Chapter 21

*Ryder*

She looks good; she looks way better than she did in that hospital bed. And just the simple act of looking at her filled me with more peace and joy than I can remember. It was a bitch being this close and still not being able to approach her, but it was good enough for now. It will have to be.

I watched her from afar and felt a smile in my heart when she threw her head back and laughed at something her friend said. She used to laugh like that with me, better even. Her laugh, like her cheeks, is one of those things I missed about her at night when I was lying alone beneath the stars, fighting to get the drugs out of my system and back to some semblance of humanity.

If it wasn't for her, I'd have given up on the idea, especially in those first few days, which are always the hardest when going through detox. Add the psych shit to the mix, and it has been a different kind of hell. I just keep reminding myself that it's for her because, in all honesty, if it was just for me, I don't think I could do it.

It's safe to say that she's worth more to me than myself, which may not be the best thing, but it's where I'm at. It's given me focus, something I needed. Don't ask me why I couldn't do that shit before I let everything go to hell, but letter late than never, right.

I'm not sure I'm going about this the right way, though, just disappearing and cutting everyone off without any kind of explanation, but for the first time in for way too long, I feel alive, well, somewhat. I won't be there until I get her back.

But cutting out everyone else has proven to be just what I needed. Without the constant interference, I was finding it easier to want to do this all the way. I no longer wanted to run away from life, but to find it, to find my way back to her if she'd have me. It's the only hope I have left, the only thing I have to look forward to.

The fame, the wealth, the adoration from the masses, none of that mattered any longer, not as much as just one of her smiles does to me. I never imagined that I'd ever be here, that I'd ever have such clarity in this one corner of my life. But it's the only thing I'm one hundred percent sure about that I can't live for much longer without her by my side.

I've been keeping track of her and doing some catching up on social media, but I'm still working through what's real and what's not. At the same time, I was working on getting myself clean away from the public eye. It wasn't easy finding someone who could be trusted to keep their mouths shut and not be bought off. There aren't that many decent people left, and I certainly wouldn't have found anyone in LA. Not one that I would've trusted anyway.

I didn't want anyone to know that I was getting clean, not yet anyway, because I'd come to suspect that someone had been manipulating me with drugs. It wasn't easy finding a place to go for help without using all of my resources, but at least I always had an emergency fund in a separate account that no one knew about, thank heaven, and there were enough funds in there to float me for at least a few years, which this shouldn't take so long.

I'd used that fund to set up a new account for my mother so no one would suspect that we were in contact again, which was a smart move because she was sure that she was being watched. I could understand if this was part of their search for me, but there seems to be something else going on there as well.

The place I found in Arizona was great at helping me detox, but it hasn't done much with the anger management thing. My anger only seems to grow the soberer I become, which just might be counterproductive.

The deeper I dig, the angrier I become, but at least I'm getting better at not wanting to turn to the bottle or take a hit of something to take the edge off. I just have to remind myself that there's still something worth fighting for. I think it was easy to give up on myself, to get lost in my head and waste away when I thought there was no chance for us, and though I'm still not a hundred percent sure where this is going, I now have the wish to at least try.

It helps to keep her in the forefront of my mind along with the hope that one day she might forgive me; I mean, she'd called out for me in her sleep, so that has to mean something. I hope it does because it's what's been carrying me all this time, ever since I left her in that hospital.

I was still no closer to finding out what was going on and how we ended up here, still trying to separate reality from my own imagination. I had lost huge chunks of time, and there were things I couldn't quite grasp, but with the drugs clearing my system, things were looking up.

Mom's guy seems to be making strides with his investigation as well, though he won't say much about what he'd found so far other than that it's bad, whatever the hell that means. According to mom, he refuses to give her anything until he's got more, but so far, it seems like I made the right decision to cut out when I did.

So far, I know that someone has been using my social media platforms while I was high out of my fucking mind to throw shade at Elena, to put her down in ways that I would never do, no matter how fucked up I am. Her fans were rightfully pissed and were going in on me, but instead of being upset, I appreciate the fact that she has people on her side, strangers though they are.

