Why?

XI

August 1998
The flight was long and lonesome. I slipped in and out of sleep after spending a considerable amount of time leaning over the toilet, where I was unable to stop myself vomiting, wracking with sobs as I did so. I'd never fared well with nausea, especially after my years of substance abuse; where I'd seen friends close to death, wretching over a sink. Upon arrival I made it into the Black SUV waiting for me, and the driver helped me wheel my suitcases to the porch of the house. It was two-stored, white, and held up by wooden pillars, providing a view far away from any other residence.
The ornate front windows were North-facing, and the house itself was surrounded by trees that continued far up the mountains behind- and it was even better than I had imagined. This was the house I had recently purchased discreetly, planning on it being a birthday surprise for Lindsey, as a place we could escape to for vacation. I felt ridiculous as I considered I'd even assumed we could be in a stable, long-term relationship, as permanent as something like a house.
I barely even recognised myself in the mirror that faced the front door: red puffy eyes, dark circles, hair in a messy ponytail. I shrugged it off, barely caring anymore, and dragged one of my suitcases up the polished wooden stairs. I opened the door of the closest bedroom, and flung the suitcase on the floor, took out my nightgown, and changed into it before throwing myself onto the covers and using one of the fluffy, white pillows to muffle my pained screams. Once again, the sleep was patchy.  Several times I would wake up still feeling exhausted, and allow myself to sleep for longer. When I finally got up, it was around midday, and I found Karen surrounded by papers near the telephone.
"Stevie! You're awake! What on earth happened? Where's Lindsey?"
"He's in LA I'd expect." I stalked away, searching for the coffee.
"But..." She followed.
"I think...I found...He was in the kitchen getting..." I took a deep breath, unsure whether I should give Karen such details.
"Stevie you can tell me, after all that we've been through, you really think I'm going to judge you for the details?"
"Kristen had his fvcking dick in her mouth," I spat, Karen aware my vitriol wasn't directed at her.
"God I...I really didn't expect this from him."
"Well he sure sounded like he was enjoying it."
"I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault."
"What about the concerts though Stevie? I've already had to cancel tonight's."
"I don't care about them, I need to get away. To stay away from...Everything."
"Well, as far as the promoters are concerned, you're sick."
"That's fine with me. I mean I might as well be, I spent half the flight puking my guts out and I still feel like hell."