I Always Will

Gorgeous Analysis

Riley

The hospital worker bringing lunch wakes me, and that's when I realize I've dozed off again. Marley is still here, sitting quietly in a chair, reading.

My immediate reaction is annoyance. Row has been gone for hours. But I remind myself that though time is interminable to me at this point, I did tell Row to take hers.

The food technician departs, leaving my food on the tray, after assessing that I am barely awake. When I raise the head of the bed, Marley rises, offering me the bottle of cold herbal tea.

"Thank you." I shake my head as she lifts an eyebrow and the cover on the dish at the same time. "No, thank you. Not now."

It's difficult to suffer all this...help.

I swallow the tea in small sips.

"Row has been gone a long time," I say evenly.

Marley nods, drawing her chair closer. "Does that bother you?"

"Ah. Bodie wasn't joking, when he said the doctor is in," I say grimly.

"You called Row a whore, Riley. I think we should talk about that."

"Can we not? It was...a moment of frustration. I didn't mean it, obviously. She's not a whore." I snort, then add, "She just plays one on tv."

Marley is looking at me with the expression I least like. Privately, I think of it as her Jasmine expression. Bodie loves it when she brings the Jasmine. As her employer, I am less enamored with her sassy side.

"Oh, come on. That was a joke," I insist. "Sense of humor in a time of trouble, all that," I gesture down my form.

"It wasn't funny."

"No, I suppose not."

"Also not funny is the reason why Row isn't here. She has been gone a long time because Bodie took her to an intervention," Marley says.

"An intervention?" My heart rate raises at once.

I thought she was better. She's still so thin, and I'm sure she's drinking too much—who doesn't—but I honestly thought she was off the diet pills. She was well off them before I filed for divorce. That was seven months ago, and I've had no oversight of her lifestyle since then. Seven months is a long time, and she went back to bloody New Zealand and the goddamn show. In fact, she's only been back in LA less than a month. Did the producers get her hooked again? Or is the problem worse than diet pills now?

I adjust the bed straight up, ignoring the excruciating pressure on my back. "Diet pills or something worse?"

I rub my eyes, reaching for my glasses on the nightstand, cleaning them on the sheets. One of the lenses is shattered, but I'll need one good eye if I'm going to look at my phone. And if Row is going to rehab, it's a problem that has to be managed, and unfortunately that still falls to me. For better or worse, she has not chosen another manager. Which means, all tthe show's producers still direct whatever concerns that might have with her contract to me. Her parents know nothing of that aspect of her life.

"It's not that kind of intervention," Marley says. "It's a relationship intervention."

I stare at Marley blankly, pulling off my glasses. "Relationship intervention?"

She nods.

"You mean, her family doesn't believe she should be here, with me, through this."

"That's right."

"Well, that doesn't surprise me. Bodie...that surprises me."

"The plan wasn't for Bodie to go. The plan was for me to take her. My very devious husband outplayed me. I suppose he thought I was more useful here, than there."