AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Caleb patted me on the shoulder, then pushed past me into his bedroom and started yanking on sweats and socks, and shoving his feet into his sneakers.
“I gotta go for a run,” he said, and his voice was tight, caught.
“Now, seriously!? I’m trying to talk to you about something important!”
“I—fuck, Theo, I hear you, okay. But you’re all jittery and manic because of the tour, and it’s not good to make these kinds of decisions in that frame of mind.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “And—and then you tell me it’s because of me, and I can’t. I cannot be the reason you leave the band and give up everything you’ve worked for!”
“I didn’t say that it’s because of you, I said you made it possible! And that’s just it—the band isn’t everything. I don’t want it to be. There’s you, and—”
“Don’t you see that you can’t fucking count on only me! You can’t do anything because of me. I have ruined every goddamned thing I’ve ever touched, let down every person who ever depended on me.” Caleb’s voice had been a roar, and he was clutching at his hair, his face white. He pushed past me to the front door, and when he spoke again his voice was shattered and he looked like a wraith.
“Do you know how likely it is that I’ll relapse? That no matter how hard I try it won’t be enough and I’ll fucking ruin everything? Because I’ve done it before. I’ve done it every time.”
He pulled the door shut behind him, and through the living room window, looking across the garden, earth freshly turned, I watched Caleb run away.
Chapter 20
Caleb
I was in a dark, deep well, and no one would ever find me. The sun rose and set and rose again, and I hung on by my fingernails, telling myself that the next day—the next—that’s when it would be better. Bearable. But I was drowning and I knew it.
I called Rhys to come and take my truck away, and when he was leaving with the keys, I stopped him, and gave him all my shoes to take away, too, so I couldn’t leave the house unless I wanted to walk somewhere barefoot.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered as I passed him the bag of shoes. I couldn’t even meet his eyes. He dropped the shoes and pulled me into one of his epic hugs, the kind that made you feel warm and buoyed, like you could let go and lift your feet and you’d still be held.
“Don’t ever apologize for doing what you need to be okay,” he said.
But still the shame trickled through me like ice water.
The next day, he showed up with groceries. One bag was just the basics—eggs, bread, peanut butter, cheese, turkey, and some veggies and potatoes (“Heaven forfend you can’t make your hash,” he explained). But the other bag was full of candy, cake mix, cans of frosting, chips, spray cheese, and ice cream.
When I raised an eyebrow at him, he held up his hands and said, “That’s from Matty. He said when you’re trying not to do one thing you’ve got to distract yourself with another. I told him you’d never had much of a sweet tooth, but he insisted.”
“Yeah, well, someone should tell him they’ve done experiments on mice and determined sugar’s more addictive than crack,” I said. Even as I spoke, I ripped open the bag of Sour Patch Kids and shoved some in my mouth. “But thank him for me, anyway. Jesus! These things’ll burn your damn mouth out.” The sour scrape of the sugar gave way to a soft sweetness underneath and I chewed the candy and swallowed. “Fuck my life,” I said, because I immediately wanted another handful. “This shit should be illegal.”
Rhys ate some. Then ate some more.
“That how it is now, then?”
“What?”
He opened the bag of potato chips and crammed some in his mouth.
“You,” he said, mouth full. “Afraid that everything you like means you’re addicted instead of just…I dunno. Appreciative.”
I snatched the chips away from him.
“Fuck off,” I said, but there was no heat behind it. I’d already said the same thing often enough myself.
“You killed it with Theo because…?” he prompted.
“I didn’t…Jesus, I didn’t kill it. I got overwhelmed. I…”
I ran away. And then I didn’t call. And then I kept not calling. And then I didn’t answer the phone.
“That’s for damn sure.” Rhys’s mildness irritated me and I started throwing the groceries into the fridge and cabinets.
“Oy, you’re gonna break the eggs, ya fuckwaffle,” he said, elbowing me out of the way.
I snorted at fuckwaffle, but Rhys’s expression was serious.
“Explain it to me, then,” he said. “You’re not afraid of commitment, you’re not interested in anyone else, you obviously love the shit outta Theo. So, if it’s not you having a panic attack at the idea that maybe you’re…dependent on him, and you think that’s bad because it’s addiction, then what?”
