Page 13 of Angels Fall

“Okay,” I say, resigned to my fate. “I’ll be here.”

He nods, and I take that as my cue to leave. But just as I turn to walk out, he says, “Hey, Maddie?”

Just hearing my actual name in this place makes it all real. “What?” I answer, my focus on getting the hell out of this office as quick as possible.

“Be careful.”

No shit. “Yeah,” I say. “I’ll figure it out.” And then I leave and pull his door closed behind me so he can’t say anything else.

It hits me then—I have no car. And I mean that literally because I’m pretty sure it got stolen the other night along with my purse.

So I go to the bartender—I’ve met him a few times when the regular weekend guy had the night off—and say, “Can you call me a cab?”

“Sure,” he says.

“And can I borrow a hundred bucks to pay for it?”

He laughs. “What the fuck?”

“My purse got stolen,” I say, confident that’s not a lie, but not really caring much. “I’ll pay you back tomorrow. I’m the new morning girl,” I say, nodding up at Charlotte, who is just kinda leaning against the pole on stage, like she forgot where she was.

It takes a few more promises to get that money, but I do get it. And then I go outside and wait in the glaring sun for the cab. Feeling dirty. Like I lost my soul this morning. Like I might never find it again, even if I do manage to drag myself up out of this hole I’m still digging.

And then… everything hits me. Tyler. Halloween. Scotty. That last letter I sent, practically begging him to answer me. And how he broke my heart when he sent it back unopened with that message.

“Please stop sending me letters.” I say it out loud, just to keep it fresh. Just to keep the memory of us the other night where it’s supposed to be. Tucked away in a mental box that says do not open.

Do not talk to him. Do not trust him. Do not fall for him. Do not ever let that man back into your life.

But the tears come anyway. Because there was a time when I loved Tyler Morgan. When I thought he was the only person who could ever make things right again.

And that last night we were together… I felt that again. I felt that connection I once had with him. Before Scotty died. Before he took off and never came back. Before he started making promises he never intended to keep.

And yeah, it was a stupid childhood crush on my brother’s best friend. But… I loved him once.

I won’t make that mistake again.

When I get home the girls are all awake, looking red-eyed and beat. Annie spends ten minutes asking me, “What the fuck? Just what the fuck?” because apparently I’ve been gone for almost three days.

But I’m too sad, and defeated, and ashamed of what I’ve become to even bother listening.

So I offer them a teary shrug and walk away. Lock myself in my room. Fall onto my bed. And cry myself to sleep.

Chapter Four - Tyler

“No, I feel great! Why?” That’s me, answering Dr. Eldridge, my shrink, who just asked, “Are you nervous?”

We’re sitting by the pool at Evan and Robert’s house. Normally I go see Dr. Eldridge at her place, but Evan’s been hovering over me like a watchful mother hen since I got out of the hospital a couple of nights ago. He’s making me stay with him and Robert for now. Making me. That sounds so… Nobody makes Tyler Morgan do shit Tyler Morgan don’t wanna do!

But… I do need a place to stay while they repair my apartment, which is gonna take a while, and Evan’s all worried that I’m gonna do something else “bat-the-fuck-shit-crazy,” as he called it. So…

(I’m still not a hundred percent sure that the Mandarin Oriental isn’t going to try to bring arson charges against me. Evan kinda managed to… tweak… the fire inspector’s official report, and I did offer to pay for the damages out of pocket so we don’t have to fuck around with the insurance company, but the management people at the corporate office I talked with were real bitches about it. People can be such fucking babies.)

So anyway. Dr. Eldridge agreed to come see me here at Evan and Robert’s because Robert asked her to, and he’s super-charming and shit. But right now, I just want to get this little session with the good doctor over with. I’ve got some serious amends-making to get to. So when she asks, “Are you nervous?” I do my best to put on a face that lets her know I’m not.

“No, I feel great! Why?”

“Because,” she says, “your knee has been bouncing for the whole session and I’m worried that you’re going to start biting your fingertip off. The nail seems just about gone.”