My teeth clench in frustration. It’s times like this that I forget he’s only five years younger than my thirty-three. He seems so much younger when he gets in these moods.
“Benny, you need to talk to me.” It takes everything in me to keep my frustration from my voice.
His hands drop to his lap. “I want to go home.”
I press my lips together, trying to navigate this conversation. “I know you do. But considering what happened, I think you need to stay. I talked to your doctor, and she said you’re doing really well with your individual therapy and with your group sessions.”
“But I could do that in outpatient,” he complains.
My chest tightens. “No, Benny, you can’t. We’ve tried that.” I feel the control slipping when I bite out, “Hell, we’ve tried this. But here we are again. I need you to stayhere.” My voice rises with every word, and Benny’s eyes widen in response. “We can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep doing this,” I add on a whisper as tears slip down my cheeks.
Neither of us says anything for a few breaths.
Benny sniffs, his chin quivering. “I’m sorry, Olive.”
I shuffle across the room and climb on the bed next to him. Pulling him against me,, and his arms go around my waist, holding on tight. “I just want you to be okay, Benny. For good this time.” I smooth down his hair. “And I get scared because I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to help you.”
As if my fear for Benny’s sobriety isn’t enough, there’s the whole Marcus and drug dealing money issue. But I know Benny isn’t in a mental state where I can bring that up. Even a single question could send him spiraling. All I can do is hold him and hope that this time, my love and support are enough to keep him sober. I’ll deal with this other problem on my own and in silence.
“I don’t know how to do that either. But I want to try.” He sits up and looks me in the eyes. Our shared traumas swirl together. “For you. I want to try for you.”
I shake my head sadly. “No, Benny. I need you to try foryou.”
Steppingout of the doors of the facility, I suck in a lungful of air. The weight of that visit is suffocating me, along with the early summer humidity. What isn’t weighing me down is the few thousand dollars I left behind for my next installment payment for his treatment. I hike my purse higher over my shoulder as I cross the parking lot. I already made amuch smaller payment to Marcus before heading to see Benny.
Thank goodness, I have ramen noodles at home.
By the time I get back to my apartment, I’m ready to crawl back into bed for a nap. My eyes feel like they’re crossing with from emotionally depleted I am. It’s always like this in the weeks following a relapse. There are just so many emotions running rampant through my system that they take a physical toll on me. Add to that the feelings from the night with Nate, and very little sleep the last few nights, and I’m functioning on empty. I don’t bother changing before I’m under the covers, letting my mind wander.
A small smile lingers on my lips as my time with Nate replays in my mind again. Me against the wall. Him between my legs. His sweet words and gentle caresses. Just as I’m getting to the best part, Marcus’s pitying smile intrudes, reminding me of my fucked-up life.
Turning over with a huff, I try to get Marcus and his boss out of my mind, but they stay there, looming until I slip into an unsettled sleep.
I suck in a startled breath when my ringing cell phone rips me from my nap. Disoriented by the setting sun casting shadows across my room, I dig my phone out from where it slipped between the covers while I slept.
When I see the name, I connect the call. “Hi, Cade,” I answer as cheerfully as I can muster.
“Hey, babe. Come out with me tonight. I want to get dinner and drinks.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” I decide to be partially honest. “Money is a little tight right now. I should probably just stay home.”
“Absolutely not. It’s almost your birthday. It’s on me tonight. So, no excuse.”
“Cade, my birthday is in five months.”
“I said almost,” he answers matter of factly. “I’m not taking no for an answer. So you might as well start getting ready.”
I sigh and drop my chin to my chest. Cade can be very insistent, so I know there’s no winning this. “Fine, you win. I’ll go out.”
“Yay! Okay, I’m sending you a ride to pick you up so you can drink. Be ready in one hour.”
“Thanks, I owe you.”
“Yes, and you’re repaying me by not letting me be a loser who goes out by myself. Now, stop talking and go get ready! One hour, Olive. Do not be late!” And with those parting words, he disconnects.
I roll my eyes as I do as he demands.
21
