Page 62 of The Lies Always Told (Baker Oaks #4)

THIRTY

AFRAID, ANGRY, AND SAFE

Us by Gracie Abrams and Taylor Swift & Good Luck, Charlie by Gracie Abrams

Gus

“Ugh,” Nellie grunts as the sun comes through the window onto her face, kissing her with its glow.

She covers her head with a pillow, and all I can do is hope she’ll go back to sleep but she doesn’t.

She sits up and holds her head between her legs, grunting again.

If I didn’t know the underlying reasons for her pain, I would laugh.

She looks miserable. Miserably cute, but miserable all the same.

“Here,” I say, holding out painkillers and a glass of water.

“Everything hurts,” she says, still rubbing her eyes and not looking at me.

“I’m surprised you’re even awake right now.

Take it, it’ll help.” She follows directions and takes the four pills, swallowing them with a big gulp.

Something tells me even the 800 milligrams of ibuprofen won’t be enough for her to feel better, but it’s a start.

The groceries were delivered about two hours ago, and the Sancocho is cooking on the stove.

The white rice to go with it is ready, thanks to two video chats with Mom to figure it out.

After this, I’m going to be the Sancocho king.

“Close the curtains, Gus. I need to be in darkness. I shouldn’t have to see the light.” This. This is what I was worried about. Last night gave me insight into her feelings of despair, but it wasn’t just the alcohol. It’s what she’s feeling right now.

“Sorry to break it to you, Trouble, but this cabin you love so much has no curtains.” She grunts again, throwing herself onto the bed and wincing when her head bounces on the pillow.

“Wrong move,” she whispers, making me laugh.

At least part of her sass is here. I was worried I was going to have to call her sister if she was completely out of it.

I don’t want her to mask her pain and her thoughts with humor, but I also don’t want her to feel like somebody else.

My Nellie laughs. My Nellie cries. But my Nellie has to come back from this. She has to.

I sit on the edge of the bed but don’t say anything, waiting for her to be the one to speak.

“I’m sorry I threw up last night.”

“Why are you sorry? It’s not like you could’ve avoided that. Are you sorry you threw up, or are you sorry you drank enough to make yourself practically pass out on the couch?”

“I’m sorry you had to witness it.”

“Nellie, be thankful I did. Do you know how dangerous that was?” I told myself I wasn’t going to bring it up.

I told myself I was just going to be supportive of her today, but I would be lying to myself if I didn’t say what I’ve been thinking: how reckless it was for her to drink that much alone.

“You drank almost an entire bottle of vodka by yourself, in this cabin, away from everyone, without telling anyone where you were. That was reckless, even for you.”

“How did you even find me?” she asks.

“I listen.” I know you. I love you. All the words I want to say.

“Oh, so this was your first try? You listen so well, you knew you could find me here?” she sasses. I take a deep breath and clench my fists. I’m about to lose my shit. This is a game for her, and I’m about to lose it.

“No, Nellie. I wish I could say it was. I looked for you like a man starved. I looked for you until I had to stop and breathe because my heart rate was so high, I thought I was going to end up in the hospital. It took me entirely too long to figure it out, and then there was the drive here. Hours of not knowing. Hours of calling you and hoping you were here.”

She stares at me with panic behind her eyes. Good—maybe she gets it now. “And I found you. Imagine your sister and your family. They were so worried. They are so worried. You need to call them. That was so reckless, even for you.”

“I don’t need to do anything,” she snips. “All of you just need to leave me alone and stop scolding me.”

“Someone has to. And no, we won’t leave you alone.”

“No?” she asks.

“No, we’re not leaving you alone. I won’t leave you alone.

You have so many people in your corner, and we’re all here for you.

” Can’t she see it? Can’t she see we want what’s best for her?

That her family could’ve lost her because she was suffering in silence—alone?

Can’t she see I would give her my heart if I could, just so I could stop her pain?

Can’t she see I would take it all, all the pain, for her?

“They’re all mourning their friend.” Goddamn it, Nellie. She can’t. She can’t see it.

“AND YOU WANT THEM TO MOURN YOU TOO?” I scream at her, and she flinches. Fuck. “I’m sorry, I just… We were all so scared.”

