Addicted to You (36 page)

I cringe at everything. “You don’t know what I am.”

Rose glances over her shoulder. “Leave us,” she tells Connor. He doesn’t hesitate before disappearing down the hall. Swiftly, Rose spins back and clasps my hands in hers. I try to jerk away.

“Stop,” I say.

She holds tighter. “I am right here. I am not going anywhere.”

Tears well up. She should leave. I’ve tortured her enough.

“Look at me,” she pleads.

Hot tears scald, sliding slowly down my cheeks in fiery lines. I can’t meet her gaze.

“You cannot get rid of me, Lily. Nothing you do or say will make me leave. If you don’t tell me now, then I’ll hear of it in a year…”

“Stop,” I cry.

“…three years, five years, a decade. I’ll wait for you to tell me.” She’s crying—a girl who never cries, who squirms at the sight of tears and a wailing baby. “I love you. You’re my sister. That will
never
change.” She squeezes my hands. “Okay?”

Everything surfaces. I break into sobs, and she rushes into my arms, holding me tightly on the chair. I don’t say I’m sorry. I have spoken enough empty apologies to last a lifetime. This has to mean something.

I break from the embrace first, but we share the recliner, sitting close. She keeps her hand in mine, waiting while I form what feels impalpable. “I…I always thought something was wrong with me.” I swallow, my mouth cottony. “I try so hard to stop, but I can’t. And being with Lo, I thought it’d make everything better. I thought there would be no more bad nights, but it’s just a different kind of bad.”

Her breath goes. “Is it drugs?”

I let out another short laugh, tears dripping. “I wish; then it’d make more sense.” I inhale. “Don’t snicker, okay?”

“Lil,” she says. “I wouldn’t.”

“Lots of girls would.” I meet her eyes. “I started having sex when I was thirteen.” I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, feeling small all of a sudden. “I’ve had more one-night stands than birthdays…” I open my mouth, ready for the next wave of truths but I stick to those.

“You think you’re slutty?” she wonders with a frown. “I wouldn’t judge you because you lost your virginity so young.” She lifts my chin with a finger. “One-night stands do
not
make you a slut. Sexuality is a part of human nature. No woman should be slandered for experiencing it.”

“It’s more than that, Rose.” Although, I could have used her empowerment years ago when I tossed and turned in bed, believing I should wither away before I touched myself, that masturbation was something for the boys. All the young girls said as much. They avoided the word, shunned those who so much as mentioned it, as though only guys can be the ones to touch girls’ aching flesh. Now it seems so ridiculous.

“Explain it to me,” she says.

“I’ve chosen sex over family functions hundreds of times. Even when I know it’s wrong, I keep doing it. Before I was with Lo, I used to convince myself that I’d stop all of the time. The next morning, I’d pop up another porn site. And I’d start all over again.” My arms tremble. “What does that sound like to you?”

Her eyes stay wide in thought. “You’re addicted.”

I wait for her to laugh or to convince me that I made it all up.

“Lily,” she says, very softly. “Do you know how this started—why you’re like this?” Her cheeks concave. I read her thoughts.
Were you molested? Abused? Touched by some distant uncle of ours?
I’ve sat and wondered for hours if I’ve repressed some traumatic event, but I always come up blank.

“Nothing happened to me. I just started. It made me feel good. And I couldn’t stop.” Isn’t that how most addictions begin?

“Oh Lily.” Tears build in her eyes again. “You were assaulted…does this play into your addiction somehow? Has this happened before?”

“No, no,” I say quickly, trying to bed her tears. My eyes already start burning again. “This is the first time, and it’s partly my fault. I…I sent the guy the wrong message. I’ve never been monogamous before, and this is the first instance that I’ve slipped up.”

Rose’s clutch tightens. “No,” she forces, jostling my hands in hers. “You are so wrong, Lily.”

“You don’t understand—”

“You’re right. I don’t understand your addiction, not yet. It’s very new to me, and I’m still trying to process it, but if you said or gave him any sort of impression to go away, then he should have listened.”

Ryke said the same thing. “I should feel upset about it,” I say. “This should change me in some monumental way, shouldn’t it?” But why do I feel so numb?

“I think you’re in shock,” Rose murmurs. “Do you need to see someone? I have a good therapist.” She scans the room for her purse.

