Go to therapy?
“Grief is circumstantial,” I answer, before they send me to therapy. Four years when I was a teenager was plenty. “More like a fingerprint, not one is the same. You can’t compare my reader’s journey with mine. I... this isn’t running away, more like pausing and trying to figure out what is wrong with me before I can continue.”
“I told you,” Rocco interrupts. “She’s been going through an identity crisis. This woman just happened to die while it’s happening.”
“More like, identity cycle,” Tucker corrects him. “It has to do with Golden Boy.”
“Only a couple of weeks ago,” I say, staring at the pastel color socks. They read, always be yourself. Unless you can be a unicorn. Then always be a unicorn. “I was in Paris with this man who just wanted to know all about me. He’s perfect, you know?”
“Nobody is perfect,” Ethan corrects me.
“Well, almost perfect. Of course, he has his flaws. He can be an asshole.”
I’m not even sure why I’m crying while resting my head on Zeke’s shoulder. I continue, “There’s a part of me who wants to open up to him, while the other reminds me what could happen if I let him into my life.”
“Not everyone is like Davis,” Ethan reminds me.
Zeke tenses.
I glare at Ethan because we don’t talk about Davis.
Rocco, who hates altercations, changes the subject. “What’s going to happen after Cabo? Love to be your entourage, but my boss is going to throw a fit and fire me if I stay away for too long.”
Zeke adds, “We should stop pretending that we have normal jobs and just play music again.”
“This is the game plan,” I say, ignoring his suggestion because Sinners of Seattle is over.
The band was unique, and we created something amazing, but we’re better without it—I think.
“For the next twelve months, I’m going to dissect my life and adjust each part, so I can enjoy my future without guilt...or something like that.”
Tucker enters the room and says, “The jet is ready. Pack your things, we’re leaving.”
This isn’t running away, I tell myself, when I pick up my phone and dial Dad’s number.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he answers. “We were just talking about you.”
“I hope something good,” I say, trying to test the waters. Maybe Alicia had someone call on her behalf.
“Well, Tess’s birthday is coming up soon, with yours right after, and then it’s Sadie’s. We were thinking about doing something big,” he says. “A family trip or a cruise. We can pair it with spring break, so the kids don’t have to worry about missing school.”
“Maybe leave that for when Tess turns thirty-five, and I turn thirty,” I suggest, buying me a year.
“Nana.” Tucker grabs my empty luggage and taps his watch.
“You’re with the guys?”
“Uh-huh,” I mumble and take a deep breath. “Alicia died.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks, confused.
“A couple of days ago, her lawyer called me. She had one of those famous mommy makeovers. There were complications post-surgery,” I explain.
“Why did they call you?”
I laugh and begin to choke with the tears. “Other than she’s fucking evil? She put me as her next of kin.”
“What do you need, baby girl?”
Clearing my tears with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, I answer, “Nothing, we’ve taken care of everything.”
“We?” he asks. “Are the guys helping?”
“Uh-huh,” I confirm.
“Give the phone to Tuck or Ethan,” he orders.
“Dad, I’m fine,” I insist.
“Hannah...I’m here for you.”
He’s already worried and maybe getting ready to fly to San Francisco. Oh, Alicia, this is what you wanted. For Dad to suffer through his children.
If I voice it, maybe he’ll settle down and leave me to handle this. “That’s what she would’ve wanted, Dad. For you to see through her last wishes because you’re trying to protect me. I won’t let her manipulate us anymore.”
“Sadie or I can be there tomorrow,” he suggests.
“I’m leaving...taking a sabbatical,” I continue, trying not to choke on my own anger, sadness, and guilt. Showing him that I’m a grown woman. “Can you give the news to Tess, please?”
“Kid, don’t shut us out, please.”
“Please, I need time,” I beg him.
“Sweetheart,” Sadie says from the other side of the phone. “It’s okay to be sad.”
