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“I want it right now.”
“I don’t know if I can give you that.”
Panic seared me. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to lie to you,” he bit out. “I promise it won’t be like before.”
“No.” I shook my head, feeling my heart crack. “No, Joe.”
“Molloy.” Shoulders sagging in defeat, Joey released a resigned sigh. “I am what I am.”
There it was again.
That horrible fucking sentence.
I am what I am.
I hated those five words when they came from his mouth.
“Yes, and who you are is a hell of of a lot better than the person standing in front of me, reeling off excuses for doing something that he knows almost destroyed him before,” I snapped, hands planted on my hips, as I glared up at him. “You are a better man than this, Joey Lynch.”
“Maybe I thought I was.”
“You still are,” I protested, wrestling with my panic and pain. “You are better than the lifestyle you’re determined to fall back into, and you sure as hell are a better man than Shane Holland, and you know it.”
“This has nothing to do with Holland.”
“This has everything to do with him.”
“It’s not your fucking problem!” I watched as Joey inhaled a deep breath, clearly trying to rein in his temper and ran his hand through his hair before trying again, this time in a relatively calmer voice. “Listen, I don’t want to fight with you.” Closing the space between us, he placed his hands on my shoulders, and stared down at me. “I don’t want to hurt you, Molloy.”
“Well, you did,” I countered thickly. “You are hurting me, Joe.”
Pain encompassed his features. “I’m sorry.”
“But?” I managed to squeeze out.
“I’m just…” Shaking his head, he rubbed his jaw and blew out a harsh breath. “I’m having a hard fucking time inside my head right now, and I need you to just let me deal with it my own way.”
“By taking drugs?” I deadpanned. “By destroying yourself?”
“No.” He shook his head. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Yes, Joey, it is.” Tears filled my eyes. “And you’re asking me to turn a blind eye to it again.” My voice broke and I dragged in a quivering breath. “I did that before and it almost killed you and broke me. Now, you’re asking me to do that again, and I can’t. I can’t watch you lose yourself again. I can’t lose you again, Joe.”
“No, Molloy, that’s not what I’m saying at all. You’re not losing me, okay? I fucking love you. I’m yours to keep for as long as you’ll have me.” He stroked my shoulders with his thumbs, breaking my heart with the gentleness of his touch, which was a stark contrast to the slicing sting of his words. “I just… I need you to not hate me for getting through my shit in the only way I know how.”
“You know other ways,” I reminded him, tone laced with bitterness. “Better ways.” Ways that don’t risk your life and break my heart.
“Fine.” Joey expelled a pained breath, unwilling to look me in the eyes. “In the only way that works for me.”
“So, you’re not even going to try?” I choked out, feeling shredded by the sudden change in him. In his unwillingness to at least try. “You’re not even going to lie to me and pretend to try?”
“I am trying,” he argued, voice strained. “I will try. I will sort this, okay? I will, Molloy. I just… I need some time.”
“Some time to get high with your druggie buddies first?”
“No.” His tone was hard when he said, “I’m not going back there, I swear.”
