“You are never a waste of my time.” Slowly, he turns me around. “Did you ever think that you’re bristling because of conviction? It’s okay to ask for help. From me and especially from God. You’re not meant to handle everything on your own.”
He tilts my chin up and brushes a finger along my jaw, freezing my reply. “Sometimes I can feel God guiding me in one direction, but I fight it, kicking and screaming because I want to do it my way and on my timeline. But we have to let Him have control.”
I take a step back. “No. I need my control. I’m fine, okay?”
His eyes soften into something close to pity.
“I mean it. I’m fine.” My voice trembles despite my resolve. “I’ve made it this far on my own.”
“Have you been on your own?”
“Tristen... I don’t want to do this right now.” My heart beats wildly in my chest, and I glance up at the rain cloud rolling in that matches my mood.
“I don’t mean to upset you. The opposite, actually—I care about you.”
He reaches a hand for me, and I step away so he grasps at air.
“If you really cared, you’d stop pressuring me. Let me figure this out when I’m ready.”
Nodding, he steps back, his mouth curled downward.
The face of disappointment. No matter what I do, all my choices always lead to this. Why do I even try to better myself?
I never cared what other people thought when I was drinking. It was easy that way, only worrying about what I wanted and what would please me. In fact, having a beer right now would take a lot of pressure off of me.I’m going to fail anyway...
No. No. No.I won’t listen to the stupid voice in my head. My hands start to tremble, and I walk backward, averting my eyes.
“I’m going to take a quick shower,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself. The urge to scrub the dark thoughts from my mind consumes me.
“Of course.” He opens his mouth then shuts it a few times. “I’ll light the pilot light for you so the water can start warming up. Gary said you have maybe five minutes of hot water.”
Stepping into the shower, hot water rushes over my body, almost too painful to handle. I lather up my hands and scrub my skin and scalp until it’s almost raw. Doubts from my past and memories of my granny bounce in my head. I rest my forehead against the shower wall, analyzing each thought and emotion. Were all these feelings because of what Tristen said? Did lowering my wall allow his words to pierce me? Why was this time so much more painful than before?
The water cools too soon, almost icy, but still I don’t move. Will I ever be clean enough? If Granny and her perfect life led to death, what hope is there for me? Or am I destined to always be a worthless drunk like my mother?
My shoulders shake, begging for that last one not to be true.
I don’t want these dark thoughts anymore.
I don’t want the weight of my failures always hanging around my neck.
I don’t want to lose my faith on top of everything else.
Maybe Tristen is right—I do need to ask for help.
Sniffling, I’m not sure when my own tears started to stream down my face to mix with the shower. The salty droplets rush over my lips as a battle wages inside of me.
“Reese?” Tristen’s soothing voice whispers from the other side of the cream-colored shower curtain. “Please don’t cry.”
Chapter Thirteen
TRISTEN
Amind-piercing shriek nearly blows out my eardrums, echoing in the confined space. I stumble backward into the bathroom door, knocking the towel off its hook and onto my shoulder.
“What are you doing in here?” she screams.
The shadow of her outline grows darker as she approaches the curtain. I swallow nervously and avert my eyes to the ceiling.
