BooksBarbecue
Back Again, Rachel
Chapters (98)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. 92
  96. 93
  97. 94
  98. Acknowledgements

The spike of relief at learning that Carter was safe lasted no time—because suddenly I was worried about Luke. I tiptoed back into the bedroom and to my disbelief I couldn’t hear his breathing. I crept closer. He was lying unnaturally still, no rise and fall to his chest.

I put my hand on his stomach, sick with fear that he’d be cold. He was warm to the touch but if he had just died, then he wouldn’t be cool just yet…Suddenly he jolted awake and when he saw me looming over him, looked terrified. ‘Rachel! What the—’

‘Are you alive?’

‘Yes! What’s going on?’

‘Luke, did I kill her?’

‘What? Babe, no!’ He pulled me down into bed with him. ‘Of course you didn’t. We’ll talk about it in the morning. Let’s just go to sleep.’

Within moments he’d tumbled back into dreamland.

Our bodies were clammy and stuck to each other and he was snoring softly into my ear, every exhale lifting a lock of my hair. I tried to not hate him but it was hard.

When he woke at 7 a.m., I’d extracted myself from his embrace and was back watching telly. He wandered into the living room, looking at his phone, at the text he’d got from Olga Mae.

‘Babe, what’s going on?’ he asked.

So I told him about my fear that I was dangerous.

‘This is…so sad. None of this is your fault. But this can’t go on. You need to go back to Carlotta.’

‘What can she do?’

‘She’s a doctor. She must be able to prescribe you something?’

Luke was a lot more innocent than me. The thing was, I knew there was no sleeping pill that I could safely take.

Carlotta suggested antidepressants again, which might also help with sleep.

‘But I’m not depressed,’ I said. ‘I’m—I don’t know—grieving? Traumatized?’

‘I’m not sure the distinction really matters when you’re this bad.’

I considered it. But I wanted to see what Carlotta’s next offer would be.

‘I can refer you to a good grief counsellor,’ she said. ‘But the work will take time. Because you can’t sleep right now, how about I prescribe you a short course of Ambien? Used short-term, they’re not addictive.’

‘Maybe not for normal people, but for me, they…’ I hesitated. ‘…probably are. I’m an addict. Sleeping pills were part of my thing.’

‘Five pills,’ she said. ‘No more.’

It was so alluring. Five nights of blissful sleep. I’d feel so much more normal after them and surely I could manage to not get addicted in five short nights?