by Lowe, T. I.
“I’ll… I’ll do better. Please.” Tears are trickling down my face as I beg.
He pulls away and stares at me with pity. “I’ve got to focus on getting myself over some stuff right now. That’s what this trip was supposed to be about.” He shakes his head slowly. “All of this stress isn’t helping. I really think it’s for the best that you go back to New York.”
A lump forms in my throat at his rejection, but I manage to screech out, “Okay.”
“Look, I’m already packed so I’m heading out.” Greyson places a gentle kiss on my temple. “Please take care of you,” he says softly before grabbing his backpack and leaving me stunned. This rejection from Greyson hurts like nothing I have ever felt. He’s the only person that has ever been a solid fixture in my life and I’m not only pushing him away, I’m beating him away.
I eventually stumble back to my room and notice for the first time that all of my belongings from the RV are here. I stare at my luggage and scold myself out loud. “You did this. And there’s no one else to blame.”
I notice my travel journal sitting on top of my suitcase and pick it up on my way over to the bed. Wiping away my tears, I perch on the end and flip through the last few weeks of my life. Greyson said it was a travel journal to record our adventure, but as I scan through mine I’ve noticed it is more about my life’s journey and how I’m not handling it very well. I reach the last page with writing on it and the tears start back up. It’s not my handwriting, but Greyson’s.
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. –Matthew 11:28.
Greyson has always been so in tune with me. He’s absolutely right this time. I am burden and so, so very tired. All I feel like doing is crawling back in the bed and drowning in my humiliation and misery. So that’s exactly what I do.
~~~~
Two weeks back in New York feels like years, or decades, or centuries. Regardless, it’s way too long. I feel all itchy and nothing seems to alleviate it.
Leeza wasted no time booking me and I’ve already knocked out two photo shoots and have another one on the books for tomorrow. So here I am back to my normal routine. Yet it’s not sitting right with me. Nothing feels normal anymore.
The train ride back to New York had given me enough of a chance to get my act together. By the time I arrived at the train station, I had a car waiting to whisk me away to my full-service salon. I had the works done, too. I even had my stylist add some golden low lights to my nearly white-blonde hair. The driver delivered my luggage to my apartment before returning to pick me up. As I waited for my freshly manicured nails to dry, I had my assistant bring over a new designer outfit. It’s a simple kelly-green wrap dress that I accentuated with gold hoop earrings and thin gold bangle bracelets. By the time I had the strap of the tan wedge sandals secured, Julia Rose was ready to be seen.
The town car delivered me to my apartment and I wasn’t surprised the word had already gotten around of my return enough to bring out some paparazzi. I had my façade securely in place by the time the driver opened my car door.
A supermodel living happily and contently in New York stepped out on the sidewalk with a phone to her ear. She laughed into the dead phone and said her goodbyes before slipping it into her new designer tote. Julia Rose sought out the lens of the half dozen cameras and gave each one an award-winning yet subtle smile.
My strategy worked, too. Those jerks were disappointed that they did not find the train-wreck their pockets were counting on. Good. People shouldn’t make money off of others’ failures or personal problems.
It still didn’t turn them off from me. The headlines the next day declared NYC’s SWEETEST COUPLE TURNS SOUR. The stories say that Sawyer Helms broke Julia Rose’s heart for a younger model. Pictures of us together with the dramatic tearing effect between us accompany the headlines. Of course there are shots of the new couple together as well, with Sawyer looking stunningly handsome and her looking infatuated with how she is hanging all over him. She looks pathetic and it makes me wonder if that’s exactly what I looked like, too. It makes me disgusted with myself. The paparazzi idiots are slow to the show, though. Sawyer has already moved on and the newly brokenhearted younger model has moved to California. Ignited sent her to their sister agency out west per Sawyer’s request. The agency has always treated him like royalty and won’t do anything to harm their relationship with their golden boy. Greyson could hold that title, but he has always declined it and the superficial illusion of this celebrity life. He has always kept this world at an arm’s length, staying just close enough to get his job done and nothing more.
Sawyer has called me several times. Wanting to hook up with his favorite rose. Listening to his messages in a sober state makes me gag and question my sanity for putting up with him in the first place. I think it’s time to sever our friendship once and for all, so I’ve not returned any of his calls. I’ve also told the agency that I will no longer pose with him in ad shoots and they have no problem with it as long as I agree to stay with them.
Men have hurt me all of my life and, sadly, I openly let them. I’m miserable with or without their added hurts and I’m starting to realize just how tired of it all I truly am. Julia Thorton is tired of pretending to be Julia Rose. The make-believe is no healthier than the reality. Each night I pull out my journal and reread the Bible verse Greyson shared with me. I feel the words resonating in me. I go to bed in tears over not knowing how to let go of my burdens.
Tonight as I reread the verse, I finally pick up a pen and let some of it pour out on the page.
I have an addiction. Yes. I admit it. But not with what anyone suspects. I’m addicted to pain. Pain from men using me and breaking my heart. Pain caused by substance abuse. And pain from my anorexia. I thrive off the stomach ache I live with on a daily basis. I know how to eliminate the pain in my stomach but I hold on to it for dear life so that it out-hurts the pain of my soul. I’m not addicted to the highs caused by drugs. They aren’t even close to what they are cracked up to be. No. I’m addicted to all the hurts that accompany me in the aftermath of the high.
