“Are you okay?” I ask Scott as he adjusts his tie.
“Of course,” he says confidently, smiling back at me.
Every year, Scott’s parents rent out the same venue in Boston to host a benefit for a different cause. Last year it was for local homeless children, and the year before that was breast cancer. Because this is the first year I’m attending, the Hillman’s were kind enough to pick a cause very close to my heart- drug addiction and addiction education.
We finally pull up just outside the Omni Parker House, and I’m surprised to see so many members of the press there. A red carpet is stretched out front of the limo. The car in front of us is letting a few socialite couples out of the car, cameras flashing as they begin to walk towards the building.
I smile. “Wow, this is a big deal.”
“Yes,” Scott says as the car moves forward and stops in front of the red carpet. “We’ll raise a lot of money tonight. And all because of you. You inspired tonight, the way you always inspire me.” He smiles at me before stealing a kiss. Our door opens and we step out onto the sidewalk.
As soon as the cameras begin to flash, my grip on Scott’s hand tightens. I’m not as anxious as I used to be- these reporters are calmly standing behind barricades and simply ask us to smile as they let us walk past them. Then again, we aren’t exactly celebrities.
I gasp when we reach the door to the building and walk inside. The lobby is gorgeous, with classy white walls and white chandeliers dangling from the ceiling. The carpets are red with patterns of gold woven in. Every surface sparkles in the dim lighting. The only other time I’d been somewhere as nice was when I went to the opera in Florida. With him.
It’s crowded already as the ball room has yet to open, and I look around with Scott to try and find his parents. I see them first, and his mother waves to me from across the room.
I tug on Scotts hand and lead him over to his parents. His mother approaches me first. She’s a tall and ageless blonde with a perfect figure, the stereotypical trophy wife. But she’s so kind and gentle- not at all what you would expect from someone so rich and beautiful. She wraps me in a hug. “Dylan, sweetheart. You look wonderful.”
“So do you, Mrs. Hillman,” I return to her as he lets go of me.
“Please, call me Cassy. I’ve told you before,” she says in mock anger.
Scott’s older, white-haired father hugs me after Scott shakes his hand. “Dylan,” he says, kissing me on the cheek.
“Mr. Hillman, thank you for having me,” I say, staring into his kind, blue eyes. Charles Hillman looks and acts so much like Scott, it’s uncanny. Well technically, I guess Scott looks and acts like him. They’re equally smart, nice, and handsome.
“This night is for your cause, dear. We are honored to have you here.”
I smile before I hear someone clearing his throat behind me. I turn towards the sound, confused. My mouth gapes open when I see my father standing right behind me. I jump backwards, almost knocking into Mr. and Mrs. Hillman.
“Daddy?!” I yell in surprise. I put my hands over my mouth before I jump into his arms and hug him. I haven’t seen him in over six months. I can’t believe he’s here.
“Hey baby,” he says, hugging me back. “You look beautiful.”
“You look amazing! I can’t believe you’re in a tuxedo. What are you doing here?” I ask, trying not to cry and ruin my make-up. I release him and Scott immediately grabs my hand back.
“Scott flew me in on his plane. Wanted me to be here for tonight.”
I look over at Scott, his smiling face full of emotion. “Thank you,” I whisper to him. He kisses my hand.
The ballroom doors open, revealing the sable walls and dim chandeliers behind them. Everything is accented in gold, even the flooring. Tables scatter the room, gold table cloths and flowers adorning each one. Even the utensils and plates are gold.
“Oh wow, it’s amazing,” I complement Mrs. Hillman. She thanks me as the crowd follows us into the ballroom.
We all get seated at our table, one in the very front of the ballroom, and I notice there are two seats still empty. I still have a few moments to catch up with my father before the guest speakers begin, and so I turn to talk to him. I’m so wrapped up in our conversation that I don’t realize two people have sat down in the empty seats until I hear a familiar voice.
“Hey, stranger.”
