He moved to the kitchen to scoop food into Bear’s bowl, and I wandered to the living room, settling on the couch. There were more sketches pinned to the wall. A couple empty mugs. A leather jacket draped across the armrest. And something about being here, just the two of us, no noise, made my chest tighten.
Nick came back a moment later and sat beside me, elbows resting on his knees, fingers toying with the rings he always wore. He didn’t say anything right away. Bear curled at our feet. It almost felt… domestic.
Then, almost under his breath, Nick said, “I almost drank yesterday.”
Everything stopped. Juststopped. I blinked at him, brain scrambling to catch up. Words got stuck somewhere between my chest and my throat. I wanted to sayAre you okay?orWhat happened?or literally anything helpful, but my brain just sort of… spun. He didn’t look at me, just stared straight ahead like he was confessing something to the wall.
“I was standing in the liquor aisle,” he continued, voice rough like gravel, “just about to grab the bottle. I kept thinking… Just this once. One night. One drink. One chance to shut it all off and feel numb again.”
I nodded too fast. It was a habit. When I didn’t know what to say, I nodded. It was fake reassurance for both of us.
“I didn’t buy it,” he said. “But I wanted to. I really wanted to. But it never really is justone nightorone drink. It’s an addiction. A binge that will ruin everything I worked so hard for to begin with.”
There it was again, that panicked flutter ofsay something, say something, SAY SOMETHING, even though my brain was frozen on the image of him alone in that aisle, carrying all of that pain by himself.
“Why did you want to drink?” I asked softly.
Nick let out a slow breath, one that sounded like it hurt on the way out.
“I don’t know,” he said at first. Then shook his head. “That’s a lie. I do.” His hands curled into fists on his thighs. “I was thinking about you.”
That caught me off guard. My breath hitched.
“I kept picturing you walking away,” he said quietly. “Wondering how I got so fucked up that I couldn’t even ask you on a second date. And even if I did, I figured I’d end up screwing it up somehow.”
He shook his head slightly. “It felt easier to fall back into the version of me that doesn’t care. The one who doesn’t feelanything.” He finally turned to look at me, and the rawness in his eyes stole my breath. “That version doesn’t get hurt,” he said. “He just drinks until everything goes quiet.”
I swallowed. “What stopped you?”
His eyes met mine. “You.”
My heart lurched. My brain tried to find something. Anything that wouldn’t come out sounding small.
“I get it now,” I blurted. “Why you said no strings. You didn’t think you were safe. For me. Or for yourself.”
His expression faltered, like he hadn’t expected me to understand. “I told myself I’d ruin you. That you’d wake up one day and see I was just another screwup with a good jawline and a past he doesn’t talk about.”
“You think you’ll ruin me,” I said slowly.
“I’ve ruined plenty,” he said flatly.
“Okay, but you haven’t ruined me,” I snapped. “Sorry, I just… I hate when people think I can’t handle hard things.” My heart was pounding. “I know I talk too fast and feel too much and overthink literally everything—” I exhaled, trying to catch up with my thoughts. “But if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s this: I don’t want perfect. I wantyou. Even when it’s heavy. Even when it’s messy and dark and weird. Even if all we had was one great night, something about it wasreal.And fuck the strings.”
He blinked like I’d knocked the wind out ofhimthis time. “I didn’t drink,” he said again, softer now. Like he needed to hear it out loud.
“You didn’t drink.” I reached for his hand before I could talk myself out of it. Probably squeezed too hard. I always did that. I never knew how to do things halfway.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted. “I want to stay, but I’m scared.”
“I don’t care if you’re scared, Nick,” I whispered. “I’m scared too. Stay scared. Just don’t shut me out while you’re doing it,because I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere just because you’re human.”
He closed his eyes and leaned forward until our foreheads touched. “Okay,” he breathed. “Okay.”
And for once, I didn’t feel like too much.
Eight
Nick
