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“Take your fucking pills,” he bellowed. “Or don’t. You know, if you want to kill yourself, just jump off the bridge. It’ll be quicker, and I won’t have to waste my time watching you destroy yourself.”
I sat up on the couch and swallowed the pills with water from the bottle I’d placed there last night. See? I could plan things like a functioning adult. But I hadn’t been into work in a week, becauseadultandfunctioningwere two things I wasn’t good at with a hangover.
“Did I tell you about the fight I watched last year at the Garden?”
“Shut the fuck up,” I yelled loud enough to hurt my head. “I can’t take another one of your stupid stories this morning.”
“Right. One hangover cocktail coming up.” He returned a minute later with a glass of his awful hangover cure. “Drink this or else.”
I took it, because if I didn’t, he’d pour it on my head and it would sting my eyes like a thousand bees. I’d learned that the hard way.
He stood over me. “Down the hatch.”
Holding my nose, I took several large gulps. My nose started to run right after the burning became almost unbearable.
“Has she taken one of your calls yet?” he asked when I handed the glass back.
I shook my head. “Nope.” I’d sent flowers and arranged for her to get a set of the sheets she’d raved about this morning.
“You’re doing this all wrong.”
I snorted. “Look who’s the relationship guru all of a sudden.”
“Ya see, this fight I watched—”
“Get the fuck out of my place with your asinine stories.”
“Fuck you too. Make me.”
Normally I would have been up for that challenge, but not the way I felt this morning. “At least make it quick, and then leave me alone.”
He took the hangover cocktail glass to the kitchen and returned with some water. “I’ll skip the story and get to the point.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
“The point is, Alexa is a fighter, and every fighter has a style. Alexa, she’s a counterpuncher. You push her, she pushes back. Martin pushed her buttons, she broke his foot. Dad criticized her, she gave it right back to him.”
I didn’t see the point. “So?”
“You’ve got to stop pushing her, because it only makes her resist more.”
I didn’t like where this was going. “I’m not pushing anything.”
“You are too.” Noah sighed like I was the dumbest fuck around. “Stop sending her flowers. Stop calling every day.”
I stood up and stretched. “Where does that get me?” I asked, bracing myself against the back of the couch.
“It keeps you from digging a deeper hole. She’s a pusher, I tell you.”
“Don’t reach out?”
“Not at all. It can’t be any worse than what you’ve been doing.” He pointed down the hall. “Now off to the shower, and you have to get back to work.”
He was probably right about the work part. Under the water, I slowly accepted Noah’s logic. Backing off went against everything I’d learned, everything that had made me successful, but I’d try it. What I’d tried so far hadn’t gotten me anywhere.
* * *
Alexa