I turn my head quickly. I see Theresa and her husband Sean sitting at our table. Theresa looks beautiful, her dark skin more spectacular than I’ve ever seen. Her hair is sleek and pulled back, glimmering in the light. Her choice of dress is interesting, though- a very poufy gown of taffeta. Interesting, I guess marriage had caught up to Theresa and she was no longer interested in flaunting her figure.
“Theresa! Oh my God!” I say, standing from my seat and walking over to hug her and Sean. When I sit back down I playfully slap Scott on the shoulder. “You are surprising me too much tonight! My heart can’t take it!”
Scott smiles at me, almost nervously. “Oh, I just want you to have a special night.”
Everyone continues to make conversation at the table over the most amazing steak dinner imaginable. I’m happy to hear that Sean is moving up so quickly in his firm and that Theresa is enjoying her internship. I decide not to tell her yet about my internship- I don’t want to ruin the night for them or me. So far, I’m having a great time and it is taking my mind off of everything.
The guest speakers begin shortly after dinner. All of them are wonderful and they range from an expert in addiction, to recovered addicts, and family members of people who struggle with addiction. After the last speaker- a heroin addict who has been clean twenty years- the orchestra begins to play and some guests make their way to the dance floor.
Scott holds his hand out to me as he stands, inviting me to dance with him. I tell my Dad and Theresa I’ll talk to them later and walk out to the middle of the floor with him. He begins to dance with me, starting to waltz without missing a beat. I’m just glad I learned enough in seventh grade gym class to not embarrass myself.
“You’re a wonderful dancer,” I say, staring into his bright blue eyes.
He smiles down at me. “You make it easy for me.” I shake my head at him. He’d lie himself to death if it meant making me feel better. I’ve already stepped on his feet twice.
As we continue to stare at each other, I notice his forehead begin to bead. I look at him, concerned. It’s not hot in here by any means and we’re not moving too fast to break a sweat. “Are you okay, honey? Do you feel alright?” I ask him.
He clears his throat, removing his hand from mine for only a moment to reach in his pocket for his handkerchief. After he wipes his forehead, we continue dancing. “I’m fine,” he says, giving me an encouraging smile. I let it go.
Time goes by slowly. One song blends easily into another. I’m so happy in this moment that I hope the night never ends. I feel like a princess in the arms of a prince. Everything is so simple and normal in this perfect bubble. I’m surrounded by my family and best of friends, dancing with a wonderful man who loves me. There’s no stress, no tears, and no heartache. It’s so effortless.
I begin to realize that I haven’t thought of Jeremy once in the last three or four hours. That is an amazing record for me. I sigh and smile in amazement. I’m so proud of myself. I almost think that maybe I can actually move on from him. Maybe my life can always be this wonderful, wrapped in a perfect bundle and tied with a bow. This is a life most women dream about, and I should be thankful I’ve found it. I am thankful I found it.
But then, Scott suddenly pulls away from me, stopping my thoughts and snapping me back to reality. He walks towards the stage where the orchestra is playing and reaches onto it, grabbing a microphone.
The orchestra stops playing. I’m frozen in the middle of the floor as the rest of the crowd circles around me. I’m looking around at everyone like a deer in headlights. I had gotten a little more used to having attention on me when I
was with Jeremy, but not like this. This is torture. My pulse begins to race as I start backing away to stand with the rest of the guests.
“Wait, Dylan,” Scott says, his voice booming over the speakers. Oh my God. Well, this is strangely familiar…
He holds his hand out towards me and I walk up and grab it. A few people “aw” at us. I look into his eyes, and he’s afraid and awestruck at the same time. I look to my left and see my Dad and Theresa holding hands and smiling widely.
Okay…
“Dylan,” Scott says, making me focus my attention back on him. “We have a really beautiful history. It’s definitely not a simple history, but special all the same. I loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I knew right away that I’d never find your equal and that I never wanted to. You’ve had my heart, my mind, and my love from that moment.” He lets go of my hand and drops to his knee. He digs into his pocket and produces a red, velvet box. I gasp, my face paling immediately.
