35. Nik
Nik
Shane’s not home often, and when he is it’s obvious he’s given up. I just want to be able to help him, but I don’t know how anymore. For the first time, it’s like he’s totally unreachable. Even when I try to talk to him, his eyes are just… vacant.
Thankfully, he’s still showing up for work. Which is about the only thing keeping me from losing my mind most days. I might not always know where he is in the evening—although I have a good idea—I know he’s at the shop during the day.
Occasionally, I’ll drive by Gran’s to see if his bike is parked out front. He’s been staying there from time to time when he doesn’t come home. I don’t like it, but it’s better than the alternative.
All I want is Shane back. I want to see him smile again, not whatever that half-lip, tilt thing is he does now. And I want to hear him laugh. He doesn’t do that at all anymore. Doesn’t even try.
The door opens and he walks in, looking like a ghost of himself. Dark circles rim his eyes, his shaggy hair’s more disheveled than purposely messy, and he’s lost so much weight he almost looks sick.
I guess, he kind of is.
“Hey,” I greet him, turning on the couch where I’ve been sitting in one of his shirts all morning and resting my chin on the back.
“Hey,” he mumbles, not kicking off his shoes and making a beeline for our room without even looking up at me.
I jump up, following him, my bare feet sticking to the wood floor. “Shane?”
He doesn’t so much as glance at me as he tears open the bedroom door before closing it behind him.
I rip it back open to find him grabbing a duffle bag from under the bed.
“Hey! I’m talking to you!”
Still no response as he opens a dresser drawer and starts tossing shit into the bag.
“What are you doing?” I grab his arm, stopping his panicked packing.
“Leaving.”
“Why?”
“Don’t do this.” He yanks his arm free and goes back to stuffing things into the bag. “Don’t make this harder.”
“What do you mean?” I step back.
“I can’t stay here.”
“What? why?”
I don’t understand. Or maybe I do and just don’t want to believe it because I know Shane, and I can tell by the look on his face—by the apology in his eyes. My throat goes dry, and tears prick my eyes.
“I’m done. If I stay, I’ll just keep dragging you down. It’s better if we just rip it off now.”
“No,” I say, walking toward him and ripping his shit out of his bag like a mad woman. The tears retreat, replaced by something red-hot bubbling up from my core. He’s not fucking leaving. I won’t let him. I’ll tie him to the fucking bed and never let him out of my sight if I have to.
Jesus, Nik.
“We can’t do this anymore.”
I pull the bag off the bed, shoving it behind my back. “I’m not done.”
“Well, I am. I can’t fucking do this. I’m gonna fucking hurt you! Do you hear me! I’m a sinking ship! You need to get the fuck away from me.”
I shake my head as he speaks, not willing to go down without a fight.
“No! I hear you, but no. Fuck that. You’re not a sinking ship, Shane. You’re sick and you need help, but you can get better.”
He rolls his eyes, his stoic expression unwavering. This whole argument is stupid—useless. He’s already made up his mind.
“You just have to try,” I plead, the desperation in my voice so thick it’s almost nauseating.
“That’s not how this works. I’m not gonna get better. This is who I am. You need to get that through you’re fucking head,” he shouts.
“I don’t believe that.”
“Well, you should because it’s the truth.” He turns away from me, putting his hands over his face. “I don’t know why you even fucking stay!”
“Because I love you, idiot! I fucking love you.” I grab his arm, spinning him to face me before shoving his shoulder. “I don’t want to live without you. I don’t care if you don’t get better.”
“You should!” He groans, pulling his hair at the root. “You should fucking care about how I treat you! You should want better!”
The anger pouring over his words stops me in my tracks. He’s really doing this. My heart cracks wide open, and I just stand there unable to keep the tears from brimming in my eyes.
My voice is softer when I say, “I just want you.”
“I know and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to do this, but I’m fucking ruining your life.
” He grabs my face and leans down to look into my eyes, tears threatening to fall from his.
“I hope you understand; I’m doing this for you.
Not because I don’t love you, but because I do.
I’m doing the right thing for the first time, and I want you to know that it is fucking killing me. ”
I shake my head, my voice cracking. “No. Please.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispers before picking up the bag and darting out of the room.
I chase after him as tears pour from my eyes, no longer ashamed by how desperate I am for him to stay because I’m not sure I’ll be able to take one more breath if he steps out that door. “Shane, please.”
He stops, his fingers hovering over the knob. My hands tremble at my sides.
Just stay. Please just stay.
He turns back to me.
Grabs my face.
His dark eyes glisten.
I open my mouth to say something, but he cuts me off, his lips crashing into mine. But it doesn’t feel right. This isn’t him giving in—it’s goodbye.
The moment our mouth’s part, his eyes don’t meet mine again as he rushes out, shutting the door behind him.
I stand on the other side wondering how in the hell I’m supposed to ever move from this spot. How long can I just stand here and hope that he’ll come back because every second that passes feels like something new is fracturing inside my body.
My chest heaves.
A minute passes.
Then another, until I’ve completely lost track of how long it has been since the click of the door closing.
My hands are still shaking as I pull out my phone and send him a text.
Me
I’ll be here when you come back.
