Chapter 58
“Wonder
if anyone’s missed me in cyber land.” She flipped her monitor on and waited for
her browser and email to load. Ciara finally had a day
off and decided to take advantage of it. Nick was still in
She
quickly filed through her email deleting the retarded forwards from her mother
and sisters, saving the dirty jokes from AJ and Deanna and laughing her ass off
at the porn spam. How the hell she ended up with it, she never knew, but it was
always worth a good laugh.
Making
her way to the message boards she’d frequented for years, she found an
interesting thread. And a long one. Reluctantly, she opened it up. “Nick
partying in NYC!” Ignoring the few words in the first post, she clicked the
link to the accompanying picture. As it downloaded onto her screen, her heart
fell to her knees. Her stomach rose to her throat. Yep, it was Nick. Partying
alright. This alone wouldn’t normally be a surprise to her. She wasn’t stupid
enough to think he was a saint when she wasn’t around. Hell, he wasn’t one when
she was. They’d had their fair share of drinking binges together. Plus, she’d
seen plenty of pictures of him when AJ was in rehab and worried even then about
the frequency and intensity of it, but she also knew he was petrified at what
might happen to them. No biggie.
This
one though…his eyes. They looked…he was definitely not just drunk. He also had
a two-bit floozy hanging off of him, but somehow she suddenly became
invisible…silicon and all. His eyes. His flushed cheeks. The dazed expression.
The fact that he had a water bottle and not alcohol in his hand. It added up to
absolutely no good. She checked the body of the initial post again and sure
enough the picture was taken just a few days prior.
As
she skimmed through the rest of the thread, she clicked other links to other
nights in
******~~~~~~******~~~~~~
“Mmmmm…I
missed you baby.” Nick wrapped his arms around Ciara
thankful to be home. He’d been ridiculous in his anger at her and even more-so
in leaving so hastily. He knew it now, especially as he felt the warmth of her
arms around him. What an idiot.
“I
missed you, too.” She pulled away from the hug, briefly looking in his eyes,
thankful that the normal blue shine was there. Damned well better be.
Pulling
him all the way inside, she stood by the couch holding his hand, not looking at
him, showing little emotion. The only movement was her thumb rubbing softly
along his knuckles. Nick tossed his bag on the couch, not sure what was going
on, definitely feeling a negative vibe from her. She obviously had something on
her mind, but wasn’t…god, this was so uncharacteristic of her. What the hell?
“Can I at least have a kiss, Ci?”
Rarely
was her anger quiet, but this time, quiet was how it hit. It scared even her.
Problem was, he looked pathetic and his lips were always an invitation to
distraction. So, without much emotion, she reached up on her tiptoes, still
unable to look at him and softly kissed him. Then she started to walk away.
“Ci…please. Talk to me. I’m…I’m sorry I left the way I did.
I…I was being an ass.”
She
stopped in her tracks, turning to him and silently nodded. She didn’t know what
to say. How to get this little conversation started. As she finally looked in
his eyes, she was in shock with this overwhelming feeling that she was, for the
first time, looking at a stranger. It hurt. Deeply.
“Where
are you, Ci? Baby…” Now he was getting downright
scared. What was…this was maddening.
She
silently pulled on his hand, and led him back to the office, flipping the
monitor on. She continued her silence as she sat down, watching the screen
slowly fade from black to a picture in a Yahoo photo album. The picture she’d
seen a few days ago. She continued her silence and clicked “next” on the page
showing another picture of another night of another party and another female
hanging off of him. Next. Next. Next. Next. Six. He’d been gone 9 days and
there were photos of him “partying” six of those nights. God knew if he’d
partied any other nights without a damned photography crew present.
By
picture two, Nick had fallen pale. He pulled up a chair and sat next to her
looking at his “reflection” in the monitor. He looked like shit in every one of
them and he knew full well why. He also knew right where she was going with
this. Never had he wanted to run out of a room so badly…yet he knew he had
better stay. Whatever she was going to say was going to be dead on and somehow,
deep inside, he knew he needed to hear it.