“I’m not,” I counteract. “I’m managing it.”
“You’re not supposed to manage grief. It’s okay to feel loss. Pain. It is normal.”
“It’s not normal to grieve after her,” I say, but my voice is now loud, a raging sound. “Not everyone is happy and forgiving like you.”
“My Hannah is,” she answers, with her usual sweet voice. “Why do you feel the need to punish yourself?”
“I’m not your kid to lecture.” I stop her, and I gasp when I realize what I said, but it’s too late, so I finish the call by saying, “Make sure to tell Tess in person. You know how much this could affect her.”
“Anger,” Tucker says. “Let’s make sure we have tequila on the plane. I’m not dealing with Angry Hannah.”
Tequila sounds good.
I realize that we do this way too often. The five of us run off, self-medicate with alcohol or other stuff to cover up and dull the pain and feelings that are destroying us.
My mother died, and I was never able to make her love me. It shouldn’t matter, it should be a moot point. But the kid in me will always wonder what she could do better to receive just a little love from her. I wasn’t even pretty like Tess.
Sixteen
Hannah
The week in Baja is a blur. Tucker is the designated caregiver. Meaning, he can’t drink. We spend most of the time in the small music studio the Deckers have in their vacation home. The piano and I are one and the same. I don’t leave the room that much. My fingers hurt, but I can’t stop playing. The guys barely leave my side and take turns watching me.
I am numbed by pain. Pain I dull with alcohol. It’s not the pain of losing Alicia, but the pain I suffered while she was around. I pushed it aside, ignored it, and avoided it for years. The same way I’ve avoided everything else that’s hurt me.
This shouldn’t affect me. I’m a grown woman, but surprise, surprise, bottling shit up does affect you when your glass is full. I knew better.
Why did I let things get out of control?
Dad helped me overcome my childhood. Still, I never dealt with what happened with Davis and how my mother spun our relationship to make money.
“Have you decided where you’re going?” Ethan asks on the sixth day.
“My glass is empty,” I complain.
“She’s still drunk,” Zeke announces. “I think she missed the part where we said, this is your last one—last night.”
I glare at him. “No, I’m pretty aware of everything. I’m keeping a buzz, not drunk. Which means I need another one.”
They look at each other and shake their heads.
“We have to leave tomorrow,” Ethan says with a firm voice. “If you’re not ready, I’m dragging you to Seattle.”
I grunt and push myself off of the barstool. “Fine, I’ll take a shower. We can plan where I’m going afterward.”
“Fuck, if she’s the responsible one of the five, I can’t imagine what Rocco is going to do if anything like this happens to him,” Zeke complains.
“Did someone say my name?” Rocco, who is actually the most fucked up of all of us, enters the studio.
“They’re wondering what you’re going to do if your world collapses,” I tell him.
“How are you feeling, babe?”
I shrug. “Need one more day not to feel. These two are not letting it happen.”
Rocco, who looks like a teddy bear, gives me a hug. �
�Why don’t you come to Seattle with us?”
“That’s not taking time off from everything and finding myself,” I counteract.
“We can go with you. I worry about what could happen to you.”
I chuckle. “Like you guys are going to let me go without a security detail.”
Every time I travel alone, I’m not alone. They send a bodyguard or two to make sure I’m safe.
“Promise you’ll be safe.” Rocco looks at me, his hazel eyes filled with worry. “You won’t do anything stupid.”
“Scouts honor,” I say. “My plan is going to temples, volunteering, and attend a few self-healing workshops. Everything PG and safe.”
After my shower, I log into my computer, and with the help of the guys, we start planning the next twelve months of my life. Tucker sets up the security team who’ll ensure I’m safe. The amazing thing about having them as my family is that I don’t feel alone. The downside is having four overbearing brothers can be overwhelming.
“Golden Boy wants your number,” Ethan says, while we’re having dinner.
“No,” I answer.