He opens the box and a gorgeous, sparkling ring appears. “And I want you to know that you will always have them. Will you, Dylan Ackhart, do me the amazing honor of being my wife?”
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck.
Oh no….oh no…
I’m stunned into silence. I’m sure I look utterly ridiculous to everyone, but I can’t seem to get my mouth to close. My body begins to shake. Scott must take my reaction as stunned, happy silence because he smiles widely at me and puts the microphone on the floor. He grabs my left hand and slides the ring onto my finger. I hold it up to my face. The ring is so big; it almost comes up to my knuckle.
The room breaks into thunderous applause. It almost shocks me into reality, but before I can respond, Scott wraps me tightly in his arms. I feel tears falling onto my neck from where Scott is resting his head. By the time the cameras start flashing, I’m already hyperventilating.
Scott pulls away from me instantly. “Are you okay baby?”
“I just…” I say, as another light flashes in my face. “I need some air! Please!” I scream desperately. I glance at my Dad and Theresa and see their nervous expressions. Scott grabs my hand and waves to the crowd graciously as he walks me out of the room and through the doorway. I let go of his hand and run through the lobby and out of the front door, leaning back against the glass after it shuts. Scott opens the doors on the far side of me and steps through. He walks casually over towards me and stops when he sees the sheer panic on my face.
I take long gasps of the cool air, trying to get my heart to slow and my lungs to loosen. I feel the weight of the ring on my finger- a completely new sensation. It’s freaking me out. I’m trying not to think about it, but there it is- a 5 carat ring on my ring finger. Am I engaged? Is that what just happened in there? I slide to the sidewalk because my knees can no longer support my weight. I stare unfocused out towards the street.
“God, Dylan. Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Scott says, kneeling beside me. “You’re white as a ghost. Did I say something wrong? Did you…did you not want to get married?”
I finally turn my head towards him, a terrified expression on my face. He looks concerned. “I know we didn’t talk about it,” he says, his voice gentle. “I just thought that this is what you wanted. I thought that you were finally over dealing with everything. You’ve been doing well with therapy and you were able to interact with Jeremy without anything happening…”
Insert knife in stomach…twist…
“I thought, you know, everything was going well…” he trails off. He looks into my eyes, hopeful that I’ll say something.
My breathing has slowed slightly, my shaking subsiding. I take a deep breath. “Everything was going well. Is going well,” I quickly correct myself. “I love you and I love our life together.”
Just not as much as him. No one as much as him.
Scott smiles widely at me and hugs me, obviously taking that as an acceptance of our engagement. “You’ll feel better tomorrow, without all the spectacle,” Scott says before pulling away from me. He stands, pulling me up with him before Theresa comes through the door.
“Dylan, are you alright?” Theresa asks, running at me and grabbing my hand. Scott nods towards her, mumbling about going back and checking on the guests.
As soon as Scott is out of sight, Theresa turns to me. “What happened? Aren’t you happy? I thought things were going well?”
I sigh. “They are. It’s just…” I stop, my eyes pleading with her.
Theresa drops my hand. “Oh, Dylan. You can’t be serious. You can’t be.”
I turn away from her in frustration. “What do you want me to say?”
“Dylan, he’s a hard core drug addict. And he’s about to be arrested. For murder! Nothing happened between you, did it?”
I turn back to her, eyes wide. Her body tenses. “…did it?” Theresa asks, aghast. When I don’t answer, she hangs her head. “Jesus, Dylan. Don’t you know how lucky you are to have Scott? You could have everything with him. Jeremy can’t do that for you. He’s only a liability, even now. Didn’t you hear a word Scott said to you in there?”
“Of course I heard what he said. But, oh Theresa, don’t you get it? The way he feels about me is exactly the way I feel about Jeremy. From the moment I saw Jeremy, he’s the one that’s had my love and my heart. I’ve never met his equal. I love Scott but not in the way I love Jeremy. That kind of love is hard to just get over, okay? And I just wished I had more time to get over it before getting engaged to someone else. I don’t think it’s fair to Scott. Although, I’m not sure I can say no now.”
