40. Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Lisette
M y relationship with Sire is weird. When we were younger, it was a best friend thing with a mix of trauma bonding.
We turned to each other for everything until four years ago when he relapsed. I was being overbearing and trying to help, he said things he didn’t mean, and the last four years were so weird for us. We stopped turning to each other when it came to our addiction, and it fucking sucked until he invited me here for breakfast and apologized.
Now I’m the one apologizing, and I don’t like being on this side of the table.
When the bell rings, I look up and Sire walks in like he owns the damn building. I roll my eyes as he flashes his boyish grin at everyone who turns their head to look at him.
“What do I have to do to bring your confidence down ten notches?”
A smirk grows on his face as he slides into the booth across from me, leaning his arm across the back of the booth. “Either cut off my arm or my dick.”
I break into a laugh and he kicks me from under the table when I get too loud. “Baseball and sex is where you get all your confidence from, huh?”
“Baseball and sex with Vidia is where I get all my confidence from.”
“You didn’t need to add that.” I cringe and he laughs from across me. “How was Thanksgiving with her family?”
“Perfect,” he answers sincerely. “I know I already won her mom over and I still try to kiss her ass, but it felt easy being with her family this weekend.” He sighs now, a huge smile on his face as he lights up.
“They all sound like Vid when they speak Spanish. It’s beautiful, and the food? Amazing. I made her help me practice my bachata for hours before going over and when I danced with Vidia in front of them, they said I’m Dominican by association. I love them.”
A smile grows on my face at how obsessed he is with his girlfriend and her culture.
“Nice spot you picked.” He looks around the room as if it’s his first time seeing the place and I sink in my seat.
“I haven’t been treating you fairly,” I mumble.
“I agree.” His eyes meet mine and I give him a knowing look.
“Don’t make this harder for me.” I roll my eyes before sitting back up and the words slip past my lips. “I’ve been lying to you. I’m not fine. I feel myself slipping, Sire. Every time I feel like drinking or getting high, I can feel myself caring less and less about the consequences. There genuinely feels like no point and I’m scared.”
I feel my throat tightening at the confession, but force myself to keep a brave face on.
“Are you sober?” he asks gently.
“Yeah.”
He watches me carefully, and I can see him hesitating to ask if I’m sure, but he never does.
“What are we thinking?” he asks. “Do we want to get professional help or—”
“No.” I quickly shake my head. “I don’t want to.”
A sympathetic look covers his face, but I shake my head more firmly.
“I mean it. No rehab. No types of facilities or getaway camps.” I quickly blink my tears away. “Going away means this is bad and out of my control, and I don’t want to admit it’s that bad. I don’t want to go away.”
He nods gently in return.
“I’m sorry for getting so mad about you caring,” I start, Jackson’s voice in my head. “I scared you and you don’t trust me, and I get that. I was just mad that you didn’t believe me when I said I was okay because I needed someone to believe me. I need you to believe I’m going to be okay.”
He rises from his seat before slipping beside me. When he wraps his arm around me, I realize my tears haven’t stopped.
“I believe in you,” he whispers against my hair. “I know you’re not okay right now, but I believe you’re going to be okay. You’re the strongest person I know, Lis. If you’re not going to be okay, I may as well end it all now.”
I break into a laugh before shifting in my seat so I can hug him back. We hold each other for a minute, and when I pull away, I’m glad we’re in a very far corner and the diner is mostly empty.
“I need a temperature check,” Sire starts with so much confidence like he has a full plan in his head. “How many days a week are you feeling down? How often are you thinking about using or hurting yourself?”
I wipe my tears as I think about it and the past week all of those numbers have been close to zero. It’s incredibly unrealistic to say Jackson and Belle simply took away all my bad thoughts, but I haven’t wanted to self harm once in the week I’ve been with him. Late at night I’ll get sad, sure, but he’d walk into my room right on time. And I want to get high everyday, I’m an addict, but it’s been a simple passing thought instead of the usual overwhelming need for it.
Sire is still waiting for my answer, so I cancel out this past week since it’s an anomaly. “Sad everyday, but concerningly sad, four out of seven days. High everyday, but concerningly, two out of seven.”
“Wait, that’s actually so much better than I was thinking.” He offers me a high five and I narrow my eyes at him.
“Were you hanging out with August this morning?”
I see his high energy deflate before my eyes as he slowly puts his hand down. “He slept over at Vid’s mom’s house with us Thanksgiving weekend,” he mumbles.
“He’s rubbing off on you.”
“I’m hanging out with him too much.” He shakes his head at himself.
“You could never hang out with him too much. It’s August.”
“True.”
We both share a laugh before I turn serious again.
“I think I need a new environment.” I share my idea from this morning. “My apartment makes me sad just thinking about it and it’s not good for my mental health.”
“I’ll get you a new place,” he says cheerfully.
“ I’ll get me a new place.”
He opens his mouth but I stop him.
“You already paid my rent for the year. I’m not letting you get me a whole new apartment.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “Don’t be that girl in the movies that doesn’t let the rich man help her.”
“If you were a rich man who was trying to sleep with me, I’d let you buy me three houses,” I state. “You’re family and I know you don’t mean it as a handout, but it feels like one, and when I’m depressed in my sad room, all I’m going to think about is how I’m a burden and can’t do anything for myself because you bought the depressed room I’m crying in.”