“What’s really going on with him, Nana?” Tucker asks. “Usually, guys see us with you and walk away. This one is nice to us. Like trying hard, nice.”
I shrug.
“Nana?” Zeke presses. “I thought you hated him.”
“It’s complicated,” I explain. “We have to pretend we’re civil in front of June.”
Tucker laughs. “You slept with him again, didn’t you?”
I roll my eyes and don’t answer.
“How long have you been sleeping with him?” Zeke asks. “This is your longest relationship.”
“Complicated,” I repeat. “We aren’t steady at all. It happens by accident, you know.”
The four of them laugh at me.
“Like ‘oops, my Golden Boy dick fell into your cunt’ kind of accident?” Rocco says.
“Don’t be crude, Rocco,” Ethan reprimands him.
“He’s crude, but he’s also right,” Tucker says.
“Leave me alone,” I protest.
“There’s no such thing as accidental sex, Nana,” Zeke says and looks at me. “It’s okay to like a guy and go back to him. The dude seems to care about you.”
The other three nod in agreement.
“It’s not like that,” I say, but honestly, I’m not sure how things are with Alex.
We enjoy sleeping with each other as much as we enjoy fighting. Sometimes, I wonder if our fights are foreplay. But there’s nothing more than sex between us.
Sure, I know he is the middle child. His mom takes care of him like he’s the baby—and he hates it. He adores his sisters and his brothers are his best friends. The guy is a billionaire who could retire to Switzerland and do what he loves -- being around snow for the rest of his life. I also know he likes the spotlight, which I hate. He loves to be the center of attention.
Fine, I know more than I should about him. He has a disciplined workout routine. His family doesn’t know it, but he still does physical therapy, and he still goes to the chiropractor twice a week to adjust his hips.
His acupuncturist helps him manage the pain. He refuses to take pain medication. I don’t know the rest, but I want to be the one he confides in.
“She went silent,” Rocco says mockingly. “Nana likes Golden Boy.”
“Stop,” I order, then I look at Ethan. “Tell him that if he wants to communicate with me, he has to mail me letters. I’ll be out of reach.”
Ethan cocks an eyebrow. “You have your computer. The security team has a satellite phone. Your phone has a plan to work all around the world, and you want him to write to you?”
“Dude, my time machine worked,” Rocco jokes. “We’re back in the eighties.”
I glare at him.
“Snail mail,” I continue, ignoring their stupid comments. “He can mail them to you, you’ll make sure they reach me.”
Ethan shakes his head. “I swear, Nana, if he starts sending them, I’m charging you for becoming your assistant.”
“He’s not going to do it, but if he does, ignore him,” I suggest.
“He has your cat,” he reminds me.
I grunt. “Good point.”
Tucker pulls out a hundred-dollar bill. “Ten of these says that they’re married before Nana is back from this trip.”
“You’re not betting on my love life,” I complain.
“Nah, he’s the rebound guy,” Rocco says and pulls out his phone, typing fast. “Okay, I have Tuck with 1k for they get hitched before the year is over. Who else?”
“Stop,” I order.
They ignore me. Zeke is the only one who swears nothing is going to happen between Alex and me. Ethan says we’ll date for a year after I return from my trip. Then we’ll get married. Rocco laughs.
“You’re just pushing her to do the opposite,” Rocco says. “There’s something between them, but she won’t let it happen until she moves on from Davis.”
“He’s history,” I protest.
“You think every guy is like him,” Rocco explains. “I can’t attest for Golden Boy—”
“Alex,” I correct him. “His name is Alex.”
“A guy like Davis would’ve come to you only if you had a big funeral with press. How many times did he play dumb when you needed him?” Ethan jumps into the discussion.
“Why are we bringing him into this conversation?”
I look at them, trying to figure out if I can slam one of their exes to change the discussion, but other than Ethan, these guys don’t believe in long term relationships. Bringing up Ethan’s exes is pointless. He’s always dated regular people, and his breakups are always amicable.
