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My eyes burn from the tears building. “You know I do… but I can’t do what you’re asking.” I blink, and a single tear rolls down my cheek, falling to the sand below.
“Can’t get clean or can’t be with me?” he whispers.
“Both.” My chin falls to my chest and he drops his hand.
“That’s bullshit,” he says, pulling his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “If you wanted to, you could. You’ve never even tried. Am I not enough for you to try?”
“Of course you are. Don’t you see? I’m broken. And if we’re together, really together… I’ll break you too.”
He shakes his head, his vision focused on the dark ocean. “So, what’s your plan? Are we just going to keep fucking when the mood strikes you? When you get scared I’m moving in my own direction, you’ll pull me back in? How long will that last? Into our late thirties? Forties? Because at some point you’re either going to kill yourself by overdosing or I’ll move on. There’re things I want in life, Lilah. Are you too messed up to realize that?”
His words are like a closed fist to the face, but they don’t surprise me. Not really. They’ve been a long time coming, and Jimmy wore velvet gloves with me for years. The iron fist is due, but that doesn’t change the fact I need Jimmy in my life and if we cross that line, he won’t be anymore.
When I don’t say anything, he grips my shoulders. “Tell me why. Tell me why you won’t be with me after everything we’ve been through together. I know you love me. You can deny it if you wish, but I know you do.”
I shake my head; my chest constricts and tears stream from my eyes. Why is he pushing this so hard? “I can’t be with you because I care about you too much! We both know I’ll mess it up, and once we’ve crossed that line, there’s no going back. And then I won’t have you in my life at all! I’ll ruin you if I let you get any closer to the real me. I’ll destroy you and break your heart and it’ll never be the same between us again.”
Tendrils of anger weave throughout my body. At the same time, relief winds through.
He pushes himself up off the sand and looks at me with his arms out at his sides. “Are you fucking blind? You’re already gutting me here. Things are already changing between us and I know you feel it too.”
I grab my purse from beside me and stand as well, meeting him head-on. “Things don’t have to change! You’re the one who’s trying to change them.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of this shit? Of running from all your problems? Of drowning them with alcohol and drugs? Haven’t you figured out yet that that doesn’t work?”
My hand raises. His vision shifts to my open palm and back to me. I lower it knowing that as bad as I want to slap him, I never will.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snap.
“Hand me your purse.” Jimmy stretches his hand out between us. “Give it to me.”
“Why?” I step back, feeling as though I’m back in my childhood bedroom and the walls are slowly closing in around me.
“Give it to me.” He leans forward and reaches behind me to grab it.
“No!”
I don’t have time to move out of the way before he springs forward and snatches it from my hands. I reach to get it back, but he holds it up over his head. I jump up and down, trying to snag the strap, then I pull on his bicep, but he’s got six inches and a hundred pounds on me. I stop my hysterics and stand in the sand with my arms crossed, watching as he opens it and roots through my belongings.
“Christ, you’ve got an entire pharmacy in here.” He tosses bottles to the sand, one after the other. “I thought you said you were cutting back on all this shit?” He runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the strands.
The anger inside me reaches a boiling point. “Fuck you! You have no right to judge me. I wouldn’t be like this if it wasn’t for you.”
Jimmy’s face drops. The smallest hint of guilt and regret flash in his eyes before anger slashes all his features.
The second the words left my mouth, I regretted them. But I won’t take them back. I won’t show an ounce of remorse.
“That’s low,” he grinds out. “You know if I could take it back I would.”
Back when we were teens in Virginia, Jimmy dealt in order to make money. He’d head into town on foot, or hitchhike, whatever it took in order to sell to the townies. It’s how we paid for our bus tickets to LA in the first place. It’s also how I was introduced to weed, which eventually moved to coke and pills.
Jimmy was able to take them or leave them, but I instantly craved the sweet relief from the thoughts and memories I’d regurgitate in my head over and over. I know he feels guilty for it, I know that on some level he blames himself, but we’ve never discussed it and I’ve never gone so low as to use it against him.
Until now.
I’d still have my demons regardless of whether he’d put the first joint in my hand and I still would’ve found a way to drown them out. But he’s the one who’s pressing the issue about us.
“It’s not low, it’s true. If it weren’t for you, I never would have been introduced to that world, so don’t sit on your high horse and judge me. You’re not exactly squeaky clean yourself,” I spit out.