Theresa shakes her head at me. “Well you need to get a grip. And soon, before you lose that man forever. And that would be really stupid of you.” She turns from me and starts to walk away. She opens the door and pauses, her head turning to me one more time. She makes eye contact with me for a moment, and says quietly, “You need to grow up, Dylan.” She walks through the glass door and back into the lobby.
Really? Theresa told me to grow up?
I take another deep breath and begin to walk into the hotel. Theresa’s absolutely right- it is time for me to grow up and be responsible. Being with Scott is the responsible and healthy thing to do. He’s good for me. Maybe this will turn out to be the perfect opportunity to move on.
Chapter 11- Sing Me to Heaven
“I guess congratulations are in order,” Dr. Spritz says, nodding toward my ring. I look down at it and then back up at her. “How have you been handling that?”
“Well it’s only been a few days. I think it’s going okay. It’s a lot to get used to for me, but I haven’t talked to Jeremy at all. It’s been easier because he hasn’t tried to contact me. That helps.”
She adjusts herself on her chair. “Maybe that means he recognizes you would like to move on.”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
We sit in silence for a moment. “Dylan, can I ask you a question about your relationship with Jeremy that we haven’t addressed before?”
“Okay,” I say, instantly becoming uncomfortable.
Dr. Spritz sits forward. “How did you miss the signs of addiction with him? You’ve dealt with drug addiction before. You say your mother battle with her addiction. Do you think there is a reason you didn’t associate Jeremy’s behavior with that of an addict?”
I nod, collecting my thoughts before I answer. “I guess I just didn’t want to believe it. That’s the bottom line.”
“Maybe that’s something to remember going forward. Don’t let yourself be blinded by your feelings. It’s important to differentiate between emotions and logic sometimes.” Dr. Spritz scribbles on her notepad.
I sigh. “Right.”
My dad has been staying with us since the night of the engagement. Unfortunately, I haven’t been much for conversation. Other than going to school, I basically sleep or zone out in front of the TV. I’ve been casually watching the news, waiting to see if Jeremy has been arrested yet.
Scott’s been working a lot lately at
his. He’s also been working for his father’s company here and there. I feel guilty that I’m relieved by this, but the fact is I need space from people for a while. I just feel…off somehow.
As I’m sitting on the couch in sweatpants again today, watching a show about a bunch of rich women who like to scream at each other, I hear the refrigerator close behind me. I glance back and see my dad walking over towards the couch, beer in hand. I give him a half-hearted smile. That’s all I can manage these days.
He sits down next to me and pats my leg. “Hey, kid.”
For some reason, my eyes swell with tears. Ugh, what is wrong with me? “Hey daddy,” I quietly respond.
We sit in silence for a moment. I know he doesn’t know what to say to me because he probably doesn’t know what’s wrong. Hell, I don’t even know what’s wrong. I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t asked me yet. Maybe he’s scared to.
I think about the conversation I had with Dr. Spritz earlier this week. “Dad,” I say, before looking up into his kind and comforting face. He looks at me. “When did you realize mom had a problem? With drinking and…the other stuff?”
He squirms awkwardly on the couch, obviously caught off guard by my question. It’s a subject we usually do anything in the world to avoid, but I need to talk about it today. I need closure with some part of my life.
“Well, I guess I knew from the start. Right when she started drinking. She would come home smelling like alcohol. She would try to cover the track marks by wearing long sleeves in the summer. But I had been looking for something to happen, honestly. We weren’t happy in our marriage for a long time, kiddo. And I knew she…” he trails off. I see him struggling with the words. “You know, she had her mind focused on other things.”
I nod. “I know, dad. I know about him.”
He nods. He doesn’t seem surprised. “Yeah. I figured you did. The year you went into the school where he worked, your whole demeanor changed towards me and even your mother. Eventually you got back to the way you were before, but I knew you had pieced it together.”
Trials (Rock Bottom) Page 9