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I sniffle and swallow a big gulp. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” is all I’m able to say. “I-I fucked up. I need you.”
I hear commotion on the other end of the line and a door shutting. “I’m coming. Stay put.”
I don’t know how long passes, but I stay in the bathroom, head in between my knees, fighting the tremors that rack my body, skin sticky with sweat, until I hear a deep voice on the other side of the door, followed by a knock.
“Aria, are you in there?”
I lift my head, wiping the tears off my face. “Yes,” I croak.
The door opens—and Dion is here, his tall figure towering over me.
He kneels. “Astéri mou. What have you done?” His tone is soft. It’s not reprimanding or judging. He’s worried, concerned. My heart swells.
I allow myself to truly absorb him. The sight of him gives me an overwhelming sense of peace, and an equally immense feeling of sadness.
At Evander and Angelica’s courthouse wedding, I didn’t allow myself to really look at him, not able to face the pain of being without him just yet. The realization of how much I have missed him sweeps over me like a current.
Without another word, Dion swoops me into his arms and carries me out.
Instead of walking through the crowd, he takes me through a back door that leads to a parking lot where his car sits idle, his driver waiting for us.
He gently sets me down in the back seat and hops in after me.
I curl into a ball next to him. He caresses my hair, though I sense his hesitation when he speaks.
“What did you take?”
“How do you know I took anything?”
“Your eyes. They’re red and glossy, and your pupils are dilated.”
I release a trembling sigh. “Coke,” I reply, heart racing.
He lets out a breath. “Is it the first time?”
I shake my head.
“Why, Aria?”
A knot forms in my stomach. I contemplate telling him the truth. But what if he sees me differently?
I sit up, moving away from him, and my head spins again, causing me to sway. Suddenly, I begin to sweat, at the same time shivering from the cold. Dion grabs onto my arms to steady me.
“Do you need some air?”
I nod.
He tells his driver to pull over and helps me out of the car.
I have no idea where we are, but I sit down on the edge of the sidewalk, clutching my head. I need to sober up. Dion sits next to me.
“Who knows about this?”
He pulls out a pack of smokes, tapping one out to hand to me. “You look like you could use this,” he says softly. I take the cigarette with a shaky hand, and he lights the tip for me. I try to give him a small smile.
“No one knows,” I finally respond. It’s terrifying to think about exposing my shameful secret to someone right now. Especially to Dion.
I take a drag, smoke curling around my fingers, and exhale slowly, my shoulders relaxing just a bit.
