Chapter 35

He slept with me last night and the night before. We were naked both nights, but not intimate. He spooned me and whispered, “You’re going to get through this. I’m here for you. I’m your best friend and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise me that.”

“I promise.”

Now, if I can only believe him.

* * * *

Since Mr. Friday’s fatal car accident on the Fourth of July, Mitchell has taken care of me. I’ve been eating and bathing because of him. He’s the one who’s been putting Valium next to my bed with a glass of Merlot, saying before I fall to sleep, “When you’re ready to take this, I’ll help you.” He feeds me a codeine-based drug called Numerox to balance my nerves. He serves me toast, eggs, and Bloody Marys. He’s been dressing me in the mornings and reading the newspaper to me over lunch. In the evening, he reads The Travelerby John Twelve Hawks to me, even though I’m not listening. If Mitchell had not been at my side during the last four days, I’d probably curl up and die.