“My point is that if you’re taking a year off to work on your shit, you might as well work on moving on from Davis.”
“I’ll try,” I concede and look at Ethan, “letters, don’t give him my number.”
“How is it that you two have slept together, and he doesn’t have your phone number?”
Because it’s only sex.
“There’s nothing between us, we’re not interested in each other. You don’t want to understand it, but it’s purely an accident that we end up having sex. His sister sends him to pick up something from her apartment, I’m there, and after a big fight, we...do it.”
“Accidentally?”
“Shut up, Rocco!”
Tucker closes his laptop. “Everything is ready, Nana. If you need to come home earlier than planned, just do it. Are you sure you don’t want to go to San Francisco before heading to Haiti?”
I shake my head. “I have everything I need with me.”
“Do you have cash?”
“Nope.”
He rolls his eyes and pulls out his wallet. The guys do the same, and stack all their cash in the center of the table.
“I’ll give the security team orders to have cash in hand.”
“Look at you, if anyone saw you right now, they’d know you can be responsible,” I mock him. Tucker likes people to think he’s just another rich, famous guy. He runs the charity his parents founded when they got married. Rocco and Zeke work for him. They do a great job with the foundation. No one looks into what they do, only what they don’t do or when they party.
“Take whatever I owe you from the next royalty check,” I request.
Every quarter, we receive royalties from our music and merchandise. It’s surprising to see how much money Sinners of Seattle still makes after all these years. It doesn’t hurt that these guys still play in Seattle when they’re bored.
Seventeen
Alex
Avoiding my sister for a week has been a fucking circus. More so, since I had to convince her to sell me her apartment immediately. I owe Sterling big time. He’s keeping her occupied. Apparently, leaving in the middle of my birthday party to take care of her friend—for her—isn’t a good excuse.
What does she want me to tell her?
I don’t
have another answer. I still don’t know what got into me, but I knew I had to be here for Hannah.
Thinking of Hannah being alone after the news…not that she was alone. Her friends were there, for her—with her.
When I arrive at June’s apartment, I spot a couple lingering by Hannah’s door.
“May I help you?” I ask and take a step back when the man turns around to look at me.
Kaden Hades himself. I’ve seen his picture in Hannah’s apartment. Is it wrong to go into her office now that she’s not around? I mean, I have to look for Draco, who hides under her desk.
“Who are you?” he asks.
“Alexander Spearman,” I introduce myself, extending my hand.
He nods, shaking my hand. “June’s brother,” he says. “I thought she moved to Colorado.”
“She did. I just bought her apartment, and I’m moving in,” I announce, showing him the small box I’m carrying with me.
“Do you know where Hannah sent Draco?” the woman next to him asks.
I pull out the keys and smile. “I’m in charge of him,” I reply and extend my hand to her. “Sorry, I’m Alex.”
“Sadie,” she answers.
“Hannah’s mom.”
She smiles sadly and corrects me, “Stepmom.”
“Well, every time she talks about you, she says you’re her mom, so I assumed.”
“Give her time, Sadie,” Kaden says, and she nods, hugging herself.
Remembering the conversation I heard through the other side of the wall, I take the liberty to say, “Hannah was hurting that day—a lot.”
“You saw her?”
“From afar,” I tell them, without adding that our walls are thin, so I heard a lot of what’s happening before she left. “Pain is a bitch.”
I nod toward Sadie and say, “Pardon my vocabulary. The point is that when you’re in so much pain, you can hurt your loved ones and yourself without caring because your mind is filled with endorphins that don’t let you think straight.”
“She’s not answering our phone calls,” Kaden says, pulling out his phone.
Not sure if talking to them is the right thing to do, but if these were my parents and one of my siblings had disappeared, I’d want them to at least hear the little I know.
Almost Perfect: A Frenemies to Lovers Romance Page 9