Page 82 of The Plus One Professional
“I’m going to go to bed.” Sara cut me off as she leaned over and gave Lindsay a hug. “It was good seeing you, sweetie.”
“You, too.” Lindsay hugged her back as she took in a shaky breath.
Sara stood and, on the way to her room, gave me a quick hug, whispering in my ear, “She’s been drinking. I tried to text you.”
Text me?I pulled my phone out and saw that it was dead. I hadn’t let my phone die since I was a teenager. Once Peter got sick and then Sara, Ialwayshad it fully charged. Today had really shaken me up.
Once we were alone, I turned to Lindsay. “Do you want some water?”
She nodded as she wiped the tears streaming down her cheeks. I went into the kitchen, plugged in my phone, poured Lindsay a glass of water, and put two Alka Seltzers in it for her stomach. Then, I quickly made a peanut butter and banana sandwich. It was her favorite sandwich, or had been at one time, and it would help soak up the alcohol.
I came back into the room and found Lindsay curled up in the corner of the couch, her legs tucked beneath her. She wasn’t crying anymore, which was a good thing. I hated seeing anyone cry, but especially people I cared about. And part of me would always care about Lindsay.
When I handed her the glass of water and sandwich, tears filled her eyes once more. Her bottom lip quivered as she sniffed. “You made me a peanut butter and banana sandwich.”
“You don’t have to eat it.”
“No, I want it. I just…it just…that’swho you are.” She waved her hand up and down like she was a showcase model, and the sandwich was a car.
I wasn’t sure how much she’d had to drink, but since she wasn’t making sense, I figured it was a lot. If she wanted to say I was a peanut butter and banana sandwich, I wasn’t going to argue with her. “Okay.”
“Right?!” she exclaimed as she took a bite.
“Uh-huh.” I agreed again.
“That’swho you are!” she insisted loudly as she chewed.
“Yep. I’m a sandwich,” I said, hoping she’d drop it.
“No.” Her head fell back as she laughed. “You are the guy who, when their ex, who cheated on you and ghosted you, shows up at their apartment drunk after three years, you make them fizzy water and a peanut butter and banana sandwich, so they don’t get sick.That’swho you are.”
“Yeah, I’m a real hero,” I stated flatly.
Her eyes widened as she nodded her head aggressively. “You are, and you don’t even know it. You’re not just a hero. You’re a superhero, and I fucked everything up.” Tears began pouring down her face as she broke down in sobs.
“Lindsay, it’s okay. Just eat your sandwich. Drink your water.” I flipped on the TV to try and give her a chance to breathe. It was cued up toThe Office, which didn’t surprise me since it was Sara’s favorite show.
I pressed play and made a mental note of where the episode was at, so I could cue it back up to that spot. There was nothing worse than someone messing up a show you’re binging by watching it and making you lose your place. I wasn’t a superhero, like Lindsay claimed, but I wasn’t an asshole.
We sat and watched the casino episode where John Krasinski’s character Jim finally tells Jenna Fischer’s character Pam that he’s in love with her. When the episode ended, I glanced over and saw Lindsay setting her now empty glass down on the coffee table and wadding up the paper towel that had housed her sandwich.
“Better?” I asked.
“Better.” She took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m so sorry, CJ.”
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “It was a long time ago.”
“No. It’s not. I was stupid and young, and you had so much going on. I was scared that if I stayed with you, I’d end up having all that responsibility, too. I should have just told you what I was feeling. And I was going to. I tried to, but every time I saw you, you just looked so tired and worn down and scared. I just…I couldn’t bring myself to add any more stress to you.”
I couldn’t help but grin at the irony of her not wanting to stress me out but then cheating on me and moving across the country without even telling me.
“I know, I know. What I ended up doing was so much worse. But, it really did just sort of happen.”
“I don’t want to talk abo?—”
“Please? Can I please just tell you what happened? I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I just need you to know.” A single tear slid down her cheek.
I could see that she was barely holding herself together.