I had a pain take up residence in me before my sixteenth birthday. This was the age I had my first heartbreak. Evan Grey was twenty-two, and I was on the cusp of sweet sixteen. I was in love and felt so lucky to have found the love of my life so young. Naïve was I. Oh how naïve. I thought I had found someone who adored me as much as my dad adored my mother. That man worshiped her and I was so jealous of it. Evan showed up and lavished me with attention I was so starved for and I became addicted to him. I was so blind that I didn’t see the reality. I was too consumed with looking through my rose-colored glasses until it hurt too much to keep my eyes open.
One night in early May of that year, I snuck out of my house and met Evan at his beach cottage. We made out and it was great until I refused to have sex with him. I earned my first bruise from him that night, and it continued for almost two months with no one noticing. I was guilty for not noticing things as well. I never saw past my own pain to realize Evan was hurting my younger sister Savannah too. My first love also ended up being mine and my sister’s rapist.
I will always carry the guilt of it. If I had given into him that night and had sex, would it have saved my sister? Some days I feel nothing could ever have been enough to fulfill his sickness, but most days my conscience says different. Could I have prevented her from being raped? Guilt. So much guilt.
In all of one horrific night, Evan stripped away my innocence and left behind a sharp stinging pain. And no matter what I do, I cannot get rid of it. So I focus on other pains to cope. Being around Greyson has always taken away some of my surface pains and leaves me raw and exposed to the deeper darker pains. I don’t know how to handle that so I always lash out at him in defense and push him away.
I need Greyson and miss him terribly. He’s my only friend and I feel so alone. The void he fills is consuming me again. I know he’s okay so that makes me feel a bit better. I snuck his p
hone one night and sent his mom’s contact information to my phone. It was a night he wasn’t looking too good and I had toyed with the idea of calling Barbara. I’m glad I swiped her contact now because I’m able to call and keep a check on Greyson. She’s reassured me he’s doing great and is about to eat her out of house and home. It sounded like that made her so happy. I called back last week and begged her to tell me what he had been through while he had disappeared.
“Sweetheart, that is a question only Greyson can answer,” she said sadly.
Now that I’m at a distance, things are clicking into place and making more sense. I’ve pretty much figured out where he went and, more importantly, why. And it doesn’t make me feel any better about the situation.
Chapter Thirteen
Greyson
Life is good! Today I officially became a fly fisherman. Man, did it feel incredible too. I even had the full-on fisherman’s uniform with hip waders, a fishing vest, and boonie brimmed hat. I paid the guide for the fishing license and a day’s worth of fishing excursion. And it was prosperous.
This fishing spot in itself was simply amazing. We waded through this crystal clear stream that was lined on the bottom as well as surrounded with smooth river stones. We were cocooned in a canopy of ancient trees and the day’s peaceful silence was only interrupted with the hushed rushing of the water and the occasional bird calling out. I felt like I was dropped in the middle of a forest in heaven. The guide and I fished at a respectable distance for several hours with me catching twenty-three good-sized trout. As per the fisherman’s rule, I only kept six that I planned on eating and released the rest back to their water home.
I dropped off three trout to this guy named Eric who’s down on his luck at the moment. He’s living at this campground in West Virginia for the time being. The poor guy admitted over a hike a few days back that he made some bad choices and lost his home, but more importantly, his wife left him and took the children. He’s not seen them in over a year. Man that really bums me out. He says he regrets it all and I doubt him none. Eric seems to need someone to talk to without judgment so that’s what I’ve done. I always pray with him before we part ways though. It’s the most important thing I can do for him right now.
I spend a lot of time meditating and in prayer. My Bible verse for the day is John 16:33 - I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.
I wrote this and left it with the trout in Eric’s fridge before I came back to my camper. It’s a great verse and I know a certain girl that could learn a thing or two from it. If she wasn’t so stubborn…
I put away my journal and check on my tinfoil packets of trout that are sitting beside packets of vegetables on the fire pit grate. The heat of the day is starting to subside as the sun sets. I stack a packet of each on my blue enamel plate and sit back to enjoy. I moan with the first bite of the flaky fish. Everything tastes so good nowadays. My taste buds have reawakened in the last few weeks with a vengeance and I plan to not take this simple pleasure for granted ever again. I finish one round and go for the second while thinking back over the last little bit.
The visit with my parents ended up being stretched more than two weeks, because I was enjoying the company of my parents and church family too much. I came close to ditching the rest of this trip and just staying put. But my old man reminded me that we don’t know what the next day may hold and I would regret not following through with the rest of my trip. He’s right. Now that I’m back on course, there’s no doubt that I’m right where I need to be. No doubt about it either, West Virginia is a great state. I think I must have some mountain man in my blood.
More good news—I’ve packed on a whopping twenty pounds since I started this trip over two months ago and it feels great. I don’t feel like a puny punk any longer. I’m feeling more like a strong man again. This is something else I never plan on taking for granted ever again.
