“And was she dating Loren Hale at the time, the heir of Hale Co.?” the news anchor asks.
“Lily, come on, love,” Lo pleads, kissing me stronger. “I’m right here.”
“Yeah,” Mason says. “She’s cheated on him this whole time.” The news anchor wears a look likewhat a poor bastard. I feel so sorry for him.
I turn my head from Lo, crying, my lips separating from his as I bury my head into my knees.
“Lily.” His voice breaks.
What have I done? I didn’t realize that my addiction would hurt him if it became public. He’s now the sad sap who was fucked over by the slut. By me. How do I make thisright? There’s no way to change this. How do I erase years and years of mistakes?
I want to go back in time. I want to tell myself that I don’t need to sleep around to satisfy this emptiness in me. That the guy I love is right there in front of my eyes. That he can be more than a friend. That I don’t need anyone else in the whole universe but Loren Hale.
And if I had just done that, everything would have turned out right.
I would not be sitting here listening to my past mistakes. I would have spent four years with Lo like I’m doing right now. Committed. Fulfilled.
Happy.
My voice is stolen, and the words stay in the back of my throat. But I manage to say something.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, muffled into my knees and incoherent with my sobs.I’m so fucking sorry, Lo.
He rubs my back. “Lil, it’s okay.”
It’s not okay.
Someone finds the remote because the voices silence. My phone vibrates manically on the floor, and I cover my ears with my arms now, a ball that cannot be unfurled. The noise pierces me, each rumble is anotherslutorwhorethat I have yet to read.
I truly want to disappear. I want my superpowers to kick in, right now. I want to never, ever exist again. I want Lo to live in a world where I don’t hurt him.Please, someone, make that come true.
Lo untangles me a little. He kisses my forehead and tries to let me cling back to him and not my bony legs. I slowly crawl onto his lap and press my cheek to his chest, listening to his unsteady heartbeat. I remain hidden, not vacating the safety of Lo’s shirt and avoiding the look of hurt and betrayal on Daisy’s face that I am sure exists tenfold.
I should have just told her on the beach.
And I don’t know what propels me to do it—maybe thinking that one simple thing, maybe feeling the regret—but I pop my head from my burrow. “Daisy?” I look around and find her standing by her chair.
She is crying.
And I’m not sure if it’s because I am or because she’s mad at me.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I meant to tell you.”
“It’s true?” she asks, wiping her face quickly like Lo had, not wanting me to see. It’s as though they can’t cry because I am. I hate that. It makes no sense, and it drives me to dam my waterworks sooner rather than later.
“I’m…” I can’t say it.Whycan’t I just say it? My sister deserves more than me weeping and hiding away. I wipe my nose with the back of my arm and sit up straight. I slide from Lo’s lap, but he intertwines my fingers with his. It helps. It makes me not want to drown so much.
“It’s okay,” Daisy says what Lo has been repeating. She rubs all of her tears. “It’s fine, you don’t have to explain.” Daisy hates to see people upset. I forgot that about her. She just wants everyone to be happy.
But all the pain that it’s going to take to admit this to my sister—I need to feel it. Telling Rose was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but this is worse. Because I told Rose on my own accord, but in this instance, someone has played my hand, forcing me into it.
There is no compassion in telling her my secret. It’s just…necessary.
Very softly, I say, “I’m a sex addict.”
Her tears have dried up. And she nods. My strong, fearless sister. “And Mom…does she know?”
I shake my head once.
