the studio. To his bed. That was where my confused brain associated with home.
I closed my eyes tight. My phone was already blowing up with texts. They missed me too and promised to find out. One more show. One day at a time. I could do this.
I gripped the pill in my hand. I studied it for a long moment. It would be so easy to go back to being checked out. All I would have to do is swallow and live this life.
But no. I’d felt alive again. I had found joy in my playing without the help of drugs. I didn’t need a man to have that power over me. I didn’t need anybody to have that power over me. I was done letting others live my life. I would do this last show tonight and then I’d go home. From now on, I decided what I wanted.
I dropped the pill into the toilet and flushed.
In the car ride back from the show I shook with anxious rage.
Fucking Klonopin. Pardon my swearing. But was he clucking kidding me?
I knew the power of prescription drugs. They saved a lot of people’s lives when prescribed correctly and controlled by professionals. They weren’t candies to be thrown around at the first sign of stress. What he did was selfish and dangerous.
“Can cause paranoid or suicidal ideation and impair memory, judgment, and coordination. Combining with other substances, particularly alcohol, can slow breathing and possibly lead to death,” Blithe’s text read.
Suzie followed up with, “Often used to treat panic attacks and numb the brain.”
“Highly habit forming,” Gretchen added. And then right after “Read: STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM.”
These lovely women had responded within minutes of me sending that first text. I’ve said it before and I would say it again: they could easily rule the world. Their messages waited on my phone after my performance. I sent a very short text back letting them know I hadn’t taken it and that I was fine. Because apparently sending that text and then disappearing for a few hours was on the “not cool” list of things to do to your girlfriends.
I had performed like the subservient little cellist I was. What was I even doing? Was this living? Because, I had to say, it didn’t feel like it. I’d been such an idiot. Letting myself see what I wanted to see rather than face something that felt too big. Devlin had made me feel so much that I’d become overwhelmed by the possibilities. I was so afraid of making the wrong choice. Well, here I was quickly understanding I had made the absolute worst choice.
We drove in silence. At least, I was silent. Roddy jabbered on about likes and reposts and all the interest in a fall tour. My head was back against the seat. It would have been bad enough if he’d offered the pill to anyone, but he knew I’d been to rehab. The nagging suspicion I’d carried the last few weeks fully formed in my mind.
I narrowed my gaze toward him and spoke over whatever he was saying. “What did the note you sent me in rehab say?”
He stilled. “Let’s not talk about that. It was a dark time in your past. You don’t like talking about it.” His words sounded like a mantra. Like if he repeated them to me enough, I’d believe them.
“Actually, I don’t mind talking about it,” I said. “It helps me move past it. Tell me what the note said.”
“I’ve asked you not to bring up those notes. It embarrasses me.”
How had I never seen through his facade? I was a willfully blind participant in the hostile takeover of my life. The truth burned through the fog of my mind, shining light on everything.
“It was only three words. Of course you can remember,” I kept my voice light.
“I can’t remember. That was a hundred years ago. Let’s not discuss such an awful time.” His complexion grew ruddy.
“No. It wasn’t awful. It made me the person I am. I’m tired of pretending it never happened.”
“You’re all worked up. When we get back to the hotel, we’ll go to the bar and have a drink.” He loosened his tie to undo the top two buttons.
“Tell me what it said.” I knew I sounded crazy, persistent, mad. I couldn’t care less.
“That was over ten years ago. I can’t remember.”
“Three words?” I persisted.
He grabbed my hand, while the other held the steering wheel. He smiled at me in the most charming