“Don’ t yell at me.” She crosses her arms over her chest and lets out a breath.

“I’m trying to keep my cool, but damn it, you’re not listening. You’re watching and assuming but not listening to all of us telling you we’re here for you, telling you to trust us. I’m trying to be patient and be here for you, but damn it, Nellie, you scared me. What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.” She lets out a breath, and a tear falls down on her cheek. I’m surprised she even has tears to shed. “I wasn’t thinking. It was too much.”

“I have to ask you something, and I need you to listen carefully and answer truthfully,” I tell her. Her eyes open wide, and she nods.

“Are you trying to hurt yourself?”

“No,” she answers quickly—too quickly. I cock my head sideways as she lets out an exasperated breath. “Maybe.”

I nod, softening my features so she knows I’m both serious and understanding.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Be direct.

Be honest. Be patient. These are all things I read online when I was researching self-harm.

Give them a reason but assess the situation to make sure you know if you can handle it.

“No,” she replies matter-of-factly.

“Is there someone you’d like to call?” My last question in the trifecta I saw I should ask. She shakes her head no and lies back down on the bed.

“Come here,” I whisper. I scoot backward until my back hits the wall and help her climb into my lap.

I cradle her against my chest. Her hair is ruffled, I’m assuming from going to sleep with it wet, but it’s soft, just as it always is.

It smells like vanilla, sweet and intoxicating.

“I need you to be honest with me. I’m not going to judge.

I’m not gonna go anywhere. Are you safe? ”

“I am. I promise. I’m not going to hurt myself, but I’m not going to lie, I thought about it. It was just too much, Gus. It’s too much. ”

“It is. You just went through something nobody should go through, but we need you here. I need you here.”

She looks up, her eyes finding mine, searching mine. Her lips part like she wants to say something, but she hesitates. I feel her fingers grip the fabric of my shirt like she’s holding on for dear life. My heart clenches.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she whispers, barely audible. “I don’t know how to be okay after this.”

“You don’t have to be okay right now,” I tell her, my voice steady but soft. “You just have to be here. You just have to let yourself breathe. But Nellie, you don’t have to carry it all. You told me to let you help carry my health—do you remember that?”

“Yeah, and then you fucking dumped me like I meant nothing to you.”

“You know what, Nellie…I wasn’t going to do this now, but I’m done dancing around it.

I didn’t dump you. I did try to play it off as less than what we were…

what we are , but guess what? I’m not going anywhere.

It’s not what you think, and you didn’t allow me to say anything.

You jumped to conclusions and came for my throat.

I was afraid, okay? Is that what you want to hear? ”

“Gus, if you’re just going to lie to me, just leave. I’m so tired of the lies always told. I can’t try to decipher?—”

“Damn it, woman. I got sick,” I interrupt. She sits up and brings her hands to hold my face, holding my gaze and reassuring me. So much for me being the rock she needed right now. “I’m okay, I promise, but I wasn’t for a bit there, and I didn’t want to drag you down with me. I was terrified.”

“Gus—” I bring my hands up to stop her from talking. I guess we’re doing this now. It’s all or nothing.

“No, let me finish. They didn’t know what was going on, and I just…I was scared. I was scared to tell you. I was scared it would be too much for you to handle, and you would end up too worried and too sad. ”

“You know what made me fucking sad? You pushing me away. You know what made me really angry? You disappearing on me and then showing up a couple of weeks later like nothing happened. Am I that disposable to you?”

“No. You’re not disposable. I was trying to protect you, and if I recall correctly, you pushed me away too. I was giving you space. I was trying to protect your heart while mine was slowly falling apart. I didn’t want to be a burden to you.”

“Funny you say that—that’s the same reason I’m here.

Because I’m a burden to everyone around me.

” She brings her hands out to point at the cabin.

“Why am I the one with these feelings, huh? I don’t deserve to be this sad.

I didn’t lose my husband. I didn’t lose my dad.

I wasn’t removed from my home and sent to live someplace else.

My life will continue as usual…so why am I this fucking sad?

” She exhales shakily, her forehead dropping against my chest. I run my hand up and down her back, slow and steady, grounding her, reminding her she’s not alone.

“It was my fault,” she admits, her voice raw.