“Okay. Bye, Robbie. Oh—” She takes a step closer. “You wouldn’t have anything going on this Thursday night, would you, baby?”
I hesitate, cringing deep down at the way she calls me baby. “Not sure...”
“Because I’m having a little get-together in my unit. Nothing too fancy. Just some music and drinks with some friends from school. We haven’t gotten together like this since I came home from abroad.”
“Rome, was it?” I ask.
“No, silly!” She brightens up and slaps my arm. “Paris!”
I scoff, playing dumb. “Someday I’ll get it down, I’m sure.”
“Well, I thought that maybe you’d like to pop your ruggedly handsome head in for a while.” She smiles wider. “Make it a real party.”
“I don’t know,” I say, gently backing away. “I might have something that night…”
“Just say maybe.”
“Maybe.”
I take a step to the left, but she leans in again.
“Let me know,” she says. “I’m only two doors down.”
And only one door down from the landlord, Mr. White.
Her dad.
The ex pro-wrestler.
I chuckle. “Okay, Val. Will do. Byeeee.”
I walk around her, taking a wide step to get to the stairs even faster. I bolt up them two at a time without looking back, winding myself by the time I reach the fourth floor, but the last thing I want is for Mr. White to see his daughter all over me.
I unlock my door and rush inside, checking my mail as I go. I grab the two obvious bills from the stack and tear the rest down the middle before tossing them in the kitchen trash.
“Hey, guys,” I say to my aquarium, genuinely happy to see my fish. I walk into the living room and stand in front of my bookshelf, taking a deep, soothing breath as I watch the bubbles rise from a treasure chest near the bottom corner.
Nice, relaxing—
The door opens behind me.
I groan as I spin back around. “Val, I said maybe—” I pause, relieved to see Trix standing in the doorway. “Oh, good. It’s just you.”
“Yeah,” she says as she nudges the door closed in annoyance. “It’s just me, the pregnant girl who had to chase you up four flights of stairs.”
I cringe as I reach for the bottle of fish food on the shelf. “Sorry about that. You okay?”
“I’ll live, I guess.” She slides her coat off. “Who’s Val?”
“My neighbor,” I answer as I dump a small bit of fish food into the water. Three goldfish swim out of their hiding places, eager to gobble up the little bits. “She can be a real… whatever. What’s up with you?”
I wander back to the kitchenette, and Trix approaches me, looking more serious than usual.
“You need to talk to Melanie,” she says.
I shake my head. “I already talked to Melanie once today. Any further communication might alter the natural order of things and I’m already on the shit list with the Pentagon. I’ll talk to her next week.”
“Rob.” She squints. “You need to talk to Melanie.”
“Pray tell why, Ms. Argento.”
“Because she thinks it’s her fault you’re sober,” she says.
“Her fault?”
“Great job, by the way. I’m proud of you.”
I nod. “Thank you very much.”
“That couldn’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t. Her fault?”
Trix takes a much-needed breath. “Melanie thinks the only reason you got cleaned up is because she wasn’t a bad influence on your life anymore, which we both know is completely untrue. It’s not true, right?”
“Of course it’s not true.”
“So, you need to go to her and tell her that. Now. Before she spirals even further.”
I pretend to think about it. “No,” I say.
“Rob.”
“Trix.”
She scoffs. “Stop being an asshole and just go do it.”
“I’ve got her right where I want her.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks.
“The self-pity party is slightly ahead of schedule, but I can work with it.” I reach out and pinch a lock of her black hair, giving it a few quick tugs. “Nothing to worry your little head about.”
“You know I can have you killed, right?” she asks, annoyed.
I release her hair. “Trix, it’s fine. Melanie is fine. She will come to me when she’s ready.”
“You don’t know that, Rob.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t. You weren’t there. Usually with you, she can just brush it off, but it’s different this time. I can feel it.”
“All according to plan.”
“Bullshit.” She shifts her stance. “You know, I don’t think you know any of us the way you think you do. I think you’re just making it all up as you go along.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yup!”
“Kinda like how I knew she’d run right to you and Nora after she found out?” I say. “After I just happened to forget my most prized possession on the back of her chair? After my seven-month coin just happened to roll out of the pocket at that precise moment?”
Trix’s jaw slowly drops. “You rigged it to fall out?”
“And how I…” I exhale slowly, furrowing my brow with a pained expression, “I’m just not ready to talk to her about it yet…”
“And then you, what, faked going to a meeting?” she asks in disgust.
“Oh, no. The meeting was real. I met my sponsor for coffee and we went together.”
“And what did they have to say about you lying about your sobriety to your ex-wife?”
I straighten up. “It was the best way for her to find out,” I say. “If I had just told her, she never would have believed me. I had to make it seem like she stumbled on it by accident, forcing me to come out before I was ready.” I point at Trix as her face screws up. “Don’t do that thing with your nose. You know I’m right.”
“Nope. I’m done.” Trix wrings her hands together as she beelines toward the door. “I wash my hands of this.”
I snort. “No, you don’t.”
“Oh, yes. I do.” She pauses by the door. “Omerta no more! I don’t want to be a part of whatever scheme you’re planning.”
“Oh, but you see…” I steeple my fingers, “you already are.”
She points at me. “Stop that.”
“It’s true, Trix. You know that Mel and
