I seehim.
My bottom lip trembles.
He’s sprawled out on his stomach, stretched across the bed like he’s been dropped there, barely covered, dressed in jeans and one lonely sock.
It’s like I’ve been smacked in the chest with a sledgehammer.
I stumble, the air sucked straight out of my lungs.
He’s clutching an empty bottle of Jack, gripping it like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to this world. On thenightstand, there is a dusting of white powder. Remnants of a high that’s long since burned out.
I don’t recognize him.
The man in front of me—the man I love—isn’t him.
Thisisn’tColt. Thisiswhat’s left of him.
From here, I see his ribs jutting out, his cheeks hollowed, his skin pale in an unnatural way. He looks like a ghost of himself.
A ruin.
A hand touches my back, grounding me for a second, and I glance over to see Anna smiling softly, offering silent reassurance.
But it doesn’t work.
It can’t.
A tear slips down my cheek, my heart breaking piece by piece.
“Do you want us to go?” Johnny whispers.
I widen my eyes and shake my head adamantly, then move over to the bed and sit next to him. I’m scared to touch him, but I hesitantly move my hand toward his head and slowly run my fingers through his hair. And with this one small gesture, I fall in love with him all over again. I lie down on the bed facing him, and he stirs slightly. When he rubs his nose, I freeze, his face twitching, but he doesn’t open his eyes. I move my hand to caress his face, which has a full beard.
My breathing slows as I take him in.
This man isnotthe same as the one I left.
He’snotthe Colt I know.
And that hurts me more than when he didn’t call.
His spark and energy have vaporized.
I lean my forehead against his. The smell of alcohol on his breath is overpowering, but I don’t care. He sniffs, and his arm around the Jack bottle moves and wraps around my waist, pulling me to him. I still, waiting for him to open his eyes, but he nuzzles into me instead. My breathing has escalated, and myheart rate is rising. I don’t know if I should say something or let him wake up on his own. I’m so out of my depth. I’ve no idea what I’m supposed to do. All I know is that the touch of his arm around my waist sends a shiver down my spine. The familiar surge I feel when he touches me is there, and it is making itself known.
I stare at his pale, gaunt face, and even though he looks terrible, he still looks beautiful.
Colt sniffs again, moving his hand from my waist to rub his nose.
I bite my bottom lip, waiting for him to open his eyes, but he doesn’t, and a slight pang of disappointment runs through me.
“Colt, wake up,” Anna says loudly.
I look at Colt and wait for him to open his eyes, but he sniffs again and then nuzzles back into me.
“No, Anna. I can smellher. She’s here, and if I wake up, she’ll be gone again. I can’t take it,” he says.
That voice!His deep timbre causes me to tingle all over.
