36. Nik
Nik
May
I’m walking through the grocery store when I see a familiar head of dark messy hair in the cereal section. “Shane?”
He tries to slide around the corner into a different aisle.
“Shane, you dumbass. I literally already saw you. What the fuck are you doing?” I follow him and my eyes drop to the full cart he’s trying to block with his body.
“Just shopping.” He shrugs.
“For who?” I glare.
“Uh… for us.” He tries to play it cool, but he’s not very good at it.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I smirk. “Bullshit. I do our shopping.”
“I can do it too,” he says, sounding offended.
“Yeah.” I quirk a brow. “You could but you never do.”
In the six years since I moved into the apartment, he’s never went to the grocery store. He gives me grocery money sometimes, but that’s the extent of his contribution.
I wouldn’t trust him not to get sidetracked and blow it all.
“Maybe I’m turning over a new leaf.”
I eye him before taking in the cart full of snacks that just so happen to be all of his sister’s favorites. “Ash is coming.” Pursing my lips, I cock a hip and cross my arms over my chest. “Isn’t she?”
His voice pitches up an octave when he says, “What? No.”
“For someone who lies as much as you, you’re fucking terrible at it. When is she coming?”
He scoffs. “How did you know?”
“Because you have a cart full of her favorite snacks, dipshit.”
He sighs, and his shoulders slump. “She’ll be here tomorrow, but she begged me not to tell anyone.”
“She what?” I shriek. “I’m her best friend!”
He throws his hands up defensively. “I’m just telling you what she said.”
“I’m gonna kick her ass,” I say to myself, heading back the way I came before turning back to him and adding, “After I kick yours that is.”
I cannot believe she thought she could sneak into town without me knowing. She’s my best friend. She should have known she could trust me. I’m slightly offended that she didn’t think she could tell me, but that’s mostly overshadowed by how excited I am to see her.
I’ve been visiting her every couple months for the last six years, and honestly, we’ve only grown closer. I love her like a sister, and Maggie is every bit my niece, and that has nothing to do with Shane. They’re my family.
Shane heads to Gran’s to set up for her and I head home. She’s supposed to be here tomorrow, and he seems really stressed about making sure she has everything she needs. If there’s one thing Shane’s good at, it’s being her brother.
I’ve decided to make Ash strawberry shortcake for tomorrow because she’s a sugar fiend, and maybe it’ll soften the blow when she finds out I know she’s here.
I reach up on my tiptoes to get a mixing bowl from the corner cabinet.
It’s at the very back, and I can just barely reach it but work it toward me with my fingertips until I’m able to get a grip on the handle.
When I pull it to the edge something falls from the shelf, smacking the counter before hitting the floor.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.
Still gripping the bowl, I look down and my whole world seems to tilt.
My stomach flips and my breath hitches.
I can’t fucking believe what I’m seeing.
There’s no way.
He wouldn’t, right?
He promised.
Trying to sit the bowl down on the counter, I miss the edge, and it falls to the floor, cracking in half.
Almost as if in slow motion, I bend down and pick up the three syringes that seem to have fallen from the sky.
They shake in my hands as tears pool in my eyes, and I try and fail to suck in air.
He promised.
Even through my racing thoughts, that’s the one I keep snagging on.
He promised.
Everything around me stops. The TV that was playing in the background fades away, leaving my heart thundering in my chest as the only sound in the room.
He fucking promised!
The door opens, and Shane’s voice breaks through the fog. “Hey, you okay?”
I clutch the evidence to my stomach. Turning around slowly, I look up at him with watery eyes.
“Nikki?” he murmurs, lines appearing on his forehead as he moves toward me.
“No!” I spit, holding out a hand. “Don’t come near me! Don’t you fucking come near me.”
“What happened?” he asks, searching my face for answers. “What’s wrong?”
Suddenly, he looks like someone I don’t even know. After everything we’ve experienced together, I don’t know how to reconcile that he’d do this to me. It’s the only thing I’ve ever asked of him.
My nostrils flare and my teeth barely part as I bite out, “I’m going to ask you a question, and I swear to God, you better not lie to me.”
“Okay…” He nods.
“Have you been—” I cut off, attempting to swallow the lump stuck in my throat. “Have you been shooting up again?”
His eyes widen, panic flashing in them, and I know. He opens his mouth, and his nostrils flare. Then he closes them and exhales.
A sob breaks from my chest, and I toss the syringes at him. “Goddamn it, Shane. You fucking promised!”
