I tilt my head, confused.
“When you were at your lowest, she enabled you. Gave you drugs as a way to escape. I know you said you asked for them, but…” His eyes search mine, steady and unwavering. “Any decent friend who knew you were struggling would have encouraged you to get help, not push you further in the hole.”
I let his words sink in.
Maria calls it avoidance coping.
Every pill, every drink, every high had the same purpose: create enough distance between me and my own thoughts that I didn’t have to feel them.
The problem was that the thoughts were always waiting when the numbness wore off.
And Ella was always there to give me more.
My stomach drops.
For so long, I told myself she was helping. That she understood my need to get out of my mind, even for a little while. But understanding someone and helping them aren’t always the same thing.
Cullen’s jaw is tight, but he doesn’t push or tell me what to do. He just watches me, hurt and hopeful all at once, waiting for me to figure it out myself.
The realization lands hard.
Not because Cullen is saying anything new, but because for the first time, I can’t find a way to argue with him.
Ella enabled me.
And I let her.
The thought leaves me nauseous.
I tighten my grip on Cullen’s hands. “I think…” my voice catches. “I think I need some distance from her. At least until I’m healthier.”
Relief flashes across his face before he can hide it.
“I’m not asking you to do that, Hud.”
“I know.” I glance down at our joined hands before meeting his eyes again. “But what you said makes sense. This is the right thing to do.”
The words catch in my throat.
Because this isn’t some random friend we’re talking about.
It’s Ella.
He lets out a sigh, his forehead touching mine. “You’re not doing this for me because I said I hate her, are you?”
I chuckle. “Of course I am.”
He frowns, brows pinched.
My thumb brushes his cheek. “I’m doing it because it’s the right thing to do. For me.”
His expression softens. “Are you sure?”
I shrug one shoulder. “As sure as I can be.”
He lets out a breath, the tension leaving his shoulders.
“I’ll talk to her today,” I say quietly. “Tell her I need some space while I focus on my therapy and getting better.”
