The memory stabs me in the chest. I should tell Gemma. Ineedto tell her. I need to tell her everything I remember about that night—which is honestly a load of bullshit glimpses that I’ve shoved so far in the back of my mind that the thought of digging them up feels like someone is slowly dragging a knife across the backs of my knees.
I don’t think I’m ready to tell her everything, and that somehow hurts even more.
“Tell me why again,” I say to Darcy after a few minutes, my gaze still on Gemma. “Tell me whyIcan’t numb this pain while everyone else can.”
My voice drifts with every word, to the point that I can barely stop my lips from curling downward.
Darcy toys with the elastic band on their wrist. “Did something happen?”
I bite the inside of my mouth, swallowing. “Something,” I say.
They sigh and nod, unwilling to push at my vagueness, and that’s one of the things I love about Darcy. They didn’t take me on to be someone who pries… but being there if I need a reminder or a nonjudgmental confidant… that, Darcy will do.
“You can,” Darcy says. “You can go to the store. You can get that bottle. And you can drink it. And then, an hour later, when the pain still feels the same, you’ll get another bottle delivered. And another. And another. At some point, you’ll probably hurt someone. Though… what does it matter, it’s just one more, right? And then, a year is going to pass by in front of your eyes, and you’re still going to think you’re on that couch asking for one more.”
“Just one more,” I say sadly. I meet their eyes when I blow out another audible breath. “Thank you,” I say.
Darcy nods. “You know all of this. You don’t give yourself enough credit. You know you’reactuallya strong person, right?”
“Ha. Most days I’m fully aware that I’m a piece of shit,” I say, and Darcy chuckles.
“That makes two of us,” they say.
I exhale as I meet Gemma’s eyes, and she smiles at me before pivoting to pace again, phone still to her ear.
“And this?” I ask, staring longingly at her. “This is a bad idea, right?”
“Horrible,” Darcy says, and I know they’re joking. “Still… you’re asking the right questions. You’re taking it slow. I’d be more worried if you had jumped in headfirst without checking the depth of the water.”
“So fucking deep,” I say, though the words sound breathless.
For a moment, neither of us speaks. I’m so consumed watching Gemma that I barely notice Darcy moving, and it’s only when I see them hold something out at me that I look down.
It’s a coin—a sobriety chip.
God, it’s beautiful.
There’s an engraved ocean, a high wave, and skulls embedded in the sand the water is running over. The sun hangs on the horizon, the sunset behind it. And on the back is the number two hundred and sixty inside a triangle, along with the wordsOne More Sunsetcurved along the bottom.
I blink back the tears stinging my eyes. “Darcy…”
“I know it’s a couple of weeks early—”
“Three,” I interject as I remember staring at the number two hundred fifty-seven on my bathroom mirror this morning. “Three weeks early.”
“—but I just wanted you to see it,” they go on. “I’m not giving it to you. I’m not jinxing the progress you’ve made. I just wanted you to see how fucking hard you’ve worked, Bonnie.”
I clench my jaw to keep myself from falling apart. “It’s that close,” I manage as my heart swells.
“You’re so close,” Darcy says.
The morning I had replays behind my eyes. The keys in my hands. The shoes on my feet. My hand on the knob.
I curl Darcy’s fingers back around the chip and nod when I meet their eyes. “Give it to me at two-sixty,” I say.
Darcy smiles softly. “It’ll be waiting for you.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Gemma coming toward us once again. I quickly wipe the tears from my cheeks—a poor attempt at looking like I’m not an emotional mess. However, despite the fact that I’m sure she can see my puffy eyes, she doesn’t say anything about it when she reaches us.
