to accomplish something most exes didn’t have: friendship. He decided to keep Joey with him for a few more weeks. Eric and I had been through a lot, and he knew the drill with the meds. He knew I would be sleepy and weepy for at least two weeks. God bless him.
Phoebe and Eve brought me home. They acted like two mother hens. I had to admit I was glad they were here from me.
I will be okay.
My cute little house was perfectly clean thanks to Eve and Phoebe. I had missed my home.
I will be okay.
Phoebe and Eve stayed with me overnight, and yesterday Eric, Tara, and Joey stopped by to bring me a casserole.
I will be okay. Maybe if I keep telling myself that, I will believe it.
Joey ran into my arms and even though it killed my ribs, I didn’t give a shit. I hugged him back as hard as I could.
“Have I told you I loved you today?” I asked him.
“Nope.”
“Joey, I love you.”
“Mama, I love you, too, and I really missed you.”
I started crying. How could I not? We all sat together—my makeshift family—and it felt off. Not because of Tara, because I liked her; she’d brought me a casserole after all. How could I not like someone who cooked for me? More importantly, she was super sweet to my kid but not too sweet to threaten my relationship with Joey.
I missed Roman. I had been with Roman for six weeks straight for twenty-four hours a day. That was like six months of dating. I felt as though a part of me was missing, but I had pushed it to the back of my mind during the last few days.
Today, he was right in the forefront. I was so glad to be alone. Because all I wanted to do was cry. Cry because of the rapes. Cry for being away from Joey. I even cried a bit for my lost marriage, but I mainly cried that Roman was gone.
What the fuck was I thinking when I broke off our relationship? I knew what. Deep down, I knew I was a commodity to him. Of course he thought he was in love with me. He never had to spend as much time with a woman as long as he’d stayed with me. He didn’t really have a choice; under normal circumstances, he would have never spent any time with me. After a week or two, he would have been bored with me. Roman would have left me crippled with pain, kind of like I was now.
So I cried. I even put on my “Cry” playlist. I had many, many sad songs to listen to while I bawled like a newborn baby. I was even listening to a song titled “Cry.” Who says I wasn’t consistent? I wondered if anybody else had a playlist like that? I even had a “Joe” playlist—all the songs that reminded me of the death of my brother. I was one seriously fucked-up individual.
So, I laid there and cried all day. I woke up…cried…slept. The idea that bothered me the most: I bet Roman wasn’t at home crying because he was probably partying it up with groupies and getting ready to start a concert. Who was the dumbass bitch who told him to go back and screw groupies?
Huh, you are, that’s who!
I screamed.
I cried.
And then I slept.
Chapter 5 – Roman
“Mate, are you crying again?” Jensen asked me.
I should have taken his guitar and beaten him to death with it.
“Fuck you!”
I took another swig of Jack Daniels. I was sitting on the floor. Funny how my back didn’t hurt anymore. I thought it was mostly in my head. Subconsciously, I had wanted the drugs. Maybe I should start taking them again. At least I could have the illusion of being happy. Beth wouldn’t be here to yell at me.
“Did you see this rag?” Jensen dropped a magazine in my lap.
There was a picture of Beth and me on the cover. The title read: Rock Star and Fan Kidnapped in Nashville.
“Huh…” I stared. It was the picture they’d taken of us right before we were kidnapped. Beth looked so happy. The moment the picture was taken I had never even noticed her. Even though I had my arm around her as though we were a couple. Tears fell down my face. I wiped them off before Jenson could make a smart ass remark. She looked so pretty and I’d never even noticed her. I