wanted to do was give up and give in to the heartbreak that engulfed me. All our differences aside, the man had been there for me whenever I needed him, and now he needed me, so I had to get my shit together and be strong enough for him to lean on.
Blindly and clumsily, I reached for the tattooed hand that was nervously tapping on the muscled leg bouncing up and down next to mine.
Never in a million years would I ever think I’d be holding Salinger Dolan’s hand when I was scared out of my mind and on the edge of a breakdown. I told myself it was okay this one time because he was the only one close by. However, almost immediately, his warmth sank into my hand, and slowly I started to get some feeling back into my frozen limbs.
I wasn’t so sure just any nearby hand would have the same effect on me.
“He has to be okay.” I whispered the words because I needed to hear them. No other option was acceptable.
“He will be. Didn’t you used to tell me not to borrow trouble? The same is true for you. No negative thoughts until you have more information. You’re stubborn enough to will him into better health, so don’t back down from that special personality trait right now when he needs you the most.”
I nodded slowly and squeezed his hand so hard I knew it had to hurt. I couldn’t stop myself, though. I felt like every piece of me would shatter and fly away if I let go of the warm hand that was anchoring me to a small sliver of hope.
Salinger didn’t complain. He simply sat next to me as I crushed his hand in mine, occasionally tapping out a message on his phone as the taxi driver tried to make small talk. It was obvious the older man didn’t recognize either one of us, which was a small relief in the melee of emotions that were colliding inside my chest at the moment.
I knew he looked older and more mature than the young man I’d held a grudge against for longer than was healthy, but I’d always doubted his personality changed much.
But maybe I was wrong.
At the moment, he seemed far more considerate and composed than I ever would’ve anticipated.
I started to wonder if he really had changed, and if his promise that he was a different man was more than empty words.
It shouldn’t be possible that the kid who took everything from me would grow up to be the man who helped me hold it together when I was on the verge of losing one of the few things that actually mattered to me.
But here he was.
Salinger
I HATED HOSPITALS.
I hated the smell and the sounds.
I hated the somber faces of the medical staff and the nervous energy of the patients.
I hated the helplessness emanating off the friends and family members who were desperately waiting for news.
I’d landed in the hospital on more than one occasion when I hit rock bottom. I’d nearly died, more than once, which should’ve been the worst part of the situation. But the worst part was the helplessness. I was unable to protect myself and my privacy while I was falling apart, both physically and mentally. The first time I overdosed and ended up in the ER, it didn’t even take an hour for the press to leak pictures of me unconscious, covered in puke, looking like I was very much on the brink of death. It wasn’t only addiction that had its hook deep in me; it was also public opinion. The fall from grace was quick and merciless, and I wasn’t allowed a single moment of privacy while I tried to find my footing.
The probing into every single aspect of my private life was one of the reasons I kept relapsing. The same public that cheered for all my success and achievements turned on me so fast and celebrated my failure with twice the amount of enthusiasm. My downfall made for a better story than my rise to fame and fortune ever had. It started to become a habit. I was always seeking out a way to shut out everyone and everything that was taking pleasure in the fact I was slowly killing myself with dangerous choices and my total lack of self-control. Drugs worked better than anything else when I wanted to be numb and unaffected. There were a lot of questionable hands reaching out