Without
looking away from the monitor, Ciara finally started
to talk. She closed the link to the photo album and just stared at the screen.
“You know, the women? They don’t bother me. We’ve never professed exclusivity.
I have been and I felt like you had been. If you haven’t that’s both of our
faults for not being honest with each other earlier.”
Somehow
Nick found his voice, although it was weak and raspy like he’d just been kicked
in the gut. Hadn’t he? “No one else, Ci. I promise.
No one else. They were just girls at the clubs who wanted in a picture.”
Keeping
her eyes in the monitor she simply nodded. For some reason, she believed him,
although she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why. Besides, it truly was
not the issue. “Tell me, Nick. What do I do for a living?”
“You’re
a nurse, Ci…what kind of…”
“Yes,
I’m a nurse. A medical professional.” She finally turned away from the monitor
and looked toward him, but not at him. Anger flying out of her eyes. “Do you
remember where I worked after my divorce…when I got back from
“Um…you
did ER stuff, right?” What the hell…
“Yes,
Nick, I did. Saw all kinds of things in there. Learned more than any medical
book could teach.” She got up and walked around his chair, still not looking at
him. She couldn’t bear it because, as always, one look in his eyes, which were
most likely quite pitiful at the moment and she’d be gone. She’d cave. She’d
let him get away with it. And she lov-….yes, she
loved him too much to do that. “I need you to join me in the kitchen.”
She
started down the hall stopping only when she realized he wasn’t directly behind
her. Looking back, she saw a man defeated. His hands were fiddling with one
another in his lap and his gaze was at the wall. The bare wall.
“Nick,
please don’t make this more difficult than it already is. Come here.”
He
didn’t move, but to turn his gaze to her. “Am I gonna lose you, Ci?”
“I’m
here, Nick. But you have some decisions to make. Please…” She held her hand out
to him from the hall and he finally stood and joined her. Before going to the
kitchen he pulled her in and buried his head in her neck. He said nothing.
There was nothing to say. But she did welcome him. She needed to feel him,
needed to hold him, needed to be reminded, at least in part, why she wasn’t
throwing him out of her house. This was worth working for. And now…pulling
away, it was time for work.
This
time he followed her and she motioned to her counter. “Hop up.”
“Huh?”
“Hop
up there…I need you up on the counter.”
“Okayyy…” He did as asked hiking himself up onto the counter
by her stove. A woman of mystery. He used to like that about her. Now he wasn’t
so sure.
“Open
that cabinet right there, huh?” She was pretending to be busy. Putting dishes
from the dishwasher away, just generally distracting herself. Oddly enough, he
figured the cabinet held glasses or something. It was the smallest one in the
kitchen, like the one his mom used for baking goods, salt, spices and things.
Opening it up, he gasped at what was inside.
“Oh
God, Cici…” A three shelved cabinet. Top shelf had
typical top shelf stuff, especially for a short person. Odd shaped dishes,
extra matches…that sort of thing. But the first and second shelf. How in the
world could he have been here so many times and have no idea? How could he have
traveled with her and never noticed? What in the hell were all of these for?
Bottles
and bottles of medications. Huge, almost industrial sized bottles, smaller
normal sized bottles. White, transparent brown, child proofed, non-child
proofed. A few over-the-counter, but a good 90% of them were prescription. Sure
he’d seen her take meds before. Typically walked in on her tossing her head
back with a few pills in her mouth, followed by a glass of fruit juice. He’d
seen her take medication for over 10 years. But this? This many?
“Go
ahead, Nick. Take one out. Read the label.”
He
pulled a smaller bottle from the front bottom shelf and read the label. “Mes…Mestinon?”
“Yep.
Know what it’s for?” She stopped busying herself and looked up to him knowing
his answer.
“Nope.”
“Myasthenia.
My muscle weakness.” Back to work.
