The doubt’s written all over his face.
“I didn’t get with you at Type 'cause I was bored with Ben,” I insist. “I wasn’t using you. It wasn’t about gettin’ off or scratchin’ some itch?—”
He lifts a hand. “I know, you?—”
“Andrew, please—” I say, shaky,
and he falls back.
“Let me say this.
“I need you to know it was real to me, alright?
“Every second of it.
“Everything I said on the rooftop?
“Was real.
“All of it.”
His eyes shut,
a breath spilling out,
as if he’s been holding it in for days.
“But this addiction…” I pause,
trying to get him to understand.
“It’s like being hungry all the time,
but nothing fills you up,
“and everything makes you sick.
“It doesn’t feel good. It feels necessary.
“And then it feels like hell.” I choke on the last word, turning my head to keep my eyes from watering. “So yeah… I uh—” I try to laugh the emotion away. “I built a system. The Baby Contract. Brought in Ben. Because without it? I hurt people. Like I hurt you.” I hold his eyes to keep the words from shaking. “The Baby Contract isn’t healthy. I know that. But it’s all I got and the only thing that’s safe and gives me control. It’s the reason I kept pushing you away.”
Andrew nods, absentminded,
his gaze slipping off me
and landing across the room,
into nothing,
thinking.
Then his eyes find mine again.
“That really enough for you?”
I flinch,
my mind trying to throw up a wall,