“No, I don’t want to go to a shrink.”

“So you want to live like this? You don’t want to try and curb your addiction?”

I shrug. “I’m okay.” Or at least, that’s what I’ve convinced myself. “Lo is here. As long as I have him…”

Her eyes suddenly darken and I see the gears clicking in her head. She’s far too smart to let something as big as
this go
unnoticed. “You said you both were bad people. You’re helping each other keep secrets, aren’t you?” And then it hits her. “Oh my God, Lily. He
never
stopped drinking, did he?” When I don’t answer, she leans back in the chair, touching her lips. “Why hadn’t I noticed? He said he stopped partying because you didn’t like it. That was all a lie.”

“We’re okay,” I say for the millionth time.

“No, you’re not!” she shrieks. “You’re not okay. He got wasted at a bar and passed out while a guy assaulted you!”

My face cracks. “It’s okay,” I whisper. Tears flow full-force now. The waterworks pour while I stare at my hands. “This system works. I know you don’t see it, but it does.” I wipe my eyes but they keep coming. “And…and everyone’s better off. Lo and I, our addictions only affect each other. And we’ve learned to deal with it.”

Her mouth falls. “You think pushing your family away is the better option? This affects us. No matter what you choose, Lily. You know why? Because we all
love
you. Dad asks about you every day because he knows you won’t answer his calls. Mom has a stack of self-help books on her dresser. Want to know what they’re about?”

I shake my head. Not really. This is going to hurt.

“How to reconnect with your daughter. How to build relationships with your children. You affect them. Your addiction affects them. Missing parts of our lives isn’t a solution, it’s a problem.”

I understand what she’s telling me. I hear the words, and they make a great deal of sense. But what’s my alternative to satiating this addiction? Getting help? Kicking it? How do you eliminate something that’s a part of life? I can understand being sober, but being celibate? It’s unnatural.

Rose must see me processing because she adds, “You start with counseling and someone who has been through this before.”

“I want to wait to talk to Lo,” I tell her. I’m not sure I’m ready to give up my crutch, even though I know it’ll make everyone else happy. I hate myself for it, but stopping sounds beyond my reach. “I’m going to go to bed.” Mechanically, I rise from the chair.

She follows suit. “I’m spending the night. I’ll be on the couch to give you some space.”

“You don’t have to stay. Really, I’m…” She gives me a sharp glare and I rephrase my automatic response. “…I’ll be okay.”

She nods and tucks my flyaway hair behind my ear. “I know you will. I’ll see you in the morning, Lily.” Before I pull away, she wraps her arms around me, squeezing harder, holding tight. “I love you.”

I almost start crying again, but I bottle the feelings.
I love you too.
“I’ll be okay,” I murmur. With this, I disentangle from her and glide to my room. My head has finally separated from my body.

It takes me hours to shut off my brain and fall asleep, to stop the endless tracks where I bounce between justifying my actions and condemning them. Sometimes I think Rose is right, that maybe therapy would be good for me. But some medical physicians barely even consider sex addiction a real thing. What if I end up at the mercy of a shrink who scorns me and makes me feel even more worthless?

Plenty of other reasons bomb my mind, keeping me firmly on a destructive loop. And when I finally wake, I watch the red glowing numbers change on my digital clock. Weighed down by a strong force, it feels too strenuous to lift my numb body from the mattress.

I hear Rose crack the door and peek into my room every so often, but I feign sleep and she slips out just as quickly. So much has changed in the past twenty-four-hours that I’m struggling to grasp onto something familiar. Lo, my one constant, will no doubt hear about the events last night. I wish they would come from my lips, but it’s already mid-afternoon and I still can’t pry myself from the sheets.

Curtains encase my room in total blackness, refusing to let in a shred of light. The only source belongs to my glowing phone as I search Tumblr for naughty photos, but it only makes me sick to my stomach. I don’t stop. Not until the door opens. I quickly click off the screen and close my eyes, pretending to be asleep.

Concentrating on the footsteps, I wait for Rose to leave again. The door closes, and I let out a breath before returning to the pictures.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

I jump at the deep, hollow voice and quickly yank the dangling cord on the lamp. The room illuminates and Lo squints in the dark. Eyes pink and swollen, and hair matted like he’s been pulling at it in distress. They must have told him what happened. As I assumed.

