The Fixed Trilogy: Forever With You(94)

When Liesl went into work that night, I forced myself to find something to do other than sleep and cry. Something other than remember. I turned on Spotify and found something to download on my Kindle app since Liesl had no books in her apartment.

But I couldn’t get into the novel. And nothing else on the Internet or on TV was enough to occupy my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking, and as I moved through the grieving process, my thoughts turned obsessive, as they always did when I was hurting. Some of them weren’t even clearly formed but were instead only rough impulses. The urge to see him, for example. Not to talk to him, but to look at him from a distance. The urge to smell him again. The urge to hear his voice.

The yearning drove me mad.

And it pissed me off.

Because I was stronger than this. I was stronger than Hudson Pierce and Celia Werner. I would not let them pull me down to the person that I once was.

She thought she could destroy me?

Well, f*ck that. I’d survived heartache before. I could survive it again.

Adrenaline surged through me, and I suddenly felt invincible. Or capable at least—invincible was going a bit too far. But “Roar” by Katy Perry came on my playlist, and I did jump around the room singing at the top of my lungs.

It felt good. Invigorating. Energizing.

Then “So Easy” by Phillip Phillips came on, and immediately my strength disappeared. “You make it so easy…” he sang, and all I heard was Hudson saying it to me.

And it was all a lie.

I dissolved into a mess of snot and ugly tears. Well, another night of crying wasn’t the worst thing in the world. There was always tomorrow to be strong.





Chapter Twenty-One


The next day, I didn’t feel stronger, but I did feel resolved.

Planning the future still seemed overwhelming, but I could handle today. Baby steps. It’s what I’d learned in therapy. It was something I knew how to do.

On paper and in pencil, I broke down the hours. It helped to look at it written down so it didn’t feel bigger than it was. I started at the bottom of the page since I’d already decided to go to the club.

8 p.m. to 3 a.m. work, I wrote.

Before that I’d go to a group meeting. I looked online and found one at six that evening. Perfect. I filled it in above my work shift.

At the top of the page I wrote in: breakfast, shower, dress.

Then: sneak over to the penthouse to get some clothes.

Even writing the last thing had been hard. To say it sounded daunting was an understatement. The Bowery had been the place where Hudson and I had really begun sharing our life. It would be filled with painful reminders.

But going through the memories, dealing with them—that was part of healing.

Getting through the first line of items was easier than I’d expected. Breakfast actually stayed down, and I managed to find a pair of drawstring shorts in Liesl’s drawer that didn’t fall off my waist.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Liesl offered around a bite of a bagel.

“No. I need to do this by myself.” I threw my still wet hair into a ponytail. “I’ll need you for the next time—when I get all my stuff. But this time, I’m just going to run in and pack a bag to get me through a few days. It’ll feel good to finally wear panties again.”

I stood up and looked at my bare feet. “Shit. I only have my heels from the party.”

“I’ll loan you some shoes.”

“We don’t have the same size feet.” Liesl was much taller than me, with a larger frame. If it weren’t for the drawstring, I’d be drowning in her shorts.

She kicked off the flip-flops she was wearing. “You can wear these. They’re like one-size-fits-many.”

“Fine.” I slid my feet into them. They’d do. “Okay. I’m off. Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck. You got this.” She pulled me in for a hug. “You’re sure he won’t be there?”


“Positive.” I’d called Norma for that. She’d checked with Hudson’s secretary and reported back that he had a meeting in his office all afternoon. And he’d told Liesl he wasn’t staying at the penthouse. If I believed him, which I didn’t necessarily, then he wouldn’t be there no matter what. It was possible that he hadn’t even been back there after L.A. I guess I’d find out soon enough.

Since it was still early in the day, I took my time getting to the penthouse. I took the subway instead of a cab and didn’t rush to meet the connecting train. But as much as I dillydallied, I eventually arrived at my destination.

The memories started before I made it inside the building. I stood outside staring at the letters engraved on the stone above the door. The Bowery. In many ways it felt like the first time I’d been there, when I was nervous and anxious and unaware of what waited for me inside. Then though, my stomach fluttered with butterflies. Today it was filled with rolling stones. Though both had my tummy in motion, there was a definite difference in gravity. One feeling lifted me up. The other pulled me down, anchored me to my dismal reality.

With a final breath of fresh air, I headed in.

On the elevator ride up, I decided I’d be no-nonsense about my task. As soon as the door opened inside the penthouse, I headed straight to my closet. I put on some underwear and changed into a dress and shoes suitable for work. Then I packed a duffel bag with a few items to get me through the next week. I was done and ready to go in less than fifteen minutes.