I don’t say anything for fear of saying too much.
“And you should know that I support your decision about your mom. You were right. You know her best, and you know what’s best when it comes to her. I’m sorry I interfered.”
I nod, swiping a tear from my cheek. “That means a lot. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Just tell me you know that the last thing Ieverwant to do is hurt you.”
His stare burns a hole through me, but I don’t answer.
Ican’tanswer.
Because if hurting me was truly a concern, last night would’ve gone very differently. Starting with him not coming home drunk.
“Talk to me,” he beckons, but I’m still hesitant. I’m mentally and emotionally exhausted, and I don’t want to fight.
And what Iwantto say will definitely take us there.
“Blue…”
I take another breath, and this feels unavoidable. Like a tsunami surging toward the shore.
“I…”
His hand leaves my knee, and he laces his fingers with mine. “Just say it. Please.”
My chest tightens as I exhale and just… spit it out. “The drinking. You know that’s—”
My words cut off when West sighs. His grip loosens just a little. Just enough that I can sense his frustration.
“Why would you word it like that?The drinking.Like I drag my ass home wasted every weekend.It was one slipup, Blue. One night that followed a really shitty day and, yeah, I can admit that I needed to take the edge off.”
I hold my tongue, because to most people that might seem reasonable, but I see it differently. There were so many other ways he could’ve blown off steam. Yet, he chose to do the one thing heknewwas a dealbreaker from day one, and after our argument, it felt like it may have been to spite me.
“We’ll never see eye-to-eye on this,” I sigh, now matching his frustration.
His hand leaves mine, and I don’t make eye contact as he leans away, his weight settling against the back of the sofa.
“I swear, I can’t catch a fucking break.”
West’s mumbled words send a wave of instant regret rushing through me. He pushed, wanted to hear my thoughts, but the moment I open up, he’s on the defensive.
Air puffs from his nostrils as he pushes a hand through his hair, staring out the window.
“It’s like we weren’t in the same exam room yesterday. Like we didn’t hear the same news from the doctor. I mean, shit, football could be over for me. Do you get that?”
“Do I get that? West, I—”
I can’t do this.
I won’t argue with him again.
“This was a bad idea,” I say instead, confused how we keep ending up here.
“Me coming to talk to you was a bad idea?”
“I can’t speak for you, but lettingyou insure as hell feels like one,” I snap at him. “We can’t even say ten words to each other without it going to shit.”
“And that’s on me?”
