Everything about my life honestly felt like a colossal mistake.
What the fuck had I been thinking? I didn’t know how to be married. But I also couldn’t go back on it.
I felt trapped.
Like the walls were coming in on me.
My band was probably breaking up.
My best friend had died.
My assistant was being a bitch.
I was being a shit partner to Saylor.
Nothing was going right. Nothing.
What I’d give to feel nothing right now.
Fuck.
I pulled my cell phone out of my back pocket and made a call.
I expected voicemail, but surprisingly he picked up after only three rings.
“Mal, man, I heard the news,” Caden Dawson, Hollywood A-list actor and my NA sponsor, answered. “How are you holding up?”
“Shitty. I, I’m afraid I’m going to break my sobriety. I just, I just really need…fuck if I know.”
“All right. I’m in town. We’re actually filming on the backlot at Paramount. Why don’t you come to me, and we’ll talk?”
“I didn’t realize you’re filming. I don’t want to bug you at work, Cay. I can look up a meeting and—”
“Shit, you’re so fucking hard-headed. I see there’s a meeting in North Hollywood at noon. I’ll meet you there since you’re being a stubborn asshole.”
“I already went to a meeting this morning.”
“And you’re going to go to a meeting at noon and get a coffee with me. And you might need to go to another meeting tonight. You’re going to go to as many meetings as you need to if it’ll keep you sober.”
I sighed heavily. “Fine.”
“I’ll see you there. Don’t make me chase you down.”
“I’ll be there. Thanks, Caden.”
“Anytime, man. See you soon.”
I ended the call and avoided my reflection as I put my phone back in my pocket. I already felt lighter just having talked to Caden. His Texan no nonsense tone always made me feel better, like having a big brother look after me. And I didn’t need my bloodshot eyes or my haggard expression ruining that for me.
I left the bathroom and found my mom and Saylor in the kitchen, bent over a paper on the counter.
“Oh.” Saylor looked up at me with a hesitant smile. “Did you change your mind? Because I was thinking of making chicken tikka tacos. I got the recipe from this actor’s cookbook. I can’t remember his name, but he’s always the baddie in all the movies. Apparently he has few restaurants in LA.”
“Robby Lopez?” I shook my head. “You realize we could just save all that hassle and order the tacos from the restaurant?”
“But…I wanted to cook for you.” Her shoulders hunched, and she bit her bottom lip.
I knew,I knewI should reassure her or give her a hug at least, but I was just so tired.