Even though I'm not quite certain about the little flashes of memory I've been getting, whether they're real or fake, I have started writing them down all the same because some of that shit seems way too detailed to be a dream or hallucination of any sort. For a while there, the last five years, in fact, the only thing I could remember was her betrayal. It was the one constant in my life and the thing that kept me going back to the bottle or something stronger just to get me through.

But now that my mind was a little bit sober, I find myself asking all the right questions. Like, why did I take the word of people I did not trust against the only person I ever completely trusted? It's here where the headaches usually start and where I usually convince myself that it's just not worth digging deeper into the recesses of my mind.

But with the help of the nut in the desert who was helping me with detox, I'm starting to be able to push back and get through them to the other side, and what I'm finding there in that clarity that I'm still not sure of, is a can of worms that will no doubt lead me down a rabbit hole of conspiracy fuckery.

Little snippets of past conversations keep flittering through my mind. Things that make no sense with people that I don't remember being that close to. People that I have actively hated in the past seem to have become part of my inner circle at some point before I pushed them away again. Case in point, Noel, Nicole, their mother Mary, and other members of their fucked-up family. Still, I'm not too sure what is real about that and what my fractured mind had conjured.

The only thing I know for sure is that she's the total opposite of what I ended up with. Even when I was at my highest, I wouldn't have made this choice, not willingly anyway, not unless I'd lost my ever-loving mind. And when I read over these notes of mine, especially the ones written when I'd been woken up in the middle of the night, sweating and shaking as if I'd sprinted through two ten-Ks back to back the picture that's being formed, leaves me with a cold knot in my stomach.

Her laugh tinkled on the wind and carried to the yacht I was hiding out on. The one that was moored two down from hers. I'd been sitting on the top deck spying on her for the past two days under the pretense of reading. The book had been outfitted with a lens in the spine that allowed me to zoom in on her beautiful face.

I'm not sure how long I'll be able to get away with it before someone notices something or before it's found out that I'm here. Not sure why I have that worry since no one has been able to find me these last couple of weeks. That's not true; I know why because if anyone could see through this bullshit disguise, it would be her, no one else, just Elena. Because we've both always been able to pick each other out of a crowd.

That's why when I followed her later that day, and she was mobbed by her fans, I joined in. I don't know why I couldn't wait any longer, why I got the bright idea that it was time I started making my way back to her in some small way, if only just to breathe her air.

I knew she wouldn't touch me with a ten-foot pole, not as long as I was married. Her morals would never allow such a thing, and believe it or not, I wouldn't ask her to compromise them. I'd much rather protect them because she is the last bit of innocence I have left, even though I have lost it.

But I needed something, some part of her. Five fucking years was too long to live without breathing. That is why I joined the crowd of people who had surrounded her outside the ice cream shop she was about to enter. Although I told myself to stand back, I couldn't resist the compelling urge to get closer.

I saw the second she felt me, saw the way her breathing changed, and her chest rose and fell more rapidly. And when her head whipped around and our eyes met from behind the shades we both wore, I saw the slight lifting of her lips before she remembered, and it disappeared. I took that hit to the gut and stored it away.

But it was the blush on her cheek, the way her hand shook as she wrote, that told me that she was not unaffected. I could live on that for the next little while. Now I have something new to add to the memories from my nights spent by her hospital bed.

So, although I was almost close to tears because of the loss of her, I held onto the hope that I could turn things around. That I could one day be back in her orbit where I could partake of the genuine love she had for those who mattered.

I stood back and let the others around me push forward with their hands outheld, waiting for her to sign whatever it was that they'd grabbed upon seeing her and felt more alive than I had in the days past.

When I'd learned through the people I had on her that she was taking a trip, there was no question that I was going to follow. My treatment was only halfway finished, and there was a danger of me regressing, but I didn't care. I couldn't not be here. I'm not sure why because I still can't get close to her, but I needed to be here.

I won't go back home until I'm sure I'm ready, and there's no guarantee that I wouldn't be noticed if I went back to LA, so this was probably the last time I'd be able to be this close to her for a while before she goes back home.

I stood back now and watched as she laughed and joked with her adoring friends and felt like I'd won the greatest thing when she lifted her head one last time and searched for me in the crowd. I couldn't beat the tears this time and was too close to doing something stupid, like going to her and grabbing her, so I turned and walked away with wet eyes and a heavy heart.