"I WAS RECEIVING treatment in Boston for half of my hiatus."
Minutes of total silence later, Takoda's voice came, calm and intentional. We'd found our way to the hallway that separated the bedroom from the living space after changing into comfortable clothes, and now we sat facing each other, our backs to the walls, knees touching. His eyes were fixed on his restless hands, and I watched him for just a heartbeat before reaching out to take them in mine. He relaxed almost immediately.
"I'd been ignoring the fact that I was having another depressive episode for a couple weeks before that. I'd call you over, and you'd be there as soon as you could. It was easy to distract myself from it. But then everything happened with us, and I don't know how it was possible to get worse, but I did. I was filled with so much hate, towards myself and in turn the people around me, and I didn't see the importance of sticking around anymore. I really didn't want to be here or anywhere. I was so exhausted that waking up every morning felt like a chore."
My blood went cold with every sentence, but I firmly held onto his hand and told myself not to make any sudden reactions. He'd stop if I did, and we'd never come back to this.
"May came over one morning, and I was just motionless in bed. Lulu was next to me, sad and cuddled up to my side, but I didn't have any sleep that night, so I couldn't even lift a finger. May asked me several questions, none of which I could respond to, and she just started panicking, searching around my bed to see if I'd overdosed on antidepressants or something. Then she called my doctor, and I remember her saying, he's just here, unmoving. Should I be worried? The doctor came over, got me up, gave me my pills, and when I felt better, she asked me what I genuinely wanted. It took maybe three minutes for me to get my thoughts together, but I could only tell her that I missed feeling okay, feeling like myself, that I wanted that back. That was when she suggested the treatment program in Boston.
"I wanted to call you and tell you what was up. I wanted to tell you how sorry I was, but there were these self-deprecating and pessimistic thoughts that stopped me. I didn't want the tabloids up in my business, so I had May swear secrecy and pull some strings that would prevent anyone from bothering me while I was away. The program was three months long, I got out feeling lighter, so I texted Coco, and she called crying, telling me how much she hated me. I sat by the curb just outside the center listening, and when she was done, the only thing I could say was I'm sorry. If she was so torn up by it, I couldn't imagine what you were going through."
Takoda paused and raised his gaze to mine. His eyes were soft and glazed over, like he was on the brink of tears, and my grip around his hands tightened.
"When I came back and saw you, I realized how much I'd messed up. The only time I saw a genuine smile on your face was when you were with Lulu, and I kept asking myself what the hell I'd done. That was the last thing you deserved."
"Xandra didn't deserve it either," I told him quietly, my lips barely moving, and he stopped to regard me for a long moment. I leaned my head against the wall behind me. "Neither did you."
He nodded, then mirrored my position. Our hands remained joined between us. "That's probably what you want to know more, right?" he asked. "About everything with Alex."
"Now that you've told me where you were."
He took the next few moments to gather his thoughts, and my heart, being more unsettled than I thought, began this haphazard rhythm behind my ribs. I wasn't sure if it was because of the anticipation or the fear. When Takoda spoke again, he said, "I met her for the first time at this event in Long Beach, and I won't lie to you, I thought she was amazing. She was quiet, and there was just this wisdom in her eyes. I can't really remember the details, but we kept in touch, and feelings came in. I didn't tell her about my depression because I saw it as a burden and didn't want that weight on anybody else, but eventually she started to notice gaps in my behavior. One moment I'd want to get drunk and get in a car, self-destruct. The next I'd ignore her for days, sick of everything. Another I'm asking her to stay five more minutes because I couldn't imagine being away from her. It was basically just a bunch of opposing stuff I did in a haze, and one day she snapped.
"She'd been calling and basically trying to get me to do one thing or the other with her, I'd been declining, and the next thing I knew, she was in my house, fuming, asking what was wrong with me, what I wanted from her, why I kept treating her like a toy. I was so numb to her in that moment that I could barely show interest in anything she was saying. At some point, I got mad and asked her if she couldn't see that I wasn't okay. One thing led to another, she called me an asshole, and walked out. I realized how much she meant to me and tried to make things right, but she wasn't having it." He paused to release a small laugh. "She'd literally text me back to tell me she couldn't handle my shit at the moment, and that I should just leave her alone. I thought that was it. Then there was you."
Takoda smiled at me, and I saw the serenity in his eyes. I wanted to smile back, but I couldn't push past the pain in my lungs. Things were starting to make a whole lot of sense now, so much that I felt silly for even thinking anyone was to blame for what happened. This wasn't about me, or about Xandra. It was just Takoda, and how people were in his life trying to play roles he wasn't ready for. Sometimes when my mental health took a plunge, I'd try my possible best not to go out of my room. While everyone was asleep and the crew was gone, I'd raid the pantry, grab several bags of snacks, take drinks and bottles of water from the fridge.
