8: ZENON

Last night, I headed for the beach, but I went in the opposite direction of the bonfire. I could still hear the others out there laughing, and I could smell the pungent aroma of the marijuana.

I was surprised to see that Dani passed on the joint when, in the past, she would have consumed her fair share.

I needed to get away from the arguing, the accusations, and the lies she told herself because that was the only thing she could live with. Dani always had a hard time accepting the truth. She didn't know how to exist in reality.

By the time I came home an hour later, the cottage was quiet, and I assumed she'd been sleeping since the lights were out under her door. I'd gone to my bedroom, showered, and climbed into the bed exhausted.

I spent most of the night tossing and turning until I gave up and finally called Larisa and spoke with my daughter, Zílda. They were currently in Bangalore, India, and they were ten and a half hours ahead of us.

I chatted with her until I started dozing on the phone.

Larisa had popped on and told me to get some rest and call back later. It was coming up on my turn to get my daughter soon, and I'd promised that she could stay with me.

I know that I need to make alternative arrangements for her to come because I don't want her exposed to the mess that was Dani and me.

Waking up at six this morning, I instantly went out and hit the beach for a three-mile run. Afterward, I returned to do push-ups and some weight training. I had a lot on my mind and hadn't been this tense since the days after my breakup with Dani.

I spent the first three months of that time in an alcohol-induced state of mind where I slept most days away, sat staring at the ceiling, or wandered out to start a fight with someone.

"Hey," I hear from behind me.

Turning away from the spinach omelet that I'm making, I look over my shoulder.

"Hi."

"I um...just wanted to apologize about last night, apologize for how I ended things between us, and for hurting you," she says, standing in the open doorway, crossing one foot over the other.

Dani drags her big right toe over the toes of her left foot. She glances at me a couple of times but looks back down at her feet as though the answers are there.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I reply, "I don't want or need an apology, Dani. It's the explanation for what you've been doing is what I'm looking for."

She clears her throat and slowly walks to the island.

"Don't judge me."

"Have I ever?" I ask.

"No. But you might. When you hear what I have to say," she says in halting sentences.

"Give me a second," I say, removing the omelet from the pan and plating it. "I want to give you my full attention when we have this conversation."

Danica sits in silence as I cook the second omelet and then top them both with sour cream and chives. I take the plates to the island where she sits, and I place one in front of her. I sit down beside her and watch as she lightly pushes her plate away.

"I recall when those used to be your favorite breakfast," I say, pointing my fork at her plate while I chew my first bite.

Nodding, she says, "It still is. I haven't had one in some time, and no one makes them quite like you do."

"So, you're not going to eat it?"

"I will. It's just that might stomach is flipping over on itself."

I set my fork and plate aside briefly and ask, "What are you nervous about, Dani?"

"Just how you'll respond to me when I tell you these things."

"I've always been your friend, haven't I?"

Smirking, she tilts her head sideways and says, "No. You haven't always been my friend."

Laughing, I say, "Okay. You've got me there. I was mad for a bit and didn't speak to you."

"Five years is more than a bit, Z."

"Tell you what. I'll make a promise right here and now that no matter what you disclose to me, I'll still be your friend when it's all said and done. After all, I came here to the island and stayed in your cottage, didn't I?"

"That's because you had no place else to go," Dani says, spinning on her stool to face me.

"Do you believe that? I had many places that I could go. All it took was money."

"You needed anonymity."

"For the right price, I could have gotten that."

"What are you saying, Z?"

"No matter how angry I've been at you, no matter how much time has passed since we spoke, you're still in my heart. I came to where you would be. Even if you weren't here physically, I knew that a part of you would always be here. This was how I could be close to you without being with you."

Dani spins back around to the island and chews her bottom lip thoughtfully.

"I just spent the last ninety days in a drug rehabilitation center."

Dani closes her eyes and inhales before she slowly exhales. I sit and watch her without saying a word. I know that she needs to do this her way.

Her light fingers clutch the edge of the island. My eyes stray to her chipped fingernails surprised to see her hands looking that way. Danica Maxwell would have never been caught dead with chipped nails. Everything had to be done to perfection, including her hair, nails, feet, and face.

"It started two years before I met you. We would occasionally smoke weed. My roommate and I would. It started in our apartment with the guys we were dating at the time, and it increased to whenever we were at a party or nightclub. By the time that I met you, I had graduated to nose candy."

My face remains impassive, but on the inside, I'm rocking. I never had any idea that she was on cocaine back then. She had never done that around me or even alluded to the fact that she was doing it.

"It was only occasionally back then. As time went on, I tried to find ways to escape the memories that haunted me, the nightmares that tortured me, and the shame that I carried around with me daily."

Tears roll down Danica's face, but I can see that she's put this protective wall up around herself, and she doesn't want to let me in. At least not now.

"Eventually, the cocaine, the weed, and the alcohol weren't doing enough. I thought that getting my own show would help rid me of my pain. The first two years were excellent. I was doing wonderful things as an influencer in the modeling world although I retired, and my talk show was taking off. The third year I returned to business school to get a degree. I was so proud, Z, but then I had a skiing accident in Gstaad."

"I recall reading about that. It happened four years ago, right?"

"Yes, it happened not long after we broke up. Anyway, I was in excruciating pain after having broken my leg and injured my back."

I think about how badly I wanted to reach out to her during that time. I decided that it was best to stay away from her because I was still in a bad place, and she didn't need my shit.

"That's when I was prescribed oxycodone. It was wonderful at first as it eliminated the pain that I was feeling from the accident. In time, the pain would flare back up, and I would continue taking the medication for the pain. After a while, I didn't feel as if I could function without it. That's when I knew that I was hooked on the pills."