He stays firmly against the wall beside my dresser, putting a great deal of distance between us. I try not to overanalyze what it means, but it hurts regardless.

“I’ve managed to fool everyone this long,” I say under my breath. “What gave me away?”

He licks his bottom lip before saying, “I asked Rose if you had your TV on. She said it was pitch black in here. So I knew you must have woken up and turned off your porn.” Almost every night I fall asleep to videos playing in the background. Most of the time on mute.

“That doesn’t make me a bad liar,” I refute softly. “That just means you know me too well.” I slide up on the bed, resting against the oak headboard and pulling my knees to my chest. “I had to tell Rose everything.”

“I know.” His expression stays inscrutable, not letting on if it bothers him. So I make the leap myself.

“I think it will work out. She doesn’t seem like she’ll tell anyone else. And she said that she’d give me as much time as I needed.” That’s what she was getting at, right? “And with Rose, that could be forever. So we’ll just move on from last night and everything will go back to normal.” I give a self-satisfied nod to seal the proclamation.

But Lo doesn’t reciprocate my confidence. He clenches his jaw and tears well up, turning his eyes to a puffier pink. “Do you really think I can just move on?” He chokes. “Let it go like any other fucking day?”

Oh… “We have to try,” I say in a small voice.

He laughs sadly and it cracks and dies short. He wipes his mouth and lets out a breath. “Ask me.”

“What?”

His eyes flicker up to me and they turn into cold steel. “Ask me why I drink.”

A lump lodges in my throat. We don’t talk about our addictions. Not outright. We bury them with booze and sex and on the occasion where we feel lost we return to the nostalgia of comic books.

Fear steals my ability to form words. I think I know the answer, but I’m so terrified of changing the structure that we have in place. My constant.
My Lo
. I selfishly don’t want that to end.

“Goddammit, Lily,” he says through clenched teeth. “Just fucking
ask
me!”

“Why?” The word knifes me.

A tear escapes and he says, “Because I can. Because when I was eleven-years-old and tasted my first drop of whiskey, I thought it’d bring me closer to my father. Because I felt empowered.” He touches his chest. “Because I never hit anyone. I never drove. I never lost a fucking job or lost any friends that mattered. Because whenever I drank, I didn’t think I was hurting anyone but me.”

He takes a shallow breath and rubs a shaky hand through his hair. “That is, until last night. Or maybe for the past two months. Or forever. I don’t know anymore.”

I strangle my sheets in my fists and try to remember to inhale. “I’m okay.” I cringe. “I’ll be okay, Lo. You didn’t hurt me. It was just a mistake. A bad night.”

He pushes off the wall, gaining confidence somewhere and sinks down on the edge of the bed. Still far from me. His eyes pierce mine as he says, “You’re forgetting that I know all the tricks, Lil. How many times have you repeated those words to yourself, hoping they’d come true? I do the same thing to justify every shitty night.” He scoots forward and I’ve petrified, going still as a piece of wood. His fingers graze my bare kneecap and his face cracks like it’s painful to touch me. “But I don’t want any more bad nights with you.”

“Did Rose put you up to this?”

“No.” He shakes his head. He gently rests his hand on my leg without looking so tortured, and I let out another strained breath. “I should have been there. I should have stopped the guy. I should have held you in my arms and told you that everything is going to be okay even if it wasn’t. That was my job, no one else’s.”

“Where does this leave us?” I ask.
Please don’t leave me,
I selfishly think. It may be one of my more abhorrent thoughts yet. I bury my head in my arms as the tears avalanche. I can feel him leaving me, drifting away like a breeze.

“Hey, look at me.” He touches my arms and tries to untangle my cave. I tilt my chin up after he succeeds. He crosses my arms and keeps his hands tight on my elbows, his chest so close to mine.

His eyes start watering again, and I’m suddenly terrified of what he’s about to say.

“I’m an alcoholic.”

He’s never said that out loud, never admitted it in that way.

“My father is an alcoholic,” he continues, tears spilling down his cheeks and onto my arms. “I can’t just will it away like some fairytale. It’s a part of me.” He rubs my tears with his thumb. “I love you, but I want to love you enough that I
never
choose alcohol over you. Not even for a moment. I want to be someone you deserve. Who helps you rather than enables you, and I can’t begin to do that until I get help for myself.”