“Oh…your
power pills for when your arms don’t wanna work right.”
“Yep.
Take it every day…get another one.”
He
pulled down another bottle and read it. “Demerol. That’s a painkiller, isn’t
it?”
“Yep.
And a narcotic, but I take it daily. Get another.” He put the two bottles down
and grabbed a third. “No…keep those in your hand. I’ll help when you need it.”
She finally stopped her activity and stood by him, leaning in to see what
bottle he’d grabbed each time.
He
had no idea what the hell she was up to, but somehow knew he’d better just
comply. He reached up and grabbed another bottle, reading the label. She’d
report what it was for and how often she took it. Another bottle, and another
and another. After a few more small ones, his hand was full and she started
pulling them off the shelf, holding for him to read and putting them in his
cupped hands. As his hands filled, her pace increased. He tried to set them
down on the counter to hold new ones but she’d stop him, until eventually
bottles were falling out of his arms and onto the floor. She didn’t stop. She
pulled bottle after bottle after bottle off the shelf, and by the time the
cabinet was empty, her pace had become downright frantic. He wasn’t even reading
anymore, she was just spouting off how often she took that pill and what it was
supposed to be for. All he could do was follow her movement with his eyes
wanting to stop her, knowing he couldn’t. She was almost manic.
“Is
that it? Are they all out?”
“Jesus,
Ci…yeah. What the hell…these are everywhere…” He
looked down to the kitchen floor at the bottles he’d dropped as they rolled on
the floor, close to her feet where she could slip on them.
She
finally looked down too. Yep. Everywhere. Oh well. “Why do I take all those
meds, Nick?”
Closing
his eyes, unable to bear the glare in her eyes, he whispered, “Because you’re
sick.”
She
touched his cheek, making him open his eyes and look at her. “Yes, Nick. I’m
sick. Did you catch how many different things these were all for?”
“I…God,
Ci…I lost track.” He couldn’t look at her either. His
eyes were fixated on the mound of bottles cradled in his arms. So damned many.
“How
about how many of them were for pain or something relating to my Lupus or
Myasthenia…or better yet some disease I’ve never even discussed with you
because all they can do is treat my symptoms, huh? How many, Nick?”
“I
don’t know, Ci.” He was losing grip on the bottles in
his arms and more tumbled to the floor, only for her to ignore them. “Can I
please put these..”
“No.
Not yet. Why do I take all of these, Nick? Why?”
“I
just said…”
“Yes,
I’m sick…but do they make me well?”
Stop
looking at me like that! “Well, no, not really.”
“No,
you’re right. Do the pain pills take away the pain, Nick?”
“No.”
“I
take all this shit every day of my life. Not every pill every day, but every
day I take a handful of pills. Not because I want to but because I HAVE to. And
you know what? I still go to bed in pain every night. I still wake up in pain
every goddamned morning. I still ache after we’ve made love.”
That
finally made his eyes shoot up into hers. “After we…but, Ci…you’ve
never…”
“Nope.
Not worth it. You are though, Nick. I ache when I’ve sat on the couch watching
TV for too long, or been on my feet too long at work. I still hurt when I put
IV’s in patients and I still need help changing beds because patients are too
heavy for me. Kids, Nick. Kids are too fucking heavy for me.”
His
eyes fell downcast again, concentrating on one bottle rocking back and forth
having freshly fallen from his grip. She couldn’t stop. Now that her floodgates
had opened, she wasn’t going to stop. He was going to get it.
“I
still brush my teeth more than once some mornings because I gag and I puke and
have to do it again. Hell, I have to eat dinner more than once sometimes
because I throw it up. The Reglan…where is that one?”
She looked at the bottles left in his arms and not finding it, looked to the
floor. “Here…this one. This drug that’s supposed to keep my nausea at bay when
my food doesn’t digest properly doesn’t always work. So I am still sick after I
eat. These…all of these, they help, but they don’t take the pain away, Nick.
