was just because he needed a good night’s rest but I still found his sudden change in demeanor weird. And then when we were in Aspen, how he looked so exhausted again but I know for a fact he didn’t sleep more than a few hours each night. I worry my bottom lip between my teeth.
“Have the guys spoken since?” I look up and ask.
“They’ve tried calling him and Kolbi even went to the bar yesterday to check on him but he wasn’t there. He was out doing a pickup or something?” Her eyes grow concerned and she pauses for a moment before speaking again. “They’re really worried, Ophie.”
“No, no, I am too. I’ll text him and ask him to come over tonight. Maybe I can ask him about it and find out what happened.”
She gives me a weary nod and attempts to finish her lunch. I try to do the same but I know it’s a lost cause.
There isn’t any room for food in my stomach as the sinking feelings of worry and dread have already burrowed in and made themselves comfortable.
* * *
After getting back to the office, I text him and invite him to come over to spend the night at my place which he quickly accepts.
So he has his phone on him, he’s just ignoring his friends.
Perfect.
He told me he would come over as soon as he could once he was done at the bar and texted me half an hour ago that he was on his way. Not once have I been anything other than happy or excited to know he is coming over, but right now my stomach is threatening to eject itself through my throat while I wait for him to get here. My head shoots towards the front door when I hear his knock and I stand from the couch to go and let him in.
“Hey, princess,” he drags out his words and gives me a slick grin as he leans against the door frame, his arm above his head. “Aren’t you just the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen?”
When he leans in for a kiss, I give him what he wants before promptly turning away and walking into the living room. He follows behind me, taking a few steps inside and closing the door behind him before taking off his shoes and walking towards me.
“How was your day?” he questions, trying to loop his arms around my waist but I take a step away from him and cross my arms in front of me defensively.
“What the hell happened with your friends?” I demand, cutting right to the point.
His face morphs into a mixture of annoyance, anger, and disbelief. “Why the hell are you asking me about that?”
“Because I wanna know what’s going on with you. Bailey and I?—”
“ Bailey put you up to this?” he scoffs. “Well that’s no fucking surprise seeing as how she has Hank by the balls and thinks she controls our friend group.” He rolls his eyes and starts to pace. With him so close I can tell he’s sweating which I think is odd seeing as how the sun has been down for hours and the humidity hasn’t settled in yet. It’s warm already outside as it’s the middle of May, but not warm enough for him to be sweating this much unless he ran to my place.
“Malcolm, stop. What is going on with you? Why are you fighting with your friends? They’re like your brothers. I’ve never once heard of you guys fighting like what she described to me.”
His face changes again in an instant and instead of being annoyed and angry, he seems calm and controlled. His body language shifts so fast that if you weren’t looking you would have missed it. He takes a few steps closer to me and wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into an embrace.
“Hey, can we not talk about this right now?” he hums as he brings his lips to my neck. “I came here to be with you, not to talk about those assholes.” His hands are snaking their way around my body, caressing my curves as he attempts to get me to leave it alone.
“Those ‘assholes’ are your best friends, remember?” I remind him as he slips his hand down the waistband of the leggings I’m wearing. I want to give into the feeling he’s causing in me, but I also want to talk about what happened. “Malcolm, stop.”
“Why? I know you like it, I know you like when I make you feel good. Let me make you feel good, baby.” His hands continue to grab at me and his breath feels uncomfortably warm on my skin as he kisses my neck and any exposed flesh he can find.
“Malcolm, stop, wait. I want to talk to you about this.” My hands gently push against him so he looks at me and I watch him snap into an entire different person once more. His eyes are angry and full of a fire I’ve never seen before. His flared nostrils quiver as he scowls at me.
“Why are you ruining this? You’ve always been a little slut for me and suddenly you’re not interested? What the fuck, Ophelia?” he shouts, throwing his arms up and walking away towards my bedroom. I stomp across the living room to follow him.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I yell back as frustration and anger sink in.
“Me? What’s wrong with me?” His head whips around and for the first time, I’m afraid of the version of him that stands in front of me. His eyes are wild and bulging out of their sockets and his cheeks are bright red with anger. I try to hold my ground but I feel myself cower when he takes a step closer to me with fists clenched.
“Look at yourself. You’re acting crazy! You’re acting like you’re high or something!” I scream into his face, no longer holding back. When his face falls and he side-steps me, heading for the living room once more, everything clicks and I feel my heart nearly fall out of my chest.
“Wait.” I try to steady my breathing but I feel it starting to become panicked. The sudden change in attitude. The hyperfixation. The sudden angry outbursts. How he couldn’t sleep at night when it was clear that he could fall over at any moment. It all makes sense now. I turn and follow him into the other room. “Are you using again?”
He doesn’t look in my direction while he paces around the coffee table, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. He looks frustrated and deranged, but also broken. I take another step closer to him and dig my nails into the palm of my hand. Blowing out a hard breath, I ask him again.
“Malcolm, look at me.” He does and the emptiness that now fills his eyes nearly breaks me.
“Are you using again?” My voice cracks when I ask.
He stares at me blankly while I wait for an answer.
“I’m fucking out of here,” he scowls, pushing passed me where I’m blocking his way to the door. I try to grab his arm to hold him back but he yanks it away from me.
“Malcolm, please stay. Let’s just talk about this. I want to help you, please .” I’m begging him through watery eyes but he doesn’t seem to be listening. His shoes are on and he’s snatching the keys to his truck from the bowl I keep by the front door before I can do anything to stop him.
“Malcolm!”
The door slams behind him as he leaves and the force of it vibrates the floor beneath me. My shoulders shake as more sobs escape me as I wonder how I could have missed it. His addiction. His using. All the signs I could now see as I thought about the last few months and how he seemed to unravel right in front of me.
In front of all of us.
My fingers shake as I dial a number I know by heart.
He may have done a good job of hiding it from us before, but now that I’ve figured it out, I’m not going to let him sit in his darkness alone anymore. Now that I know how much he’s hurting, I’ll do anything I can to pull him out and help him see the light once more.