2. Back To Black #4
“What?” someone says. I don’t know—my head is spinning.
“Please tell me she’s kidding.”
“I don’t fucking know.”
“Just pillow talk,” I blurt out. “I mean, I would’ve, you know…if he wanted to. That’s how much he got in here.” My eyes stay closed as I tap my heart.
“Elena.”
I shrug. “Never mind. He doesn’t want babies with me. He wants beautiful blonde babies with her. She’s tall and so pretty. I’d have hobbit babies.”
“Oh God. Maybe tonight was a bad idea, Pip. Maybe it was too soon.”
Someone shifts beside me.
“Sir, I’m willing to offer you five thousand dollars for your discretion—if you sign a non-disclosure agreement.”
Ugh. The thought makes me sick. Non-disclosure agreements.
“Please don’t do that,” I groan.
“Shut up. Dad will be displeased if you’re caught in another scandal—wasted and sobbing over Alex. The media would have a frenzy.”
Daddy displeased with me? Old news.
“Fuck him,” I spit.
Someone’s arms wrap around me, patting me on the head. “Shh, babe.”
Riley.
My sunshine.
“I’ll sign. I don’t want the money. I wouldn’t have said anything,” says a deep voice. He sounds kind.
“I appreciate that, but I prefer the guarantee,” Philippa replies.
The cab eventually comes to a stop, and I’m folded into the apartment. Riley and Philippa undress me, cursing at the number of laces on my vomit-laden shoes. Riley half-carries me to the bathroom—right before I throw up in the tub and all over myself.
Without hesitation, she helps me into the shower. She turns the water on, soaking us both—her still fully clothed.
I slur a string of apologies, crying over Alex.
By the time they guide me to bed, I collapse face-first into the sheets. The fading scent of Alex lingers there, soothing and cruel. I plead with him not to leave me.
The nights are the worst.
I don’t want to be alone anymore.
Philippa and Riley reassure me they’ll be back. Eventually, the darkness of sleep pulls me under.
I dream of blond men and hands, and I jolt awake. The room is pitch-black.
I feel someone to my right—Philippa—and someone else to my left—Riley.
They came back. They stayed.
I snuggle into Riley and drift off again—the two halves of my world holding me steady.
When morning comes, we wake slow and a little hungover.
“God, I haven’t had a night like that in ages,” Philippa says, her voice a raspy whisper.
“Oh my God, why are you yelling?” I croak.
Riley grunts. She is not a morning person.
I gingerly roll over her—the bathroom awaits.
Once I’m done throwing up and peeing, I head back to my room. Riley and Philippa are nowhere to be found.
“Guys?” I call out.
I follow the sound of their voices to the kitchen and stop short.
“I can’t believe he did that to her—that fucker,” Riley says. “I want to slam the smug off that perfectly symmetrical face for doing that to her.”
“Cooper or Alex?” Philippa asks.
“Alex, duh. I would’ve been happy for her to blow off some steam with Coop, but I think last night was too much for her. Too soon. We should’ve taken Kylie’s advice—in and out, no fuss.”
“Hey, don’t blame yourself. You just wanted to help get her mind off him. You bring so much joy to her life—she needs it. She’s lucky to have you.”
“Aww, Pip, thank you.”
“Truly, Riley. You’re a good friend—loyal, trustworthy.”
“Appreciate it, but I don’t swing that way.”
“Oh my God, take a fucking compliment.”
“All right, but seriously, who are you? I’ve never heard you swear so much.”
“Maybe because this is the longest time we’ve ever been around each other,” Philippa says pointedly, and I hear the grinding of the coffee machine. The smell of the beans makes my mouth water.
And I realize she’s right—this is the longest time my sister and I have spent together since our parents’ divorce tore us apart. A month at most, usually.
Was this a sign that we were finally dropping the pretense? Finally finding the comfort and familiarity that comes from growing up together?
I mean, she did see me butt-naked and puking all over myself last night—so I’d like to think we’re bonding in some weird way.
I clear my throat and round the corner.
“Morning.”
“Coffee?” Philippa asks, her perkiness plastered on like someone covering up the fact you were the topic of conversation.
“Absolutely. Straight into my veins, please.”
“What happened to you? You got blackout drunk?” Riley asks.
I hang my head in shame. “I kept sneaking to the bar to do shots.”
“That explains it,” Philippa says, sliding a plate of buttered toast toward me. “Eat this before you have the coffee so you don’t shit yourself.”
Riley barks out a laugh.
Yep, definitely getting more comfortable with one another.
I chuckle, shaking my head as I take a bite of toast.
It’s heavenly.
“Did Cooper do something to upset you? One minute you two were vibing, the next you stormed off,” Philippa asks.
“No,” I sigh, taking another bite. “He wanted to sleep with me. Even offered an NDA to seal the deal.”
Riley’s jaw drops mid-bite.
“And you weren’t interested?” Philippa asks brow raised.
“Of course not. The whole NDA thing felt…icky.”
“Well,” Philippa says, thoughtful, “for someone in your position, I imagine it’s standard practice.”
“Yeah, maybe. Still gross.”
Riley shrugs, spearing some eggs onto her fork. “I admire your self-restraint, babe. I would’ve broken that shiny Ken doll in real good.”
Philippa laughs. “Agreed. I had a crush on him in college, but I don’t think he was ever interested.”
Riley gasps theatrically, “This is a first for us, Pip! Secret sex deviant? I knew it—it’s always the quiet ones.”
“Hey,” Philippa protests. “I might be a little uptight, but I had my fun before Andrew.”
“Bet Andrew likes that you’re tight,” Riley quips with a smirk.
“Why do I tell you anything?” Philippa shakes her head, though there’s no bite in it.
Riley sticks her tongue out. “Elena doesn’t do casual.”
Philippa glances at me. “I’m assuming you and Alex sealed the deal?”
I shrug.
“I’m sorry he did that to you, Elena,” she says softly. “Some men are fucking assholes.”
“The good-looking ones always are,” Riley adds, tossing her hair into a messy bun.
“You’re just saying that because you don’t like him.”
“Well, you’re not wrong—on both counts,” Philippa says.
“Can I ask you something?” I murmur.
Philippa arches a brow.
“When I asked to bring Alex to the Hamptons…why did you agree?”
Her face softens. “Because you’re my sister, Elena. And I’ll never stand in the way of your happiness. Plus—at that point, I hadn’t seen you with him. I was curious.”
“And?”
“I think he cared about you,” she says gently. “But I also think he likes the attention that comes with being who he is. I didn’t like the way he flirted with my friends while holding your hand.”
A small ache tugs at my chest. I remember how awful that felt—though I imagine he’d felt the same calling me out for the times my gaze wandered toward Broderick from across the room. Neither of us were innocent, just two desperate people chasing validation. But she doesn’t need to know that.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “For being here. Through all of this.”
Riley squeezes my hand. Philippa brushes a strand of hair from my face.
We finish breakfast, and eventually Philippa slips out for a menu tasting with Andrew. Riley leaves soon after, off to her studio—newly struck by inspiration.
Alone again, I stand in my doorway for a long moment, staring at my unmade bed. Then I pull the sheets free—the ones that no longer smell like Alex—and toss them into the wash.
The first step toward moving forward.
I think.