I wouldn't want to see or talk to anyone. I'd ignore texts and calls, go on unplanned social media breaks. It was a weird state. On the one hand, I was feeling low because I believed for some reason that no one really cared about me in ways that mattered, and on the other I was annoyed that they just couldn't stay out of my business. I would nearly lose my mind every time my mom would knock on my door asking if I was hungry or if I wanted to go to Sunset Boulevard or El Segundo or Santa Monica with her. I'd hate the sound of her voice, hate the smell of her perfume, only to bawl my eyes out after I snapped at her and she left.
Then I'd see the comments. About me being a total unfeeling bitch. About me being the less attractive sister. About me being cut out of the show because I was a complete waste of space. All because I didn't break down in front of the cameras or cried in the confessional like my sister did. All because every one of my down moments were handled within the walls of my bedroom.
I knew what it was like to feel so hopeless and numb. I knew what it was like to unintentionally drag people down. I knew what it was like to badly crave the stillness that eventually led to me sending people away. Not because I wanted to. Not because I had to. But because in that haze, I never realized how much people actually wanted to exist alongside me, how my self-destruction was killing them. I knew what it was like for even family to have enough of my behavior, for them to snap and tremble with annoyance towards me, for me to hate the fact that they don't understand, for the cycle to repeat itself. An infinite loop.
I knew all these things but still couldn't look past my nose enough to realize that I wasn't the only one experiencing feelings like that. That sometimes people were too overwhelmed with their own problems to have enough room to contain someone else's pain. That everything wasn't about me. Not everyone wanted to hurt me. Not everyone had malicious intentions.
I wanted to cry for all the months I spent hating someone that was hurting.
"You were—you were just . . ." Takoda trailed off, but his voice was lighter in the air now. He ran his fingers through his hair, gave it a little ruffle, a smile playing on his lips the whole time. After a second, he laughed, and it was obvious that he knew how much he was mirroring a third grader with a crush. "You snuck up on me. It's funny since you've been there my whole life. It just took me a little too long to realize how badly down I was for you. You've been . . . amazing. Nothing short of amazing. The best friend energy, the lover vibes." I finally cracked a smile, more at his use of the word "vibes". He truly never ceased to amaze me. "You became everything. After that depressive wave had passed, I could make myself enjoy things again, feel things, and it was so euphoric that I never wanted it to end. But then it came back with bouts of anxiety, and I didn't want you there for any of it.
"You were the only person I could talk freely to about what was going on, and I knew I could tell you that the feeling of dread was back, but I also didn't want you to see me like that again. So I pretended like it wasn't there until Alex showed up unannounced, broken down and apologizing for the way she left things. It was just a lot to unpack. We hadn't spoken to each other in months, and I was sure it was over. I was losing my mind, so I—I told her about you, the final nail in the coffin. She didn't like that 'cause, apparently, we hadn't broken up yet. It was a really messed up situation, and really bad timing. I was feeling so many things at once. Confused. Angry. Betrayed. By her, by my own emotions, by life. When you showed up at the kitchen entrance, I quite literally saw black. I knew I'd lost again."
Did he tell you about me? That was the first thing Xandra had said to me, tears running down her face, cheeks blotched, her heels in her hand. Takoda had looked tortured, frozen to the spot, while I tried to wrap my head around the bits of their heated conversation I'd caught on my way to them. The fact that I was the other girl in a relationship. The girl that was always painted in a villainous light in movies. The girl everybody hated. The girl that tore true lovers apart. The girl who was difficult to get rid of. I was that girl.
I wasn't sure how long we stood there for, but Xandra was the one to break the silence. She'd grabbed her keys from the granite countertop and stormed out of the kitchen, her breathing ragged as she brushed by me. Then it was me and Takoda. Takoda and me.
"I self-destructed yet again because it was easier that way," Takoda continued. "It was easier to let you blame me, to let you hate me. I said really messed up shit to you that have been the center of my nightmares ever since. I don't know how I'll ever be able to forgive myself for all of it. For you. For Alex."
He went quiet, and it was only minutes later when I heard my sniffle that I realized I was crying. Out here in the open, walls down. I hadn't had a good cry since the drunken incident in Night Shift's bathroom many, many weeks ago, and now tears were just streaming down my face, unprompted. Leftover trauma maybe.
