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 New York and they’d only spoken a few brief times. He was pissed. She was not in the mood to deal with a sniveling idiot. She knew their relationship was more than sex, but damn, you don’t just go running off if you’re not getting any. Forget that the refusals were based on a cover-up. Forget that the truth behind them might end everything anyway. Ciara was mad. And tired. And lonely. So, online time might fill that void. Besides, she loved checking in with Nick this way. Via the fans. They always had some interesting stories to tell. And no matter how outlandish some were, there always seemed to be truth woven within every one of them.

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 New York where he’d been out. Almost every night he’d been gone was represented here. Almost every damned night. She quickly left the thread, not having any concern over a fan’s opinion of the pictures. She could have painted their portrait anyway. “Who’s the floozy?” “Why doesn’t it ever look like he’s having fun when he’s partying?” “Where’s that bimbo that was on the cruise with him…I see he has someone else already.” And her favorite, “He’s just tired. Nick doesn’t drink. See? He has water.” As calmly as she had turned on the PC, she turned it off, stood and went to bed. Sleep optional.

******~~~~~~******~~~~~~

“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 Tennessee?”

“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. “MesMestinon?”

“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 Tennessee?”

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.

***

 

 

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