“Penny for them?”
He looked up, a soft smile pulling at his lips. “I missed you so fucking much, and all I want to do is rail you against the nearest wall the second we’re inside your place, but I guess we should talk first.”
My stomach vaulted. There’d been a part of me that had worried his stint in rehab might damage our connection in some way. Those kinds of environments were designed to force you to examine things under a microscope, and I’d feared that when Joz examined me and him, he’d find that our relationship had been built on a lie.
“Yeah, we should.” The elevator dinged, doors silently gliding open. Joz ambled behind me as I pushed open the door to my living room. “Put your bag down anywhere. Do you want a drink? Coffee, tea, water?”
“Water would be good.” He left his bag by the couch and sank down onto it. I fetched two bottles of water and put them on the coffee table, then took the seat next to him.
“So, how was it?” I asked tentatively.
“Fucking painful.” He reached for my hand and knitted our fingers together. “I am so fucking sorry, Aspen. I let you down. I let your company down. I let myself down.”
“No, you didn’t. If you’d refused rehab or carried on using, then I’d have felt let down. Attending somewhere like that as an in-patient takes courage, Joz. Give yourself credit.”
“Not that easy to do.”
“Nothing worth having is easy.”
He stared at our joined hands and ever so slightly tightened his grip. “I did a lot of soul searching with the help of the staff there. I finally understand that what Caroline did was on her, and I couldn’t have saved her. If I’d taken her back, she would have continued the cycle. I learned it isn’t selfish to put myself first. I still feel fucking sad at what happened, and I hate that Arthur is growing up without a mum, but her suicide wasn’t my fault.”
Relief flooded me. Joz had held on to that belief for eight years, so for him to finally admit Caroline’s death wasn’t on him was, well, huge. I’d heard great things about that facility, which was the reason I’d chosen it, and it turned out they weren’t just great, they were miracle workers.
“That’s amazing, Joz. I’m so proud of you.”
He rubbed his lips together. “I told Doctor Houghton, my therapist there, that I’d like to keep seeing him either in person if I’m in the states, or over video call when I’m at home.”
“You liked him, then?”
He arched a brow. “Like is a stretch. He holds up a mirror, and often, I don’t like the reflection. But he’s shown me that sometimes I have to look at it anyway, to face the scary shit.” Hedetangled our fingers, reached for his water, unscrewed the top, and drank. “Did you find out anything on the diary?”
Nerves swarmed my abdomen. “I did, yeah.”
He sat up straighter. “Oh?”
I recaptured his hand, although I wasn’t sure if the anchor was for him or for me. “It was Presley.”
His back went ramrod straight. “What?”
“Stay calm. It’s dealt with.”
“But… how did he get hold of my diary? No one even knew I’d written it.”
“Someone did. According to Presley, one of the patients at the first rehab facility you attended discovered it, although Presley didn’t say how.”
“Fuck me.” He frowned. “Hang on. That doesn’t explain how Presley got hold of it.”
I tightened my grip. This could go either way, and I needed him to stay calm long enough to think through his emotions, rather than reacting straight off the bat. “Erin let him in.”
“What?” He yanked his hand from mine, running both of his through his hair. “What the fuck? Why?”
So much for that idea.
I shared what Erin had told me. During my recount, his expression switched from incredulous to shocked to downright angry. “That fucking bastard used my sister to get to me because I’m with you?”
“Yep. That about sums it up. She thinks you’ll hate her.”
“Hate Erin? Not possible. This isn’t on her. She trusted a fucking low life who used her.”