Swatting tears away from my face, I let out a scream. Then another.
I’ve always thought of my ribs as armor. Protecting me from being hurt. But Shane slipped under them, found a way to hold them up, and now they don’t know how to do it on their own anymore. And they’ve caved in, suffocating me.
I rush to the kitchen and flip on the kitchen sink, gasping. As I run my hand under the water, waiting for it to warm up, my lips start to tingle.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I rip open the junk drawer.
The room spins.
My numb hands dig through the stray tools, rubber bands, and batteries, shit spilling out and clamoring to the ground. But the noise sounds like it’s a million miles away.
At the back of the drawer, I find a white lighter. The first decent inhale comes with the flicking sound, but it’s not enough.
It’s not until the flame licks the skin on the inside of my wrist that my ribs finally expand, and my lungs fill.
Fuck him.
I run it over my skin again.
He always does this shit. Acting like he’s doing what’s best for me, but he doesn’t know the first thing about what’s best for anyone.
It’s the third pass of the lighter that finally has me settling back into my body. My ass hits the edge of the counter as I lean back, tossing the lighter back into the drawer. My arm screams, drowning out everything in my head.
But only for a moment.
As I try to go about my evening, the more irritated I become. How dare he make that choice for me. I’m the one that should get to decide if I deserve better, and I don’t care what I fucking deserve.
At some point, I decide to lay down, trying the bed first, but it smells too much like him, which just makes me cry more. Then, I move to the couch, but he left his stupid jacket lying over the back of it, and I’m clearly a masochist, so I breathe it in and keep on crying.
I’m not sure at what point I finally fall asleep. When I wake, the tears have dried, but the rage hasn’t ebbed an ounce.
I’m not fucking done. He can’t force this on me. I won’t let him. I change into shorts and a T-shirt and leave the apartment on a mission to knock some fucking sense into the love of my life.
My knuckles turn white as I fly through the two stop lights on my way to him. He’s such an asshole, and I think there’s a little part of me deep down that might hate him a little bit.
But it’s not loud enough.
He’s going to be lucky if I don’t beat his ass when I finally find him, and I swear to God if he’s not at Gran’s…
If I have to drag him out of…
I’ll do it. I’ll march right into that fucking house and drag him out by his fucking hair if I have to.
A sigh of relief finds me as I pull onto Gran’s road and see his bike parked out front.
As I get closer, I see him on the porch with a cigarette in his hand. As I walk up the stairs, he starts to say something, but I throw up a hand to stop him.
“Don’t talk. I heard what you said, and now you need to fucking listen.
I know exactly what I’m doing with you. I’m not fucking delusional.
I know you’re a mess. I know what my future will look like with you.
I’ve been living it for the last six goddamn years!
I’m not dreaming of a day when you finally get clean and we sail off into the sunset.
I know that may never happen, and I’m here anyway.
I want you to get better, but also, I just want you.
You don’t get to decide that for me. I do.
I decide if you get to ruin my life, and let me just say, you will no matter what, because losing you will break me worse than staying through all of this bullshit.
I’m here because I love you. I want your bad times just as much as I want your good times.
So, don’t fucking tell me you’re doing the right thing.
I don’t think you know what the right thing is,” I spit.
My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath. I can’t believe it all just came out so smoothly. I mean, I’ve been rehearsing what I’d say since last night, but still. I’m so fucking pissed at him—angrier than I’ve ever been for any of the times he’s fucked up, but I still got it all out.
He stares at me, unmoving, so I make a what gesture at him.
“Oh, sorry, am I allowed to talk now?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, you may speak.”
He laughs. “You’re fucking insane. You know that?”
I glare at him.
“No really, you’ve completely lost your fucking mind. Nik, do you have any idea how hard this is for me?”
“For you? I’m the one getting dumped for no good damn reason.”
“I have a good reason!” he shouts.
“Yeah, you’d rather dump me than just fix your fucking problems.”
“Don’t,” he warns. “You know that’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? You’re so worried your addiction’s going to end up hurting me, but instead of dealing with it, you’d rather just break up.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“No, I know, but you’re not even trying. You gave up weeks ago.”
He stares at me, nostrils flaring. I hit a nerve, but maybe this is what he needs to hear.
“Instead of beating yourself up and pushing everyone away, why don’t you do something about it. Get some fucking help. Your problems aren’t drowning everyone around you, they’re drowning you, and we’re all watching.”
“I can’t!”
“Yes, you can! Shane, you might not be able to do it on your own, but you can beat this if you choose to. But you have to do it. If I could do it for you, I would have a long time ago.”
He rubs his face with his hands. “Goddamn it, Nikki. You were supposed to just let me leave and move on.”
“I will never just let you leave. Get that out of your head. I’m here. You are my other half, and I know you feel worthless, but you’ve always been worth the world to me. Without you I wouldn’t fucking be here. You matter. If not to anyone else, you matter to me. Always.”
“Why? I don’t get it. I’m a fucking disaster.”
“I don’t know, but you do. You’re perfect to me.”
I walk over to him and run my hands in his hair. His find their way to my ass, and I smile down at him.
“I love you even if you’re a complete fucking moron.”