In the Stillness - By Andrea Randall Page 0,74

your life. He didn’t want our little dairy case run-in to screw up any healing you’d done, so he didn’t tell you.” Ryker’s hand wraps around my wrist as I reach for the Advil.

“Crackers first. Trust me.” He grabs my other hand and takes a careful breath, commanding my attention. “Natalie, you didn’t ruin my life. Stop saying that. Why would you even think that?”

It occurs to me that I actually have no idea if some of the things I’ve been thinking over the last few years are true. I use my drunkenness as a shield and forge ahead.

“Well, did you ever reenlist in the National Guard?”

His eyes close for an extra-long blink as he exhales. “No. I couldn’t.”

“And,” I pull my hand away and continue, “why not?” His brief hesitation allows me to finish, “Because I pressed charges, got a restraining order, and screwed up your record.” With that declaration out of the way, I tear open the box of crackers.

“Nat . . . it’s so much more complicated than that. Ugh. We’ll talk in the morning, okay? When you’re sober.” He opens the Advil bottle, places two pills on the bedside table, and puts the cap back on. “Take these and try to get some sleep. Do you think you’re going to throw up anymore?”

“No.”

“K,” he stands and takes the rest of the Advil with him, “night.”

“Night.”

As if I’m going to be able to sleep now.

Chapter 30

My fingers glide along the metal railing of the stairwell in my Mt. Holyoke dorm.

What the hell am I doing here?

Just ahead I spot Ryker, carrying someone. My chest clenches as I realize it’s me; my right arm dangling limp as he clutches me to his chest.

“Help her! Please, someone help her!” Ryker’s voice is hoarse and sounds weak, like he’s crying.

Following quietly as though I’m going to disturb the scene, I watch as we come upon ambulances and fire trucks through the door.

Right, the fire alarm.

“Sir, what happened?” A fire lieutenant runs alongside Ryker as he races toward the nearest ambulance.

“Help her! Help her, I can’t tell if she’s breathing!” He probably would have known what to do if he wasn’t so strung out on Oxycontin.

In a flash I see myself on a gurney and locked behind the ambulance doors while Ryker bangs his fists on them, begging to be let in. Another flash and I’m inside the ambulance with my body, banging my fists banging on the door, staring into his dilated pupils as the police approach him from behind.

My screams come out as a whisper. “Let me out! He didn’t do anything! Stop driving, Stop!”

No one listens, and I’m forced to watch Ryker be wrestled to the ground by police as I’m driven further and further away from everything I’d held as true up until that moment.

Then, my eyes open.

Sitting up, I’m relieved that I don’t feel nearly as shitty as I should. Unfortunately, I remember every single detail of my self-medication project from yesterday. The low grumble of a lawnmower turns my attention out the window, where I find Ryker on a riding mower wearing faded jeans, a t-shirt, and a tattered baseball cap. I can tell from up here that it’s his old Red Sox hat.

I can’t believe I slept until nine-thirty. Walking down the stairs, I scroll through my phone and find only one missed call. From Tosha. I call her back as I wander into the kitchen, relieved at the smell of freshly-brewed coffee.

“Hey skank, how are things?” I laugh at her greeting.

“Interesting . . .” I chuckle, opening a few cupboards until I find the one with the coffee mugs.

“What’s going on?”

With a deep breath and an eye-roll I tell Tosha about Eric coming to her apartment yesterday, and the events leading up to where I’m currently standing.

“Natalie. For fuck’s sake, I leave you alone for a day and this is where you find yourself?” Her voice turns serious. “Are you okay?”

Placing the pot back on the coffeemaker, I turn around and jump a little when I see Ryker in the doorway, looking as confused as he has over the last twenty-four hours. On auto-pilot, I turn and reach for another mug, pouring him a cup as I continue with Tosha on the phone.

“I’m fine, Tosh. Just having some coffee right now, then . . . who knows anymore.” I walk to the fridge and take out the cream, setting it next to Ryker’s mug.

“He’s in the room now, isn’t he?”

“You betcha.” I smile.

“Are

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