They don’t take the pain away. Do you understand that?”
She
finally stopped her rampage and looked at him. Really looked at him. His
breathing was rapid and his eyes were filled with tears, one particularly large
one was sliding down his cheek. She reached up to wipe it away with her thumb.
“I pay well over $400 a month in medication that was created to make me feel
better and it doesn’t. To take my pain away and it doesn’t. But you know what?
I still get up every morning and I don’t ask for more. This shit keeps me
alive, but it doesn’t make my life pain free. It doesn’t take away my problems and
it doesn’t fill the gaps my life has. But if I don’t take it…I’ll die. Are you
following me yet, Nick?”
All
he could do was blink back another tear. Yeah, he got it. He thought. “I’m so
sorry, Ci.”
“Yeah,
uh-huh. What are you running from, Nick? What kind of pain are YOU in? What is
missing in your life? How in the hell do you think some stupid club drug is
going to make your life better? Going to make the pain go away? Going to fill
some gap in your life, if my medically necessary shit can’t do that, huh? What
in the HELL are you thinking, Nick?”
He
hung his head looking down at the few bottles of medicine left in his hands. “I
just do it for the buzz. I don’t know…I just…it feels good. I…” Slowly looking
up, he met her gaze, tears blurring his vision. “I have absolutely no excuse
that makes any sense.”
“No,
you don’t. You know, I’m fine with the drinking, although 6 out of 9 nights is
a bit excessive, don’t you think? But the Ex? Nick? Fucking Ecstasy!!! One
time, Nick and that shit can kill you.”
“Ex
can’t kill me, Ci.”
“Who
the FUCK do you think you’re talking to here? Mike, the brilliant body guard?
I’m not some dumb-assed wanna-be, Nick. Let’s go back to where this started.
Where did I work after
He
sighed, tired of her questioning, but…dammit. Why
couldn’t she see that it was just for fun? “The ER…”
“Yes.
Do you want to know how many toe tags I put on 22 year old feet who were just
using Ex for fun?”
“They
got a bad batch.”
“No,
Nick…they didn’t. Pure, impure, it can kill you. I saw it happen. Numerous
times. Is the sensation of touch that important to you that you’ll risk your
life for it? Is your career that unimportant or that conflicted that you’d kill
it for this? How about your fans, Nick…better yet…how about ME? Am I that unimportant
that you’d risk your life…our life so you can get a buzz?”
Silence.
Breathing. Waiting.
The
final bottles in his hand crashed to the floor as he lost control of his tears
and he sobbed, burying his face in his hands. She just let him go. And it
killed her. He said nothing, she said nothing and somehow, she kept her touch
from him. She wanted the totality of what he was doing, of what he was risking,
of what he was saying about his feelings for her in these actions to completely
sink in.
After
what felt like hours but was only moments, she reached up and ran a hand
through his sweaty hair. “Nick. Shhhhh…it’s gonna be
okay. You’re going to be okay.”
He
simply nodded into her hand, wiping his tears and nose on his own. He couldn’t
lose her…or his career…or his fans…or…or himself. So far, it was just
recreation. Nothing addictive. But he was playing with fire again and he knew
it. Why? Because it was there, and yes, the buzz was awesome. Did any of it
equal how he felt when he was with her? No. How he felt on stage? No. How he
felt when he was with his brother? Hell no. There was no pain TO escape, no
hole TO fill…and he knew it.
Finally
calming down a bit, he looked into her eyes and smiled. Not a huge “Carter”
smile, but a weak, loving, my-god-you-amaze-me smile. “I’m so sorry, Ciara. I’ve been so stupid.”
“Yep.
This one was incredibly stupid.”
“I
never…I never thought about you and how…I mean…Jesus. I was just pissed as hell
feeling you shut me out again. I’m so fucking confused with the group and my
personal career…I’m just…I just wanted to forget it all.” He buried his face in
his hands again, not crying this time, but just overwhelmed at all she’d said
to him.
