Page 69 of A Totally Platonic Thing
Home. Like it would be a home without Chris in it. A cardboard box would be home with him there, but our apartment? Yeah, that was going to feel like a museum, and not in a good way. Like something abandoned, a display of the past that I’d be afraid to touch.
But no point in putting it off. Besides, where else did I really have to go? I’d be swaying on my feet once I stopped leaning on the wall, and driving was pushing it. If I waited, I’d pass out behind the wheel.
I barely made it home, and when I pulled up the parking brake I just sat there for a minute, unable to muster the energy or the will to get out of the car. Chris’s usual spot sat empty. Aidan must have come and collected Chris and Sebastian, since I knew Aidan had meant to drop Sebastian off the night before.
Unless I was wrong and Chris and Sebastian were still up there.
Like a coward, I chose to text Aidan and ask.
A second later, I got confirmation that they’d all been and gone. I didn’t have any more excuses.
The apartment felt like it’d been deserted for weeks rather than a few minutes, despite the smell of freshly-brewed coffee, the steaminess of the bathroom, and the open window letting in a warm breeze.
I didn’t bother with the coffee, or the bathroom, or anything else.
I stripped my clothes and threw them on the floor, crawled into my bed, and put a pillow over my head.
As I passed out, my last thought was wishing Chris would be there when I woke up.
Chapter Sixteen
Chris
Maybe this made me an idiot, but it hadn’t dawned on me how much I depended on Lucas every day until I didn’t have him anymore.
And not even “depended on” as in “needed to do things for me.” Honestly, I’d done more actual physical tasks for him than he’d done for me, on balance. I’d done more of our laundry, more of our cooking, and even more of the dishes, mostly because I cleaned while I cooked and usually got done with both before Lucas got home to help me—which he totally would’ve, but I didn’t give him the chance.
Of course, he’d picked me up drunk more times than anyone should’ve had to. And that was something I’d never stop feeling guilty for.
But mostly, I’d depended on him to always be there, plain and simple. I never needed to be lonely. I never needed to wonder if anyone would want to spend the evening with me, or eat dinner with me, or be happy to see me if I dropped by in the middle of the day.
I’d always been welcome, wherever and whenever. If Lucas was there, he wanted me there too.
And I was pretty sure the clubbing and drinking too much would’ve been a brief coping mechanism if Lucas hadn’t been dating Emma (Emily? I couldn’t remember because I didn’t want to, I’d realized). He hadn’t been around as much.
Maybe I might have been a little bit (totally, unbearably, but whatever) jealous, too. By the time they broke up, it’d become more of a habit, my way of avoiding how I felt, and part of me didn’t want to risk spending so much time with him again because I knew he’d find another girlfriend and I’d be his second priority.
At least, that was what the counselor I’d gone to, all hungover and miserable, had helped me see after a few sessions.
It’d been three weeks now, and he’d kind of turned my head upside down, shaken it out, and then let me figure out how to put everything back together again.
“Do you think your parents choosing to move somewhere you can’t visit them without suffering a crippling allergic reaction has made you more sensitive to being abandoned?” was a question I’d particularly enjoyed.
Ditto, “Did you feel like you had to do more than your share of the housework or your roommate wouldn’t want you to stay there?”
Of course, neither of those had been as much fun as, “Do you think you’ve become dependent on the attention you get when you’re drinking heavily in an environment with lowered inhibitions?”
I came back to Sebastian and Aidan’s place after that third session with my head hurting and my stomach all tight and tense. I found Aidan sprawled on the couch. He was scrolling his phone with an episode ofStargateplaying in the background on the giant TV Sebastian had upgraded to from his little one because it made Aidan happy. True love. It made me grumpy.
He looked up and smiled. “Hey. How’d it go?”
I dropped my bag, rolled my eyes, and flumped down on the other end of the couch, Aidan obligingly moving his feet to make room for me. “Apparently I’m a binge-drinking attention whore, so there’s that,” I said, maybe a little more crankily than Aidan deserved.
His smile widened, which pissed me off—and I probably did deserve it, to be fair.
“I could’ve told you that, dude. I might’ve put it a little nicer than that, though. You drink too much too fast when there’s lots of people around. I mean, it’s not exactly about the booze, you know? You want to be wanted. I used to have to go get my mom from the bar. She’d be shitfaced by like five in the afternoon, and she wasn’t even talking to anyone. Unless you count telling the bartender how many shots to pour. That’s an alcohol problem.”
Well, that fucking sucked. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, not knowing what else to say. “No wonder you’re so good at your job. Oh, shit, that came out wrong!”
