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This is what finally brought me back around.

After a few minutes of deep breathing, I got in the car. Turned on the engine, drove all over the small town.

Eventually I found a hardware store with a nursery that was still open. In the indoor garden section I found a hydro planter for herbs and cherry tomatoes. She liked to cook. She used basil and dill on her boards. I knew she’d like it.

I bought it. Got some wrapping paper at a gas station. Smuggled it into the cabin and wrapped it myself since by the time I got back Mike was already in the hot tub with everyone. I didn’t join them.

I was enabling him. I knew I was, I could accept this now. It wasn’t helping him, wasn’t changing his behavior. I was doing nothing but cleaning up his fucking mess, and I didn’t know how I was going to stop, because stopping meant letting her get hurt, and I couldn’t bring myself to let that happen.

I’d have to move. Leave Minnesota so I wouldn’t know what was going on because if I did, I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand any of it—not being here watching it or not being here at all.

I went to bed without telling anyone. I couldn’t face Heather after wasting her time, or Xavier, who knew my deepest secret, but most of all I couldn’t face Mike and Larissa.

Or the thought that I was failing them both.

38

LARISSA

Mike is so sweet,” Heather said, drying a casserole dish. “I love the planter he got you.”

“Yeah,” I said, not looking at her while I wiped down the counter.

We’d been at the cabin a full day. It was Christmas. We’d opened gifts an hour ago, the guys had cooked breakfast, and we were cleaning it up.

The men were outside getting the snowmobiles ready. They were all supposed to go snowmobiling in a half hour, and the rest of us were going to stay behind and do puzzles or something. I didn’t care. I wanted to leave. If I had my own car, I would have been gone yesterday. I’d even pay for a rideshare at this point if they had drivers up here.

I’d barely spoken to Mike since last night, which was hard because we were sharing a room. We were both faking that things were fine in front of everyone else. I’d opened the gift he got me and managed to smile and look like nothing was wrong. And to be fair, I did love the planter.

Sometimes it felt like I was dating two different people.

I couldn’t reconcile the man who was blackout drunk in his own urine a few days ago from the person who got me the thoughtful gifts he always came up with.

Mike hadn’t had a single drink since we talked. He’d turned down eggnog last night and mimosas at breakfast.

I didn’t.

For once I wanted to be the one who got to be buzzed all day long. I was so tired of always having to be in control. I never got to rest my brain. I didn’t get to check out mentally. I wanted to get wasted until I was completely useless. I drank everything I was handed last night until I stumbled off to bed.

I completely regretted it. I felt like crap when I woke up this morning. I don’t know how Mike—or anyone—could do this regularly.

Chris came in from the back deck. Woofarine jumped up from his spot on the floor by my feet to bounce at his ankles.

“We’re about to take off,” he said, hanging up his jacket.

Heather set her drying rag down to go over to him and gave him a quick peck.

Maybe it was the hangover, but I felt a little sick.

I excused myself for the bathroom. But I didn’t go to the bathroom. I went to the den and shut the door.

I just needed to be alone. I shouldn’t have come to the cabin. The second I saw Heather in the car, I should have turned around and gone back inside.

I should have done a lot of things.

Move in with literally anyone other than a man I’d been dating less than a year. I should have locked down my credit when Dad stole Mom’s identity.

I should have gotten a ride with Chris after the concert instead of Mike.