“Why
do you get that luxury and I don’t, huh?”
“I
don’t. You’re right. I don’t. I need to just deal with it.”
“Yup.
And Nick. If you want to deal with it with me in the picture?”
“Yeah?”
“Then
you’ll stop. Now. I mean never again. I suspected drugs were your problem when
you were with Mandy. AJ would never tell me anything and the sick relationship
you two had coupled with all the pressure you were under was enough to explain
everything to me…so I ignored it. But now? If you don’t stop?”
“Yeah…I
know…”
”If
you don’t…you’re out. I mean it. I’ll tolerate a lot of shit but drug use of
any kind has NO place in my life. Medication is my survival. I will not let you
use it for your plaything. I’ll help you get help should you need it, but if
you make no effort…I can’t be a part of your life anymore. It’s that simple.”
“I
understand.”
“I
know you’re tired but I want you to do one more thing for me.”
“Okay.”
“I’m
gonna go get ready for work. I want you to pick up all of these bottles…read
the labels again. Put ‘em all away. Don’t worry if it’s on the right shelf or
not. They’ll end up right in a few days, I’m sure. Just take your time and
think about it, okay?”
“Yeah,
okay. I’m so sorry, Ci.”
“I
know. It’s gonna be okay. It’s just gotta be.” She took his hands in hers and
gently pulled him off of the counter, relaxing into his arms for a quiet hug.
He ran a hand through her thick curls and kissed the top of her head.
She’d
finally done it. She stuck around and confronted. She finally loved herself
enough to love someone back. How did she get to the point of loving herself?
Because of the man whose arms were wrapped around her, making her feel safe
even amidst the storm. She was not going to let him waste it away. He’d saved
her life time and again just by being a part of it. Now it was time to save
his…or at least help him get it back in order. Somehow she knew it could be
done. She had to believe it, so he could believe it.
She
also knew that she owed him the truth about herself. Even if it meant losing
him again to this drug…to a bottle…or at all. She owed him that and she was
going to do it. Hopefully today would stay with him and he’d deal with it
cleanly. Like a man. Like the man she knew he could be. Like the man she knew
he really was.
He
pulled back from their embrace and took her face in his hands. Having so much
to say and no words to help him, he simply closed his eyes and leaned in for a
kiss. A soft, sweet, almost platonic kiss.
“Lemme
clean these up…you get ready for work.”
“Okay…”
One more soft kiss and she disappeared upstairs.
******~~~~~~******~~~~~~
The
sound of all of those bottles and all of the pills inside of them haunted him
that night while he tried to sleep. He’d cleaned up every last one of them and
even finished unloading her dishwasher before quietly leaving her house. He
didn’t stay to say good-bye. After touching each and every bottle again and
reading their labels, he got scared. Frightened. Terrified. Petrified.
Could
he stay away from this club drug? Sure. Did he want to? Um…probably. The high
was great but coming down sucked. And he never knew for sure what he’d done at
the club. He made sure he went back to his room alone, but damn…anything could
happen before he left. He didn’t like not knowing. But that high? Incredible.
Did it compare to the high of having her in his life though? No. Did it clear up
his confusion over his career…who was running it, who was he working for? No.
Ultimately, it wasn’t worth it.
But,
could he deal with all that she required? He had no damned idea how sick she
really was. Sure, he’d seen her sicker than a dog with insulin reactions,
various surgeries, pains and maladies. But this day to day to day shit she’d
kept from him. To protect him? Probably. To protect her? Possibly. But, could
he really live with that on a day in day out basis? He knew he wanted no one in
his life but her. But, knowing what that entailed…could he actually live with
it?
It
scared him, so he ran. Ran out of the house and never said good-bye. Now, here
he was, alone in his room, unable to sleep, unable to think straight, unsure of
what the future was going to hold. Unsure of what he wanted it to hold.
He just knew that what he believed to be a solid fact in his life was suddenly
not so solid anymore.
***