Page 119 of Notorious

Though maybe they’re not lies. Maybe I deserved all of it. Maybe I asked for it when I said yes to that first producer back when I was eighteen.

Kurt murmurs quiet words, but I barely hear him.

He drives us home. I don’t remember the ride.

He makes dinner, but I don’t eat. He doesn’t even let me go to the bathroom alone.

He holds me all Friday night. We don’t talk much. There’s nothing to say.

On Saturday, we stay in bed most of the morning, only going outside in sweats to walk Lady around the neighborhood.

“Are you still spiraling?” Kurt asks.

I don’t say anything. Eventually, I nod.

“Do you want to go to the hospital?”

I shake my head. Because what are they gonna do? They can’t fix this. “Just stay with me,” I whisper.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he says fervently.

I wish I could feel the squeeze in my heart his words usually give me.

Right now, though, I’m worse than numb.

I’m negative. I’m nothing. I’m radio static. I don’t exist.

On Sunday, we lounge around watching television. I’m not even sure what show Kurt put on. We take Lady for a walk, and her velvet ears do get to me a little. As does her sweet puppy scent. When we get back, Kurt says, “Are you gonna be okay if I take a shower? Or do you want to come in with me?”

While I wanna tell him I’ll be okay, I know that’s not true, so I get in the shower with him. He washes me carefully, his hands caressing me everywhere. And while it feels good, it doesn’t stop the intrusive thoughts running around my head.

I can’t stand this.

I don’t want to be here anymore. I can’t do this.

I want to rip out my hair.

I want to be gone.

I take a deep breath.

“It’s fucking hard, Kurt. Things had been getting better, the thoughts were quieter, but now they’re shouting.”

He nods, his eyes soft and sad. He kisses me, and I kind of kiss him back. His presence is keeping me from fully drowning.

We get out of the shower, dry off, and get dressed and return to the couch. Kurt’s mom calls, and he answers, checking in with how she’s feeling post-surgery.

While he talks with her, I go into the kitchen.

The keys have to be around here somewhere. Kurt said not to go looking for them, but he didn’t say that they’d be particularly hard to find.

I start opening drawers like I’m looking for a spatula or something, but I don’t find any keys.

Then I remember the day we first got here. When he came back from hiding my gun, he’d been going up and down the stairs.

I grab the BMW key and go out to the garage while Kurt’s got his back to me, listening to his mom. I beep the locks open and open up the console in the middle, but there’s nothing in there except a few quarters and some lip balm. I look in the glove compartment and take out the manual and Kurt’s sunglasses. Nothing. Then I check the pockets behind the seats. And there I find a set of small keys.

My heart is pounding. Hands shaking, I hastily put everything back to rights.

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