Page 99 of Everything But Mine

Val notices too. “If I genuinely believed he was in immediate danger to himself.” She holds me, but looks into Diego’s eyes. “I would tell you plainly.” She lets the words settle before continuing. “What you’re describing sounds much more like someone trying very hard not to unravel in front of people he cares about.”

“But what if he’s alone, making it worse?” I ask quietly.

“He probably is alone,” Val says honestly. “Because shame makes people isolate.” Her expression softens. “But isolation is not catastrophe.”

Diego exhales hard through his nose and darts his eyes.

Val’s words settle in my brain. It’s a body-centered approach that I believe in; grounding behaviors, emotional regulation, and practiced coping mechanisms. My breathing loosens by a fraction, enough for me to realize how tightly I’ve been holding myself together.

But the relief never reaches my chest.

Because Val is talking about Eric like a patient, she trusts him to follow a treatment plan. And he isn’t a patient to me… He is—my heart hammers. I press my palm harder against the tight ache in my stomach, and the movement only sharpens the fear curling through me. Therapy explains the behavior. It doesn’t make waiting for him any less unbearable.

“And if it isn’t working? What then?” Diego challenges her.

Val clicks her tongue and meets my eyes, waiting for me to defend our field, her expertise. She doesn’t flinch when I avert her gaze.

“Believing he can do this is part of supporting him.”

Diego shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Val,” he says, eyes softening with sadness. “There’s always time for that after. But if—” His voice cracks. “I’m not betting his wellbeing on your assessment.”

Val’s lips part slightly around a sharp inhale, and she blinks twice before she nods.

“We’re going?” Diego asks me, leaving her out of it.

I nod, grabbing my bag and phone.

At the door, he glances back. She lifts a hand to stop him from speaking.

“I’ll stay here,” she says. “Let you know when he comes back.” She licks her lips. “He might even need to talk.”

Diego opens his mouth, but I nod and push him out of the apartment.

The drive to the climbing gym is quiet but filled with Diego’s hope. Apparently, if you slip the overnight guard in the complex a hundred dollars, he’ll let you stay after hours. My heart hammers in my chest, and my hands are clammy with cold sweat. Once we make it to the deserted parking lot, I wait for Diego to come back and confirm what I already know. He isn’t here because Eric’s at a bar.

When Diego sinks back into the driver’s seat, he exhales heavily. “Amand⁠—”

“We have to go to PhD next.”

Diego’s eyes widen. PhD is a cheap dive bar east of the university building where we both have offices.

I nod. “It’s the bar he goes to.”

Diego reaches over the console and gives my thigh a light squeeze. “You think he’s…” Diego swallows.

Drunk out of his mind. “Yes.”

He gives my thigh another squeeze before starting the car. “I will go in. In case he’s—” He swallows. “In case he’s doing something you don’t want to see.”

Diego talking about it makes me want to throw up. I laid beside Eric, his fingers in my hair and his eyes plagued with self-loathing and regret, while we spoke of what he did.

I shake my head, voice sharper than necessary, like his right turn, and add. “I don’t think that’s what he’s doing.”

Diego’s gaze fills with pity, his eyelids drooping at the corner as problem-solving takes a back seat for a few seconds. His grip on the gear stick tightens until his knuckles are pale.

“Amanda,” he says gently. “If he’s doing this again… It’s time to cut your losses.”

I swallow and look at my fingernails on my lap. “You mean if he’s fucking someone else hours after kissing me again?”