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Yeah.
Of course, he wasn’t.
“Really? So, if I look around, I won’t find any bottles?”
He shut his mouth quickly and glared at me. “You don’t trust me.”
I let out a forced laugh. “Uh, no. I don’t.”
He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s real nice, Lex. My own wife doesn’t believe what I’m saying.”
I spotted his bag near the couch where he always left it.
I faked left, and instead, went right.
Fast.
“What the—” was all he got out before I’d effectively picked up and dumped out his bag.
Clothes, sweats, water bottles, money—
And pill bottles.
Lots of them.
I picked up one of the full bottles and read the sticker. “Wow, is Juan your given name? Or just a cute nickname I don’t know about?” I held up the bottle of pills that were so not prescribed to him.
He swiped them away from me and stuffed them into the pocket of his gray sweats.
Dammit I loved those sweats on him.
“I don’t know why you’re so fucking anal about this shit. It’s just pain medication. Honest to God, I don’t get what your problem is.”
Ouch.
His words cut me in so many raw places it was tough to breathe.
“Yeah, that’s right. I’m the one with the problem.” I stared into his handsome face, wishing life could be different.
Wishing I could believe him and his lies.
Wishing I didn’t know exactly how this story ended.
“Seriously, Lex, why do you have a problem with medication?”
Arguing with an addict.
This is what I had reduced myself to.
Again.
Dammit.
I’d promised myself so many times that I’d never, ever do this to myself.
And here I freaking was.
Looking straight into the eyes of a liar.
