Only One I Call Home

Chapter 20 - "We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking..."

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”

-       Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere’s Fan

Chapter 20

“So, when are you planning on popping the question?” I asked Rob.

Tully and Amelia had just left to go and get dinner. They’d hit it off really well which was good, it gave Rob and I time to catch up. I liked Amelia. She and Rob were great together. I wished that things had worked out like that for Trey and I. But looking at how happy they were together, I knew we’d never get there.

He shrugged. “I don’t want to plan it. I just figured one day we’d just get stuck in the moment and I’d just, do it.”

I rolled my eyes but smiled kindly. “Things are always better when they’re not planned, trust me. Have you dropped many hints?”

He sighed. “I’ve tried not to, I sort of want it to be a spontaneous surprise.”

I nodded. “She’ll be thrilled. She really loves you, I can tell.”

He scoffed. “God, I should hope so.”

“I’m really happy for you, Rob. It’s great that you’ve found happiness.” I told him. “Really.”

He waved it away. “You’ll find it too. Maybe it’ll be with Trey…maybe it won’t. You’ll see. So how do you feel about going back inside tomorrow? Give your friend the grand tour? There’s someone in there I’m sure you’d be thrilled to see.”

“Who?” I frowned. “I don’t know anyone around here.”

He chuckled. “You know a couple of people.”

I groaned. “That place is so dull though, I don’t know if I want to.”

“It might help you. Going back in, visiting your sleeping quarters, my office…it might bring back some helpful memories.” He smiled gently.

“Maybe. And don’t call it ‘sleeping quarters’ that was a cell man.” I shook my head.

He laughed. “It wasn’t so bad, you had a bed.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. I guess I’ll give it a shot.”

He smiled and gave me a half hug. “So, how is Trey? Last I saw him he was in a terrible place. He was really bad, Laurel.”

“Bad how?” I asked.

He bit his lip. “I didn’t see much of him. He didn’t speak, hardly ate. The psychiatrist labelled him with severe depression. When he got out he was ordered to come back and see her twice a week. He should be taking some heavy medication. Should I go on?”

“It gets worse?” I whispered.

He shrugged. “You were doing so much better than him.”

“What happened?”

“Well, at first we thought the grief had just hit him really hard. But it didn’t end. We had him assessed and realised it was more than that. He was harming himself, Laurel, in the worst way. I think he even tried to end it. Then about six months later he moved away and I haven’t heard anything since. I had a very bad feeling about it.” He told me. “I prayed he’d gone to find you, I knew that would help him.”

I let out a long and shaky breath and ran a hand through my brown curls. “God, I was so shit to him. I treated him like nothing, he needs me and I wouldn’t let him in. I had no idea.”