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Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(90)

Author:Lauren Asher

“I could talk to her,” Iris offers after hearing me out.

I rear back. “How would that help?”

“I could help her understand why you would keep a secret like that in the first place?”

My head shakes. “As much as I love you for wanting to help, I don’t think Lana would go for it, so I’d rather you not unless she reaches out first.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ve done enough damage as it is. Sending you there…I’d rather not risk upsetting her.”

Iris lifts a shoulder. “You’re the one who knows her best.”

Which is exactly why I’m worried.

“What if she doesn’t forgive me?” I voice my fear aloud.

She throws her arms around me. “I doubt you’ll stop until she does.”

I return her hug with one of my own. Despite my life blowing up around me, I always know Iris will have my back.

“I just want you to know that I’m so proud of you for taking initiative and getting help yourself.”

I swallow past the thick lump in my throat. “I haven’t even gone to rehab yet.”

“No, but your willingness to go in the first place shows so much progress.”

I lift my chin. “I’m doing it for myself this time.”

“That’s why it will work. You’re going to get better, and I’ll be rooting for you every step of the way.” Her genuine smile battles against the constant chill that has been present in my veins ever since I left the lake house behind.

With Iris’s help and Lana’s friends keeping an eye on her, there is only one last thing getting in the way of me confidently going to rehab and getting my life in order once and for all.

I never thought I would spend my thirty-fourth birthday voluntarily enrolling myself into rehab. It seems fitting with the way my life is going lately to spend it all alone, with nothing to keep me company but my endless thoughts about Lana and a bunch of fellow alcoholics going through various stages of withdrawal along with me.

No one at the facility acknowledges my birthday, which is fine by me. I honestly prefer it that way because I’m not the most pleasant company at the moment. Not having a single coping mechanism to distract me from my thoughts makes me anxious and uncharacteristically agitated with everyone I come into contact with.

No Candy Crush. No alcohol. No Lana and Cami to keep me company as I battle through therapy, group sessions, enough arts and crafts to drive me mad.

Despite being given my approved amount of Adderall, my brain doesn’t stop running, long after I am supposed to be asleep every night. I’m plagued by the decisions I made and how Lana might be reeling from them.

I didn’t mean to leave her alone with the fallout of my choices, but I didn’t have an option. Sticking around would have only hurt her more. Leaving was the best option, even if it screws me up inside to be apart from her and Cami.

It’ll be worth it.

The pain. The lack of alcohol to cope. The constant reminders of how I failed everyone around me because of my addiction.

Not anymore.

I make the same wish I did back at Dreamland, although I have no candle or cake to make it official.

I wish to kick my addiction for good.

51

ALANA

The dull throb in my chest hasn’t eased since Cal left two weeks ago. If anything, it only gets worse as the days go on. My attempts to keep myself busy only last for so long. With Cami at her friend’s house and Violet and Delilah busy with work, I have no one left to distract me.

Even the realtor and the general contractor have been quiet about the house. When I voiced my concern about a lack of interested buyers, both assured me that everything was going according to plan.

The silence in the guesthouse quickly becomes unbearable, leaving me to my own thoughts. My head is a pathetic place to be these days. A sad, miserable place that reminds me of a fact I hate admitting to myself.

I miss Cal.

It’s impossible not to when everything reminds me of him. Grocery shopping. Driving around town with my tires squealing. Spending thirty minutes scrolling for something new to watch only to settle on watching a competitive baking show we both have seen a hundred times.

Each day drags on at a snail’s pace. With me not working, my days mainly consist of taking Cami to camp and sitting around the house in case Ryder and the crew need anything from me.

Part of me wishes Cal would show back up, if only for me to be angry at him again. It’s a selfish thought that I dismiss in a matter of seconds, knowing that he is exactly where he needs to be. Yet still, I consider what it must be like to go through the process.

Is he struggling with any withdrawal symptoms?

Is he wishing he never went in the first place?

Is he talking through his issues and figuring out why he has difficulty staying sober?

The longer I think about everything he said before he left, the more I wonder if he was telling the truth. Calling the lawyer to find out would put the inheritance at risk, so I settle for the next best thing: Iris and Zahra.

We exchanged numbers before I left the night of Cal’s birthday dinner, but I hadn’t taken advantage of it until now.

Before I chicken out, I text them.

Hey.

Their replies come in at the same time.

Iris

What’s up?

Zahra

Hi!

I release a shaky breath as I hit send on my next message, which I spent ten minutes mulling over.

I was wondering if one of you could help clarify a few things for me about the will.

Iris’s reply is instant.

Iris

I can be there in forty minutes.

Forty minutes? How is that even possible from her house in Chicago?

Zahra

Ugh. Wish I could be there!

I busy myself with cleaning up the already-spotless house while I wait for Iris. The loud thrum of propellers interrupts me in the middle of scrubbing down the stovetop, and I rush outside to watch a helicopter land in my backyard.

“What the fuck?” I shut the door behind me.

I didn’t know it was legal to land in someone’s backyard.

Are you really surprised? This is Lake Wisteria. Anyone can be bought with the right price.

The moment the blades stop spinning, Iris dashes out of the helicopter. She rushes to the nearest set of bushes while clutching a hand to her mouth.

“Oh my God. Are you okay?”

She heaves once in a godawful reply. I wince as I help gather her braids in my hand to prevent them from falling in front of her face.

She throws up twice before being able to stand upright. “Well, that went a lot worse than I expected.”

“I have 7 Up and Alka-Seltzer inside.”

“Sounds lovely.” She wipes at her mouth with a frown.

I shuffle her into the house and find her a spare toothbrush. While she cleans her teeth, I pull out some snacks that my mom always said helped a sour stomach.

“You’re a lifesaver.” Iris drops onto the stool and pops a saltine cracker into her mouth.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Much. I wanted to drive, but Declan insisted on having me fly.”

“Why did he?”

She lifts a shoulder. “He thought it was safer.”

“More than driving?”

Her eyes roll. “I know. He’s a bit overbearing these days.”

I shoot her a look. “Hate to break it to you, but that’s how he’s always been.”

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