Testing Recipes for Disaster (Emberwood #2)

Chapter 39- Lauren

H ow had the best day I could remember having in forever turned into this ? I held it together until I heard him leave, but all the embarrassment and anger forced its way out in sobs as soon as I let the walls down.

He had shown up and helped patch up all the cracks in my life. I felt taken care of, and like I could be myself even when I knew I was being a little crazy. And things were so good.

Yeah, for you.

And I let him do it without even questioning if I was there for him in the same way.

I searched for the definition of a narcissist because I was pretty sure that’s what I was. It was completely screwed up that I would let this happen and make everything about me. I didn’t feel like that definition quite fit, but I did look up selfishness as an ADHD symptom, and that was an eye-opening experience. It was hard to decide if I felt better or worse that my brain made self-centered my default mode.

What the fuck are you going to do now?

I wanted to shout at the stupid voice in my head that I didn’t know . Because thinking about giving Jeremy up had my stomach in my throat. I’d never, never felt like this about anyone. But for that exact reason, I felt like maybe I should distance myself so he could properly assess how my issues had screwed up his life. He was too wrapped up in me, the same way that I was with him, to see clearly. Because if he could think rationally about the situation, he would be mad at me.

The even more screwed up thing was that I knew he was sitting at home worried about me. Because that’s who he was. He should be worried about himself.

Damn it!

I was not the person you trusted to make the difficult, grown-up decisions. I thought about texting Sam, or even Jesse, since he’d be able to give a better perspective on Jer. But I couldn’t quite face them yet. If I thought being told off by Charlie was humiliating, this was a different level of hell, knowing that I cost my boyfriend his job.

You could go talk to the bakery owner and explain the supreme douche-baggery that was Charlie’s behavior.

As much as that would make me feel better, I had the feeling it would not help the overall situation. Having a random job applicant’s girlfriend come and confront you would probably be off-putting to some people.

I had to get out of this room.

As soon as I left, I was, of course, faced with the almost-finished purple wall that was quickly becoming the symbol of my failures. It was stupid and completely unsafe. But I was determined to fix one fucking thing in my life by myself.I said a quick prayer to whatever archangels gave protection that I would not fall off this ladder, and I put the second coat on that damn wall.

When I stepped off the ladder for the last time, the new color now fully covering the old, I thanked the universe and cleaned up all my painting supplies.

These meds really are as close to magic as anything I’ve ever encountered . Though, I’d never tell Sam or Zin that.

I sank into my couch, my muscles angry at the repetitive roller motion I’d been doing most of the day. I went searching for inspiration on what I could now do to the purple wall to add interest. Was I avoiding having any productive thoughts about me and Jer? Yes. Did I come up with some awesome ideas for a wall covered in mixed-metal spray-painted animal figurines? Also, yes.

I may have eaten four Pop-Tarts for dinner and gone to bed still with paint in my hair, but at that point, what did it matter?

IT WAS AN UNGODLY HOUR when I woke up to someone knocking incessantly on my front door. When my heart rate went sky high, I had to remind myself that murderers didn’t usually knock. I grabbed my phone, saw eight missed calls from Sam, and expertly deduced that she was likely the person trying to wake up my entire complex. I texted first so she would be quiet, and I could put on actual clothing. At least that stopped the pounding. When I finally wrenched open the door, she was practically on top of me.

“You can’t ignore my messages for like a year. I thought you had been kidnapped by someone in a van promising discounted vintage clothing or something.”

“I’m sorry. I needed to reboot last night.”

She stopped then, her shoulders relaxing as she took me in. Her long hair was in a haphazard bun on her head, and she looked like she might be wearing the clothes she slept in.

“I know. I talked to Jer.”

“Oh, god. I don’t even want to know how that conversation went.”

“It didn’t go anywhere. He told me you were safe and un-kidnapped, but the rest was yours to tell.”

I nodded, willing yesterday’s tears to stay in the past.

“And I will. Tell you. But not right now. I’ve gotta make it through a full day of clients, and you are getting married next weekend. You have many other things to think about.”

I didn’t even have to force the smile I gave her when her face brightened automatically.

“I am. But that doesn’t mean you can’t tell me what’s going on.”

“I know. Really, I do. And I will spill my guts to you, but if I start now, I won’t stop. And I have to function.”

“Okay. I guess I accept your reasoning. Oh, and speaking of functioning.” She reached into the pocket of her sweats and pulled out a crystal. “Carnelian for creativity. For your prescription bottle.”

I took it happily and hugged her.

“I will say that it didn’t seem to dampen my creativity at all, just focused it. Check out my finished wall!” I gestured toward my masterpiece.

“Oh my god! I’d gotten so used to the in-progress look. This is great. Have you figured out what you’re hanging there yet?”

“Of course. It’ll be a project for after the wedding.”

“Okay. Well, if you need to get out of your house at any point in the next week, Zin and I are working on centerpieces, favors, and, eventually, floral arrangements with every spare moment.”

“Count me in.”

She hugged me again and agreed to leave me to finish waking up in peace. Now I had to do the absolute last thing I wanted to do before getting ready for work.