Page 90 of Fault Line

He raises a skeptical eyebrow. “But you still haven’t talked to him about all this stuff? I mean, more than just the usual Kaia Karras meltdowns. But the pills, the picking?”

“No, I haven’t,” I admit, feeling a blend of remorse and apprehension.

“You don’t trust him with it yet?”

“It’s not that. I trust him, but I just don’t want him to see me any differently.”

“And he hasn’t pushed you about it?”

“No. If anything, he’s been giving me exactly what I need—space and time to figure my shit out.” I feel grateful for Holden’s understanding but also guilty for not opening up to him yet.

“Well, I’m glad he’s at least treating you right. Not that I’m not happy to be here for you, but I’d imagine he’d want to know what’s going on, too.”

“I know.” My voice shakes a little. “You’re right. And I’ll tell him, but I just needed someone tonight who’s been there.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

“It’s hard, right? Opening up to someone new about all this?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t really know, considering the fact that I haven’t mentioned it outside my own family, rehab, and therapy.”

“No?”

“You’re the only one I know who really gets it.”

“Yeah, it’s the same for me. A part of me worries that Beck will have a hard time understanding. He has a shit relationship with his brother, who’s apparently big into partying himself. And then, you know, he’s made a comment or two about you using.”

“You’re worried he’ll lump you in with the rest of us tragic lost souls?”

I laugh, a playful smirk crossing my lips. “You know, I actually think you and Beck might get along better than we thought,” I say, swatting him on the arm. “You’re both snarky assholes, so you’re perfect for each other.”

He feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart. “Me? An asshole? Wounded, Kaia. Truly wounded.”

We both let out a chuckle, nearly delirious with sleep deprivation at this point.

But even still, it feels good to share a laugh with my best friend. It reminds me that, despite everything that’s been going on, I still have a few good people in my corner—people who truly care about me and want to see me happy.

As our laughter subsides and we settle back into the silence, I realize how lucky I am that he showed up tonight. He’s been there for me a lot over the years, both as a friend and as a sober companion.

In the past, we’ve taken turns. Sometimes I need him more, and then other times, he needs me. It just so happens to be my turn this time. Plus, it’s comforting to know that I can still lean on him, even as my relationship with Holden continues to evolve and grow.

By the time the clock strikes four in the morning, our eyelids have grown heavy, and our bodies are finally giving in to the exhaustion. Elio glances at the floor, preparing to craft a makeshift bed for himself.

“I’ll sleep here,” he says, already gathering some blankets and a spare pillow.

I shake my head, fighting back a yawn. “Come on, we’ve shared a bed before,” I remind him.

There’s no reason to make him sleep on the floor when there’s plenty of space beside me. I’ve known the guy since primary school, and we’ve had plenty of sleepovers in the past. This is no different.

He hesitates for a moment before giving me a tired nod. “Alright,” he agrees, abandoning the blankets.

We both make our way to my bed, pulling back the covers and climbing in. It’s cozy and warm, a stark contrast to the cold floor he was prepared to sleep on.

We lie down, our backs facing each other, maintaining a respectful distance. And although we’re far from touching, it’s comforting to know that he’s there. He’s a steady presence, someone to help me resist the temptation that’s clawed its way inside my head.

And when I finally drift off to sleep, I’m comforted by the tiny, temporary slice of peace he’s granted me.

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