Dani pauses for a couple of minutes and climbs off the stool. I watch as she heads down the hallway. Scrubbing my hands over my face, I try to figure out how I can help her, but I'm not sure that I can. Maybe she just wants someone to listen.

I'm aching inside to know that she's been dealing with this without me by her side.

She returns with a box of tissues which she sets on the island in front of her as she climbs back onto the stool.

"Zenon, before I knew it, I was taking pills to wake up and pills to go to sleep at night. I started noticing that my nerves and anxieties were getting bad on top of that. Mentioning it in a passing conversation to one of my producers, Melanie Stream, she obtained a prescription for Zoloft, and she makes sure that I'm never without it.

"When she realized that the Zoloft was giving me tremors, excessive sweating, and dry mouth, she brought the studio doctor in. He suggested that I take Xanax to help with that."

"Did he know that you were already on the oxycodone and the Zoloft?"

"Who do you think was prescribing that for me? My primary care doctor was certainly no longer doing it."

Anger rushes through me as I think about finding that doctor and crushing his skull. What the fuck was he thinking? And this producer of hers?

"I know what you're thinking, Z. There's nothing that you can do about it. This is an industry-wide thing, and it's protected at every level. We can't get that doctor's license revoked no more than we can get Mel fired. Everyone knows what's going on, and I'm not the only one they're doing that way. If they can keep us functioning to produce the billions of dollars of income that we do, they're going to do whatever it takes to keep milking that cash cow."

"Until the cow keels over, huh?" I ask.

"Literally," she says, and I can tell that she's thinking about what the ladies were discussing last night.

"Is that what led you to the rehabilitation center? When you passed out?"

"Indirectly, yes. I wasn't going to go, Z. I literally was still in denial that I had an addiction. I mean, don't get me wrong, I knew that I was hooked on oxycodone. But in my mind, everything else was simply a medication to treat something else, and I didn't have an addiction."

"What changed your mind?"

"Being at the rehab, it forced me to face myself and put in the work. It took a lot of hard work to get my system clean. I cannot recall the last time that I looked forward to waking up in the morning and embracing life. It's not easy, but every morning when I wake up, I find one more reason to be grateful. I'm learning to focus on the blessings and not the past."

"If you don't mind me asking, what was so troubling about the past that you didn't want to wake up? What's so troubling about the past that you resorted to taking drugs to forget the pain?"

Danica reaches her hand out to caress my face. "Z, you wanted forever, and I could only promise you one day. That's why I had to push you out, don't you see?"

The only thing that I see is that she's not answering my questions, and I can't help but wonder why.

"No, I don't."

"You never really knew me."

"I knew what mattered, Dani. I knew your heart. I knew your soul."

"But you didn't know my past. You didn't know what I was capable of."

"You could have shared it with me, and I still would have been by your side. I loved you then, Dani, and I love you now."

Shaking her head, she says, "I'm not cut out to be anyone's wife, Z. I'm the most selfish person that I know."

Dani hops off the stool and leaves the kitchen. I hear the front door slam, and I know that she just wants to be alone right now. As much as I want to run after her, I won't. I'll give her the space and time she needs to come to me with an open heart and tells me what she's done that was so horrible; other than breaking my heart.

I grab both plates and dump the food into the sink before turning on the garbage disposal. Rinsing the plates, I set them in the dishwasher and head to my room.

Closing my eyes, I think about the day that she tore my heart straight from my chest.

"The score is tied, ladies and gentlemen. Who will take home the FIFA World Cup? Italy or Brazil?"

"It's anyone's game right now, Jack."

"This tournament is the largest soccer match in the world, but this match-up is the greatest one in history, Chris. Two of the greatest rivals going head-to-head to take the other one down."

"I wonder how Diaz feels about going up against his home team, Jack?"

"Especially considering that he tried out for the Brazilian team but didn't make it. I'm sure he wants to rub a win in their faces."

"We've got some notable celebrities here today, including renowned supermodel Nica."

I glance at the stands, looking for my woman. I don't see her as I scan the stands and return my attention to the game.

"She's with Johan Jurgen, the multi-billionaire president and owner of Horoscope Studios."

My gaze goes up to the executive suites upon hearing that name. Through the glass, I can see the man lean in and nuzzle Danica's neck just before he kisses her lips. The kiss is intimate and lengthy. All I can see is black. Nausea fills my stomach, and all I want to do is take someone's head off.

"Hey, buddy. Guess your girl already knows you're on the losing team. Looks like she picked herself a winner," Miguel Silva, a member of the opposing team, says, pointing to where Danica sits with Johan Jurgen.

Miguel starts laughing like it's the funniest thing he's ever seen. Humiliated at the show of affection between Dani and Jurgen happening in the suite, I embrace the rage surging inside of me. My fists clench, and my jaw locks as Miguel says something to his teammate, and the two of them look up at Danica and Jurgen then back at me before dissolving into laughter.

I know that I should display more emotional control and ignore their ignorance, but it's hard when the two whom I really want to take my rage out on are out of my reach.

There isn't that much distance between Miguel and me. So, as he's walking backward and still laughing at me, I charge him and headbutt him.

The headbutt isn't enough because as he falls to the ground, I jump on him and begin to pound his face. The shrill sound of the referee's whistle pierces the air as players charge the field. Arms pull at me, dragging me away as players from my team argue heatedly with players from the Brazilian team.

I don't pay any of that attention. My gaze goes straight to the suites and lands on Danica who's watching me with a horrified expression.