I ran my palms over my cheeks and forced myself to laugh. "I almost crashed my car on the way back home," I told him, and the horror on his face had me questioning my sanity, asking myself why that was even important. "It was a little dramatic. The car overheated after I forced it to a stop, but a stranger helped me out, offered me a tissue from their car, gave me a ride. How often do you see an abandoned Porsche on the side of the road, Takoda?" I was still trying to bring the humor out of this near-death experience, and I could tell Takoda was also trying to make sense of what was so amusing about it.
He watched me as though in a trance for a moment, then he blinked, and the next thing I heard from him was, "Shit."
"It gave me a good excuse though. I was crying when I got home, and when everyone asked me what was wrong, I told them I almost crashed my car."
"You could've gotten really hurt." He took a pause. Then, "You could've died."
"Well, I didn't. That counts for something, right?"
Takoda shook his head. "It's not funny, Cleobelle."
I let out a breath and kept my eyes on him, a little stumped by his use of my full name—something he usually only did when we were joking around. This time, there wasn't a trace of playfulness in his features. His face was stoic, from the horror of realizing how easily he could've lost me, and for good, or because I thought it was sane to joke about it, I wasn't sure.
I could only look at him. For a beat. For two. Then I nodded and wiped a hand beneath my nose. "I know."
Takoda remained in his trance-like state for a moment, and because he didn't move or say anything, I stayed still as well. It wasn't until he scooted closer to me, his knees moving so they could be outside mine, so I was sitting between his legs, that I felt myself relax. He didn't speak at first, just reached out to brush strands of hair off my face. His hand lingered, as was his habit, until my cheek wasn't enough and his fingers were gently around my chin, his thumb moving in a dizzying stroke below my lower lip.
"This might sound dramatic," he said, his voice lower by a few octaves, "but sometimes I really do not like you." He allowed a small pause, and I couldn't help but let my soft chuckle fill it. His returning smile was an achievement I wished I could put on a shelf. "I do love you, though. All the time. And I'm incredibly sorry for everything I put you through. Sorry won't ever cut it, but I'm truly sorry. It's why I always say I don't deserve you. It's like giving a brick of gold to a man that hasn't worked for a penny his entire life."
"He might have a good reason for not working," I interjected.
"Respectfully, shut up, Cleo."
I made a show of pretending to zip my lips shut, but deep down inside me, I was ecstatic.
"Point is, you're easily the best thing that has happened to me in a really long time. I messed up and almost threw that away, but here you are. Says a lot." He gave my chin another stroke, then added in a whisper, "Means a lot. I don't know if you can ever forgive me, but if you can, I'd—I'd really appreciate it."
I didn't know what to say to him, didn't know how to formulate the words burning on my tongue, and looking at the sincerity in his eyes nearly broke me, so I maneuvered my feet to be on either side of his hips, then reached out to wrap my arms around his neck. His response was quick, his hands coming around me and pulling me closer.
At the contact, I realized why I'd choose Takoda over anyone else any day. I didn't think anyone was ever really going to match up to him. To his softness, to his attentiveness, to the way he regarded everything and everyone—as what they truly were, not what they claimed to be. I hit the jackpot with Takoda Calebs, and even though we'd spent a lot of time apart, not getting why we cared so much about our hurt, we'd eventually been reeled back to each other. Opposite sides of a magnet.
"Let's go again?" I eventually asked, lips to his ear.
"Let's go again. All in this time."
That gave me pause, and I felt myself stiffen in his arms before pulling away altogether so I could look him in the eye in this crucial moment in time. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
Takoda smiled, and it was full of the same boyish charm slash bashfulness that made teenage girls obsess over him. "I think I am." His smile fell into something a bit gentler, then he said, "Be my girlfriend, Clee."
I could've imploded. I could've just turned to bits right there. What we had before was a hot, unlabeled mess, and to hear him say those words—the same Takoda who told me he wasn't ready for the commitment of a relationship—filled me with so much joy. With the assurance that we were real, and that it was real this time. That he wanted to be with me, exclusively. That he wanted to have me to himself. That he wanted me to be his girlfriend. For real.
I smiled like a fool before leaning in and capturing his lips with mine. Nothing grand, nothing dramatic. Just a simple kiss to seal the deal. Then I hugged him again, still smiling, and after a moment, I became aware of the tears in my eyes, evidence that this Las Vegas trip had turned out to be one of my favorite decisions.
the end of an era & the beginning of a new one. i've been having visions of this chapter since i started writing this book. it turned out less teary and angry than i imagined, but perfect nonetheless, and it's such a relief to finally clear the air.
that said, honeymoon's over, and it's back to reality and act 3 chaos *side eye*
p s. that unexplained thing i mentioned chapters ago regarding my profile is a new romance. it's up now, and you can check it out before updates continue <3