Page 67 of Never To Suffer

“Salut, Pixie. Ça va? Look, I’m supposed to say I’m sorry. Marie already yelled at me, but you’re an adult. I don’t want to lie to you. I knew it was your birthday, and I didn’t call. I made that choice. I, uhm, I figured you didn’t want me to, and I wanted to respect your decisions. The problem is, now I feel like shit.

Sylvie, I miss you. I’m going to put this out there. I’m booking a flight, and this time I’m getting on the damn plane. I’ll leave a week from tomorrow, which gives you time to think it over. If you want to see me, I’ll be at the cafe at eight.”

Je t'aime, Pixie. Even if you don’t show. Always.”

I toss the phone on the counter and lean against the sink in time to watch Baggy jump up next to me and beg for love. Or food.

“Yeah, it’s stupid. I’m stupid. I’m screwing this up with both of them, aren’t I?” I rub her ears, and she rumbles, pushing against my hand. “I mean, I’m doing the best I can, aren’t I? No, you’re right, I should have called her, and I should have left him alone. But…shit. Everything has blown up in my face.” My phone buzzes and I’m too quick to snatch it up, only to see it’s neither of the people I’m hoping for.

Kennedy

Coffee this morning?

No, I’m taking my morning calls from home. Be there in a few hours.

Glancing over at the cooking supplies, I wave them off and go back to the couch to answer emails and check my schedule for the week. Before I get to that, though, I close the window with the flight information from Paris to Tokyo, and book my ticket to Paris for a week from today. I send a message to Kennedy to revise all my appointments that week from in person to online or reschedule them. Next, I shoot off an email to Marie to tell her I’ll be in France and give her the dates in case our paths happen to cross.

There’s a buzz from the kitchen, and when I glance over, I can make out the light of my cell phone. I’m sure it’s Kennedy again. Just as I’m about to go back to my emails, it buzzes again, so I walk over to see if it’s anything important.

Political ad junk. As I swipe to delete the message, my phone lights up with an unknown number, and I end up answering it accidentally.

“Uh, hello? Dr. Clay here.”

“THEO! It’s Xander,”he slurs into the phone.

“Xander? What the hell, are you okay?” I thought I’d be upset with him, tell him he could have called or texted, maybe yell a little. But there’s something off about the entire situation. As quickly as my emotions rocketed up to a high from hearing his voice again, they’re now taking my stomach and plummeting down.

“I’m… I fucked up. I’m uhm, I’m sorry about not calling. I don’t… I don’t know where I am. A hotel I think? Fuck. I’m so sorry, I just, I searched for you online and found your office.I tried to call, but it was the weekend, and then I had to beg the shit out of the girl who finally answered. Oh, weird story, I know her—anyhow, I just, uhm?—”

“Xander, take a breath.” The word baby desperately tries to fall out of my mouth, but I don’t want to rock the boat. “Have you been drinking?”

“I’m sorry,”the words crack, followed by a sniffle and sobs.“I’m, uh, shit! Everything’s gone wrong and…and I don’t know what to do. I just—I needed to hear a voice and Beetle didn’t pick up. I don’t know where I am or when he’s coming back. I can’t think straight. I need someone to tell me it’s going to be okay. She hates me. She’s gonna leave me for this.”

“Xander, what happened? What’s—” my voice drops, and without thinking, I go into therapy mode. “Xander, did someone hurt you? Did you meet up with someone while you were there?”

I’ve dealt with awful cases of abuse in my career, but I’ve always found a way to keep my personal opinions out of it, to take a step back and not get pulled down into that darkness. But asking Xander if he slept with someone else and let them use him again becomes a ten-inch serrated dagger I’ve plunged into my own gut and started twisting to see how it would feel.

The silence on the line knocks the wind out of me, and I slide down the cabinets and onto the kitchen floor. I need to keep my head, pull myself out of this and compartmentalize it. I prepared for this, didn’t I?

“Theo, I…I don’t think I…I’m scared,”his words quaver until they break apart into a wail and I listen to him breakdown over the phone.“I’m scared. I don’t know where I am, and he drugged me. Shit! I hear him. He’s back. I need to go! Don’t call this number!”

“Xander? Xander!” I shout into the phone, heart stuck firmly in my throat. “Xander? Hello?”

The call ends and I’m left with silence and questions.

“Good morning, Doctor Theo!” Kennedy’s chipper voice reminds me of nails on a chalkboard this morning, I shouldn’t have come in. “The weirdest thing happened this morning, like right after I texted you about coffee. I answered?—”

“Kennedy, push my clients back. I’m busy and I’m not to be disturbed.” I head for my office, stopping to turn back and add, “If anyone from Japan calls, you interrupt me, understand? Anyone! Otherwise?—”

“You mean, anyone like Xander Maxwell?”

Weird story. I know her.

“Yes!” Wonderful, more questions to race through my mind. Kennedy and Xander are closer in age, but out of the millions of people in Los Angeles, I never thought the two of them would have a history. Before I can ask, the door opens, and my first client comes in.

“Oh, hey Doc. Am I early?”

“Yes, Parker, you’re always early. Excuse me, I need a few minutes to get things in order,” I tell him, and turn back to Kennedy with a whisper. “We need to talk after Parker. Try to reschedule what you can. Interrupt me if Xander calls, or anyone calls about him, understood?”

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