Chapter 34
Aria
She’s too quiet.
Since Mama Betty’s funeral, Lucy hasn’t spoken more than a word at a time. She barely lifts her head when I address her. She eats next to nothing, hasn’t showered in a week, and spends the majority of the day in bed.
Grief is a tricky creature, I know that. But, it hurts to watch her drowning while begging her to let me keep her afloat.
For now, Cierra has Karma covered. I learned that she is a manager and can mostly keep things running without Lucy’s input, which is one burden I am thankful I don’t have to try and bear. Mama Betty had hired an estate lawyer, so everything on the legal side of things has been handled as well.
However—I glance from my station by the stove towards the bedroom door—I have no idea what to do about Lucy. I am hesitant to call her therapist, though I found her name and number last week. I don’t want Lucy to be forced into anything. She’s not a danger to herself…yet.
Still, I can’t help but feel nervous about going to meet with Deja while she’s like this.
“Lucy,” I call out, cracking open the bedroom door, “I am heading out to meet Deja.” Her curled up form doesn’t move. “I shouldn’t be more than a few hours.” No response. “Cierra and Jeremy are right downstairs if you need anything.” Silence.
My eyes fill with tears as I whisper, “I love you, Princess,” and slowly close the bedroom door.
***
“Look, Aria, I wish I had better news for you,” Deja says, her twisted braids falling over her shoulder as she tilts her head towards me.
“I have a few contacts in the DA’s office, the local PD, and one in the FBI.
All of them say the same thing: there is not enough here to convict him, especially since Massachusetts is one of two states that does not currently have any ‘revenge porn’ laws on the books. ”
My heart sinks as I take in her words. “Okay, what about the civil suit? For the false accusations leading to loss of employment…?”
“The evidence you provided me with from Aisling only leads back to Jacob’s computer.
The rest is speculative and circumstantial.
I think we have a good chance of winning the civil suit, including the pictures as a form of harassment, but the criminal charges aren’t going to go anywhere according to my research.
I sigh heavily, my shoulders drooping. “I still want to sue him for damages and harassment, but damn.” She nods sympathetically, then pauses, cocking her head to take in my appearance.
“Aria…I would consider us friends.” I smile tiredly up at her. “So, in that vein, I have to tell you, you look like shit, girl. What the hell happened?”
I let the last of my facade drop and run a hand through my hair. “It’s a long story…I don’t think I have the budget for that long of a consult,” I tease, though I know my tone falls flat.
“Coincidentally,” she says, standing smoothly from her desk and gestures for me to do the same, “I was about to take my lunch hour and there is a wonderful bistro right down the street. Join me?”
I chuckle to myself and rise to join her.
***
After I finish laying out the details of the last few months, Deja sits back in her chair, eyes wide.
“Well, holy fuck. I am so sorry, Aria. That’s…
” She searches for the right word to encapsulate the clusterfucked rollercoaster that is my life over the last six months, but comes up empty. I can’t blame her.
“Yeah,” I say simply, sipping on the coffee I ordered. It’s not as good as Karma’s, and I probably shouldn’t add caffeine to my everything else, but it’s what I have.
“So, to recap, Jacob cheated on you with Lucy, you both dumped his ass, you moved into her apartment, started dating, took care of her mother through end-of-life care, and now are dealing with the aftermath?” She counts each point off on her fingers, concisely summarizing the entirety of our relationship and I let out a genuine laugh at how absolutely insane it sounds.
“Add on top of that writing a book and figuring out I’m a lesbian,” I add cheekily, glad to be able to share all of this with somebody. It has been a long time since Deja and I have hung out outside of a professional context, so I feel myself soak in the connection with relief.
“Yeah, let’s just add that in like a cute little cherry on top,” she adds, rolling her eyes. When I wait a beat too long to laugh, she focuses back on my face and I can feel the heat color my cheeks. “What?” she asks suspiciously.
“It’s just, uh,” I stammer, feeling the blush deepen, “‘Cherry’ is what Lucy calls me, just caught me off guard.” I sink further into my chair, holding the coffee to my lips like a buffer between us.
“That is adorable,” she coos, causing me to sink further down. “But now you’ve got me curious, what’s your name for Lucy, I wonder?”
“Princess,” I mumble to another round of good-natured teasing. Despite it being at my expense, my heart feels lighter and I cannot bring myself to regret coming out to meet with her, no matter what does or doesn’t happen with Jacob.
***
I walk back into the apartment to find it exactly as I left it: silent and cold.
I look at the breakfast I made for Lucy, still untouched. I walk back towards the bedroom door.
I’m not losing her too.
I open the bedroom door. Not violently, but without the carefulness I have assumed since Mama Betty’s death. I walk to the small lamp positioned on my end table and flick it on, casting the room in a gentle, warm light before sitting lightly on the bed.
The lump on the bed I know to be Lucy finally stirs.
“Turn it off,” she mumbles, her words slightly slurred as she attempts to pull the blankets back over her head. I catch the edge gently and keep it in place.
“Have you eaten anything today?” I keep my voice soft and free from accusation.
“Not hungry.”
“Well, your body still needs fuel,” I start trying to reason with her, but she cuts me off.
“I said I’m not hungry.” Her tone is hard, but it’s more energy than I have seen from her since Mama Betty’s funeral two weeks ago, so I keep pushing.
“I heard you. But I also know you didn’t eat lunch or dinner yesterday, and only had a handful of dry granola before that. You have to take care of yourself—”
“Just mind your own business!” she yells out suddenly, like a bubble bursting, as she sits up in bed. “Goddess above, just stop fucking nagging me. I am fine. See? Still breathing. Still alive.” Her voice catches on the last word.
“For now,” I answer, unable to help myself.
“And what is that supposed to mean?” The venom practically drips from her tone. I stand up and pace toward the far wall before turning back to her.
“Exactly what I said, Lucy. You are alive. You are breathing. But if you don’t eat, if you don’t take care of yourself, or at least let me take care of you, how long will that be true?”
“You’re being ridiculous,” she huffs, turning her back to me.
“Am I?” The heat begins to rise in my voice. “You’ve barely moved from that spot in days, Lucy. You haven’t even eaten enough to fuel a child, haven’t bathed in a week, and when was the last time you changed your clothes?”
“What is your point?” She stands, almost in defiance of my words, so that we are standing face to face, the bed squarely between us.
“My point is that you are grieving. And god knows that makes sense. But I’m grieving too! Not in the same way, not at the same level, but I love her too. And I miss her. And it’s killing me that she’s gone.”
“And I just lost a mother for the second time in my life! If you don’t want to let me deal with that, then just leave, Aria. Leave.” I see tears beginning to fill her eyes even as her temper continues to flare.
“There is no fucking way I am leaving you. Not now. Not ever. But I can’t lose you too.” Her eyes widen at the intensity of emotion in my voice and that is the last thing I see as my vision tunnels and I feel my body collapse.
Well, shit, is my last thought before my vision goes dark.