I’m sitting here by the fire contemplating eating the last fish when a cab pulls up to my site. The most gorgeous girl I have ever laid eyes on exits in a short skimpy dress and high heels that make those mile long legs look even more endless. My mouth goes dry at the sight of her.
She lugs a huge suitcase and tote bag over and stands before me as though I should be expecting her. And I didn’t realize until this very moment that it’s exactly what I’ve been expecting for the last month. I might have prayed for it a few times in a moment of weakness, if I’m going to be completely honest.
“Hey,” Julia whispers, looking a bit unsure.
“Hi,” I say back as I continue to check her out. All of that lovely blonde hair is dancing around in the breeze. Man I hate to admit how much I missed this chick. She’s going to be my undoing, if I’m not careful.
“Nice hat.”
I tip the edge of it. “I’m a fly fisherman.” I nod towards my plate. “I caught my own supper.”
She smirks. “That’s manly, Stone.”
“Yep,” I agree as I continue to watch her. She’s fidgeting and those hands have a slight tremble.
“Look… I know you didn’t plan on me crashing your road trip, but…” Julia pauses nervously. “Honey, I feel like I’ve just got to be here. Like it’s a trip we both need to see to the end.”
I glance at her shoes and raise my eyebrow skeptically. “In stilettos no less.”
“I came straight here after a meeting with Leeza. I told her I needed the rest of the year off. I didn’t want to chance missing you. Your mom wasn’t sure how long you planned on staying in West Virginia.”
“I see.” I look over at the parked cab. “What’s with that?” I nod towards it.
“I asked him to wait in case you wouldn’t let me stay.”
A chuckle slips out of me at this statement. I’ve never seen Miss Princess not sure of herself. “You can tell him it’s okay to leave.”
“Are you sure?” Julia’s looking at me hopefully.
“Yep,” I agree reluctantly.
Julia heads over and dismisses the driver. I set down my plate and go retrieve her camping chair from the side compartment and set it up beside mine. She kicks her heels off and joins me. After she is settled in her chair, I lay the law down to her.
“I can’t go through another repeat of Pennsylvania—” I begin, but she cuts me off.
“I’m so sorry for that. I promise. Never again,” she agrees too quickly, nodding her head adamantly.
“If it even seems that might happen again, I’m going to have to ask you to head back to New York.” Julia keeps nodding her head in agreement. “I’m serious,” I tell her sternly.
“I know. That was unacceptable, Greyson. You have no idea how much I’ve beat myself up for letting that happen to you.”
“No. I’m talking about the part with you. You can’t spiral on me like that again. You have a bad day, you have to agree to talk to me about it and not run away from it or drown it in a bottle of liquor.” Julia bows her head and all that lovely hair falls forward. I reach over and brush it back so I can look at her.
“Next order of business is you’re eating supper with me. Can you handle that?”
“I don’t want to swipe your supper,” Julia says hesitantly. She’s not getting out of this. It’s a test to see if she is truly game on doing things my way from here on out.
I toss the empty packets in the trash and slide the last packet of trout and vegetables on my plate. “No worries. I’ve already eaten two fish and a pile of vegetables. I’m stuffed,” I lie. I could totally eat that third fish, but I need to know she’s serious. I hand it over to her and she surprises me by taking it and actually eating a bite of fish.
“It’s good,” she says before taking another small bite.
As she nibbles, I lay down the next rule.
“No more running on this trip.” I thought she was going to appease me and agree to everything, but I was dead wrong. The Julia I know flares up at this
rule.
She nearly spits the fish out. “What? Now that’s just ridiculous. I need to exercise.” She’s waving those prissy hands around as though to swat away my request. Well, I’m not relenting.
“You’re overdoing it. It’s time you give your body a rest. I promise you will get plenty of natural exercise.”
“Natural exercise?” she asks harshly. This rule is rubbing her wrong.
“Yes. Hiking, canoeing, white water rafting and some other fun stuff. And you’ll be happy to know that I booked campgrounds with swimming pools from here on out so you can swim to your little heart’s desire.” She’s still shaking her head. “It won’t hurt you to change things up a bit. Just give it a try. Okay?” I let her be for a few minutes before I continue. “It’s either you agree to do this my way or you can’t come along. I really can’t deal with all the drama we had back at the beginning of this trip. It wasn’t healthy for either one of us.”
“Okay,” she finally agrees.
This chick has been back not even ten minutes and I’m already full of anxiety. I take my hat off and rub my head in frustration.
“Honey! Your hair has grown back,” Julia squeals out, startling me.
She sits her plate down and hops in my lap. She’s got that beautiful smile on her face as she runs her fingers through my hair that’s barely long enough. It’s coming back in but it’s still severely short. My brain turns to mush as she works those dainty fingers along my scalp. And I think I accidently drool.
“It’s come back in darker,” she comments as she keeps massaging through my hair.
“The sun just hasn’t gotten ahold of it yet,” I slur out on a moan. It’s all I can do to hold my eyes open. I allow myself to enjoy this for a little while longer, but come to my senses. I ease her off my lap and stand up before I start enjoying this too much. Clearing my throat, I ask, “You want a water to go with your supper?”