He stares down at the evidence before he squeezes them closed.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters under his breath, looking at the floor.
“You’re sorry? You’re fucking sorry? Shane, I’ve looked past everything.
I’ve never asked you for anything but this.
Hell, I never even asked you not to do it again.
I just asked that you fucking tell me if you did!
” My voice becomes louder and more frantic with each word that falls from my lips.
“I deserved to know if I’m fucking you!”
Honestly, I feel crazy because no part of me believed he would ever do this. I’m so mad, I want to choke him.
I won’t, for the record, but I want to.
“Baby, I’m so sorry. Just listen, I can explain.”
“You can explain? What is there to explain! I asked one thing of you, and you couldn’t fucking do it. How could you do this to me! To us?” Turning away from him, I press my fists into my eyes. “Fuck!”
“I know.”
“Yeah, you know. You know, and you fucking did it anyway,” I snap.
Bracing my hands on the edge of the counter, I drop my head and grit my teeth so hard I’m surprised they don’t crack.
I’m so tired. I’m tired of worrying about him, I’m tired of everyone telling me he’s bad for me, and I’m tired of having to defend him all the time. Especially, when I’m not sure he deserves my defense. He definitely doesn’t right now.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, wrapping his arm around my waist.
I whip around, wiping the tears from my face, and say, “Yeah, you keep saying that.”
Slipping out of his grip, I storm off to the bedroom, slamming the door behind me. What is it they say about insanity? It’s doing the same shit, but expecting a different outcome? That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it? Fight, make up, fuck up, fight some more. It’s insanity.
Flinging myself onto the bed, I bury my head under the blanket and scream.
I’m stuck in this stupid whirlwind, and it doesn’t seem to matter what I do; I can’t get out. I can’t make him stop doing this shit, and I can’t make myself stop loving him enough to walk away, and all of that feels like I’m dying a slow exhausting death.
If I could go back in time and never meet him, I think I would because I think I might have been cursed the day I first laid eyes on that man.
It only takes about twenty minutes for Shane to knock on the door. When I don’t respond, the door creaks open. “Nikki, please hear me out.”
I don’t lift my head from under the blanket. “No, get out.”
“Come on.” His voice gets closer. “Please.”
“No, Shane, I’m so mad right now, I want to fucking hit you. So, please get out.”
“Do it, then. Fucking hit me if that’ll make you feel better.”
“I just want you to leave me alone.”
“So that’s it? We’re just done? You won’t even listen to what I have to say?”
I shoot up in bed, flipping the blanket off myself and turning to face him.
“No. We’re not done! I’m just pissed. I told you before that I’m in this for the long haul, but right now I’m mad. So fucking mad I want to murder you! So, I’ll let you know when I cool off enough to look at you without wanting to wring your neck. Until then, get the fuck out!”
He looks at me with sad eyes, and I have to resist the urge to rush to him and make it all better.
I can’t though.
He crossed a fucking line this time, and I need to stand my ground. I flop back onto the bed, pulling my armor back over me.
Laying there weeping, I realize just how fucked up my life really is. I love him, but maybe everyone’s right to tell me to cut him loose. Until this moment I thought he had his issues, but he loved me enough to never hurt me in a serious way.
This is a wake-up call.
I’ve always said I trust Shane, but I don’t trust his addiction. The problem is, these days, it seems like there’s more addiction than Shane.
I stay in our room for the rest of the evening, and he leaves me be.
I was still fuming when I woke up, so I stayed in bed until I heard the front door close as Shane left for work. I felt a little guilty when I saw his pillow and blanket on the couch, but then I promptly scolded myself for that because fuck him.
And I didn’t hear from him until he texted to let me know Ash was in town.
I hightailed it straight over to Gran’s only to find her sobbing in the middle of her room. We spent the rest of the afternoon catching up.
God, I knew I missed her, but having her home is exactly what I needed.
When I left Gran’s I was starting to feel better, and by the time I was finished at work, I thought I might actually be ready to talk things out with Shane, but then Ash texted me to say Gabe showed up at Gran’s, and I was ready to kick his sorry ass all over again.
He had one fucking job, make sure Gabe doesn’t know she’s here, and he fucked that up. I was ready to murder them both by the time I reached the shop.
After saying my peace in the parking lot, like I so often do—I swear the people in this town must think I’m the biggest bitch—I headed straight back to Gran’s to make sure she was okay.