Letting Him Go

"Hello?"

I can hear her sobbing through the phone and she isn't even on speaker. His brows furrow in immediate concern. One second. He looks at me, holding up a finger and walking into the other room.

I bring the steaming mug of coffee to my lips and nod, watching him softly close the door behind him. I sigh into the silence that fills the living room. Lea is with her grandmother for the weekend, and the house feels larger than ever in her absence. I glance over at the stack of autographed A Star Is Born playbills on the kitchen table and the uncapped black Sharpie that rests in front of Bradley's abandoned workspace. What is it now? Curiosity stirs inside me but I push it away, standing abruptly to take my plate over to the sink.

My phone buzzes and I reach over to pick it up. It's a message from Christian.

"Hey"

What? Before I can think of a response, another text bubble pops up. He's typing.

"Wish u the best" is all he says. Huh? As if on cue, Bradley strides into the room, running his hands anxiously through this hair. I look at him expectantly, a thousand questions on my lips. He turns to me suddenly and I am taken aback— his blue eyes are wild and deeply troubled. It unsettles me and I squirm against the counter.

"What?" I ask softly. He lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Christian just left Stefani. Called off the engagement and everything." A shockwave of realization jolts up my spine.

"Oh." I look down at my phone to see that my hands are shaking. 

"She says she's going over to Natali's, but she's a mess and I don't know if she should be...driving...right now."

Oh.

"She's been drinking." It becomes a statement rather than a question as soon as it tumbles from my mouth.

"Yes."

"She hates being in that house alone," I say matter-of-factly. What am I doing?

"Yes."

A long pause. I breathe in.

"Bring her over here?" It comes out as barely a whisper. God, I hate myself.

His eyes brighten, as if there is nothing he wants to do more in the world right now. His arm instinctively shoots out to grab his car keys, but he stops himself. He looks at me again.

"You sure?" He asks carefully. He tries to contain himself, but the eagerness stirring in his eyes betrays him. I nod and turn away before I can change my mind.

--

My feet are heavy as I trudge up the stairs, a heaping pile of blankets and pillows spilling out of my arms. I fling the linens onto the bed when I reach the guest room, hastily tucking in the sheets and smoothing the covers. I don't know what to expect so I imagine the worst, grabbing a bottle of Advil from the medicine cabinet and placing it on the nightstand. It's going to be a long night.

As I head back down the steps, the door clicks open and I freeze in my tracks. My heart sinks. I'm not sure if it's at the sight of the broken little body that appears in the doorway or the arms that protectively hold her against his chest. 

Arms that supposedly belong to me.

She looks up from the crook of his neck and the daylight streams onto her hollow face. Barefoot and engulfed in a large woolen cardigan, she hangs her head as if she could collapse forward at any second, her platinum hair damp and flat on her cheeks. Her eyes, stained red by tears and alcohol, are as green as ever. With one arm across her chest keeping her upright, he leans in to gently wipe a tear from her chin, whispering something into her hair. She spots me and she gasps. Life rushes into her face.