Miserable summer?
I ignore the sharp pain reverberating through my body, knowing he can’t possibly mean that after everything we have shared together. “You seemed okay whenever I asked about it.”
“Because I took enough Oxy to make me feel that way.”
I take a deep breath. “Okay. Well, now that I know, I can make sure you get help. You’re not the first person to struggle with an opioid addiction after an injury.” My voice remains light despite the heaviness weighing me down.
“I don’t want help.” He pulls away before pressing the vodka bottle against his lips and drinking some more.
I snatch it away from him. “You’re better than this.”
The muscle in his jaw ticks. “Am I? Or are you too blinded by your love to see the real me?”
My vision blurs. “I’m not blind.” Hopeful, sure, but not oblivious to the issues happening here. I just thought we could work on one problem at a time, starting with his depression.
“Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be, Alana.”
The hole in my chest widens at his use of my full name, the singleletter adding distance between us. “No. Don’tAlaname. I’m not going to give up because you’re afraid. We can get through this together.”
He shakes his head. “You’re not understanding me. This is over.”
“What is over?”
“Us.”
I lift my trembling chin. “No.”
He releases a heavy breath. “What we did this summer…all of it was a mistake. A huge one I made because I was too drunk and high to know better.”
The crack in my heart widens until I’m afraid it might break in half. “You don’t mean that.” My voice quakes.
“I do.” He zips up his suitcase and places it on the wood floor, leaving a few pieces of clothing scattered across his bed.
“I refuse to believe that.” I jump off the bed and step between him and the door.
“Ignoring the truth won’t make it any less real.”
“Then say the truth! Stop with this bullshit about us being a mistake! I know how you feel about me. Aboutus.”
He might have been high for some of it, but I know he meant all the things he confessed. The future he painted of our lives together. The promises he made to me about his love. The wishes he had about us and the family he wanted to have one day.
His eyes shut. “I wish I had never come back here. It was selfish of me when you’re the last person I ever wanted to hurt,” he whispers as he clutches onto the handle of his luggage.
“You told me you wouldn’t ever leave me.” He promised. It’s the only reason I let him shatter our friendship with a single kiss. Because I was just as invested in our future as a couple as he seemed to be.
He looks up at me with cloudy eyes. “I’m sorry.”
The fight leaves me along with any hope of him staying. “You want to leave?”
Say no.
He nods. This time, the throbbing sensation in my chest is numbed by something far stronger.
Anger.
My hands curl into fists. “Fine. Then don’t ever bother coming back.” I’m not sure what would happen to me if he did, so I would rather not find out.
His jaw ticks again. “Is that what you want?”