A smile touches his face, but I notice the somberness in it. “You’re not a burden.”
“I am.”
“You’re not.”
“I am.”
He lets out a defeated sigh. “Do you feel like that in your current apartment because I paid your rent?”
“Yes.”
His entire mood plummets and I feel bad telling him after all these months, but it’s true.
“I didn’t mean it as a handout. We made a deal.”
“And the deal was working great, but now I need something I worked hard for.”
Sire nods in understanding. “So you’re going to get a job?”
I let out a sigh as I rest my head on the table. “I’ve gotten too comfortable being unemployed. I don’t want one,” I whine and I know I probably sound bratty, but I didn’t grow up rich, so it doesn’t count.
“Marry a rich man,” Sire jokes but his best friend pops into my head and the idea isn’t the worst one I’ve had.
“I’m thinking of selling my paintings,” I voice, picking up my head from the table.
“You mean you’re taking my idea to sell your art.”
“Shut up. It was my idea because I’m so smart and always have great ideas.”
“You never have remotely good ideas. I actually think August has better ideas than you.”
I ignore him. “Since I don’t have enough pride to not ask for help, I’m going to ask these three, pretty famous, insanely rich, ugly people, if they can promote my art on social media.”
His brows furrow before clarity passes through his face and he bites back a laugh. “Your paintings will sell out in ten minutes if you had one of those three, insanely rich, beautiful , people promoting them on their social media.”
“Sage.”
“Me.”
We say at the same time and I break into a laugh. When I realize he is being serious, I laugh harder. “God, you’re full of yourself.”
The waiter comes to take our order, and when she walks away, I turn back to Sire.
“I have to talk to Harmony.” I sink into my seat at the reminder. “I’ve been distant with her since I relapsed, but I invited her to breakfast with us, so please help me talk to her when she gets here.”
Sire gives me a knowing look. “You need to do this on your own. You chose to get high, make it right with her.”
“That’s the thing.” I sit up. “She doesn’t know I relapsed. There’s nothing for me to make right, but I know I have to tell her. I’m just scared she’s going to hate me. Her mom is off on a bender every other week. I don’t want to be like her.”
“You’re not.” His tone is stern and I choose to believe him. We eat our appetizers in silence, but when I see Harmony make her way inside, my nerves damn near make me throw up.
She has a bright smile on her face, and with the bow on the top of her head, she reminds me so much of Isabelle. I shake my head at myself, the guilt eating at me for being a disappointment.
You’re going to disappoint Belle too.
I’m snapped out of my thoughts as Harmony steps beside us. “Hey.” She smiles at Sire shyly, and it takes me a second to remember they haven’t met.
“Sire, this is my only likable kin.” I gesture to Harmony. “Harmony, this is my least favorite brother.” I pat the seat next to me. “Sit.”
Sire laughs at my jab before asking Harmony about her day, and I let them talk as I build the courage to crush her soul. I feel my mood deflate with every minute that passes, but when Sire excuses himself to the bathroom and gives me that look I sit up straight.
“So.” I shove her shoulder with mine. “I need to talk to you.”
“Yeah.” She turns to me, her eyes full of suspicion. “You’ve clearly been avoiding me all week and I hate the dry messages. I’m so sorry about Mom, but don’t push me away because of her.”
“I’m not,” I reassure her. “It’s not because of her.”
She gives me a once-over before her eyes widen. “Oh my god, did Jackson get you pregnant?”
I slap her arm before glancing over her shoulder for Sire. “Jeez, I can’t tell you anything. Shut up .” I hit her again. “We haven’t even slept together. Get your head out of the gutter and what new little boy is giving you hickeys?” I pinch her neck hard enough to deepen her mark.
She squirms away from me before pulling her sweater up. “This is abuse.”
“Shut up.” I roll my eyes at her. “Don’t mention Jackson around my brother.”
Her brows furrow before a smile creeps onto her face. “Oh, he doesn’t know yet?”
I pick up my hand to hit her but she quickly inches away with a laugh.
“Alright alright.” She puts a hand up in surrender. “So what’s your deal if you’re not hormonal or mad at me about Mom?”
I force a smile but when I open my mouth there’s a knot too big to speak in my throat. I watch her face fall as she leans back to look at me, her eyes scanning mine.
“You’re high?”
“No.” I quickly shake my head.
Her shoulders sag in relief.
“But I was… I kind of overdosed two weeks ago.” I watch her carefully as the disappointment covers her face. She looks down at the table, her head clearly running wild. “Can you say something?” I whisper before holding my breath as I wait for her to tell me she hates me.
She shakes her head, but when she turns to me, she only pulls me in for a hug. “Thank you.”
I hold back a cry as I wrap my arms around her.
“Thank you for not letting me see you like that.” She shakes her head, her voice breaking. “Mom doesn’t have that decency so thank you for knowing you weren’t okay and staying away until you got better. I want to be here for you, but I just can’t handle seeing you like that, okay?”
I nod in return as I hold her tighter. “I’m going to get better,” I promise her, forcing myself to believe it.
“I have an update on the cheater.” She pulls away with a smile and I wipe her tears. After reassuring me that no one is pressing charges for wrecking her ex’s car, she rambles on about the new boy who happens to be his best friend. When she mentions she’s seeing him as revenge and he’s in on it, I decide to give up on pointing her in the right direction.