The Tragic Life

Chapter 23

WARNING: CHAPTERS 32 - 36 OF THIS BOOK CAN ONLY BE READ ON INKITT! LINK IN MY BIO ♥️
...

I book the next four days off work to look after Jamie, worried that he hasn't got out of bed once unless to use the toilet. I try everything to get him up, but it doesn't work. If he's not crying, he's sleeping. It's utterly heartbreaking.

Maggie is here with me, trying her best to get more than two words out of him. I called her on Monday afternoon to let her know about his downward spiral, and she hasn't left here since. It's hard to leave them alone when she asks for a quiet minute alone, but I do by busying myself with the healthy chocolate brownies I'm making him.

Some good food might help.

Or at least, I'm hoping it does.

I boil the kettle water first so the sweet potatoes cook quicker before measuring out the other ingredients, and dragging out the food processor from the back of the cupboard. It's a Deliciously Ella recipe, and totally guilt-free.

The house seems strange without Emily, but she's currently on a day trip to the park with Robbie and the kids. It's probably best for her to be away, as her crying last night distressed Jamie so much that he locked himself in the bathroom until it stopped.

It feels as if I'm slowly losing him.

"Smells good in here, huh, Jay?" Maggie says fifteen minutes later, keeping her arm around his shoulders when he slumps his way in here.

It's like I'm looking at a zombie.

I hesitate when they come to a halt by the fridge. "Are you both hungry? It's lunchtime. I could make sandwiches?"

Maggie tucks some of Jamie's hair behind his ear, and it's like he doesn't even notice. "I could eat. How about you, honey? You hungry yet?"

Jamie's bloodshot eyes barely lift from the floor. "I'll eat it if Molly makes it."

It's silly really, that those few words give me so much hope. He's still in there somewhere. Fighting through the black fog with me standing at the front of it with my white cloth in the air. Stay with me.

"That's more like it," Maggie says in a soothing tone, eyes running over the mess I made on the kitchen counters. "Why don't you two go get comfortable in the living room while I tidy up, then Moll can tackle the sandwiches."

Jamie is keeping his head down.

I head over to him so I can link our fingers together. "There's a new series of RuPaul's Drag Race on if you fancy watching it?"

"Sure," he says, sounding like he just smoked two hundred cigarettes.

There's already three blankets on the couch when Jamie throws himself down, letting me cocoon him with pillows resting behind his head. It's progress to have him out of bed, but I don't want to overwhelm him, so I figure that making a makeshift bed down here will help to calm his nerves.

His broken eyes watch my every move. "You need to hide anything sharp from me."

The soft cotton blanket falls from my fingers. "Sorry?"

"I'm getting some pretty dark thoughts. I don't want to risk it if I slip down further into this trap," he replies, so matter of fact.

"I...I'll go move them then," I whisper back.

Do I throw them? Lock them in the safe I can never remember the code for? Maybe the shed is a good place considering he's not willing to go outside.

"Meds too," he says on an uncomfortable growl. "Hell, lock me away as well."

I walk to the arm of the couch where the top of his head rests to thread my fingers in his hair. "Then you won't be able to taste my out of this world brownies."