Page 73 of The Plan

I draw in a deep breath as Lisette walks in. I don’t bother responding to her and settle back onto the couch with Kayden. Obviously, I feel like shit, too, since my sponsor is here. Lisette is just an asshole perusal.

“Why is it so depressing in here? I thought I was the one who needed to take antidepressants. Get your own personality.”

I shake my head at her. She walks into the living room and opens my curtains, letting light seep into the sad fucking room.

Her eyes land on the table when she turns back around, and her entire demeanor changes. She looks up at me, over to Kayden, then back to the cup of alcohol. She watches me for a few seconds before she stands straighter.

“Is today our cheat day?”

I shake my head and let out a scoff because I genuinely thought she was going to say something fucking helpful right now. I let my eyes fall shut as I lean my head against the back of the couch.

“What do you meancheatday?” Kayden asks, and he sounds worried. Before I can answer, Lisette explains.

“Cheat day, you know?” He doesn’t answer. “It’s when we’re allowed to get high or drunk, but it doesn’t count, so we’re technically just as many days sober.” She sounds hopeful and certain in her statement, and I almost let a small smile break through, but the weight on my chest is too heavy to feel the relief of her words.

“How often do you two do this?” I ignore him, although it sounds like he’s facing me now.

“Not that often. We only get one cheat day a month.” Her voice is full of so much seriousness that when I sneak a glance at Kayden, his jaw is on the floor. He turns his entire frame to me, and to say he looks concerned is an understatement.

“Sire, when was the last time you had a cheat day?” I shake my head at his dumbass for believing my even dumber sister and let my eyes fall shut.

“I think it was like three weeks ago,” Lisette answers for me and sits on the other end of the couch.

“Okay, you need to stop doing that, andyouneed to not encourage that…” He waits for something, and then Lis tells him her name. “Lisette, you shouldn’t encourage—wait, Lisette, like Lis? His sister?”

“Awe, you talk about me?” I let out a sigh and open my eyes. Instead of entertaining her, I lean forward for the cup of liquor. Just as I lift it to my nose, Lisette literally slaps it out of my hand.

“Woah! I was fucking joking.” My hand is still frozen in place as if I were holding the cup, and I turn to her slowly.

“Did you just—”

“Yes, get over yourself. I’m not August. I’ll hit you whenever I want, and you won’t do shit. Now what the hell is wrong with you?”

“I wasn’t going to drink it. Calm down.” She turns her head to the side, and her face scrunches like I’m an idiot.

“No? What were you going to do? Consume it?” I chuckle softly and lean my head back onto the couch.

“It’s an exercise we’re doing,” Kayden explains. “It’s to give him a sense of control. He feels overwhelmed but isn't drinking. Knowing that feels good.” I look over at the bottle of alcohol and remind myself that one of my greatest temptations is within arm’s reach, but I’m not taking it. I take in a deep breath, and the whiff of spilled alcohol feels like it seeps into my blood.

The image of the spilled drink and broken glass drags me back to my childhood and the beating that came after spillingherdrink. My blood suddenly runs cold, and I think I might be sick.

“Okay… well, it doesn’t look like it’s working because you look like you’re about to cry.” I squeeze my eyes shut at the reminder, and I feel the room go still. “Um, do you need me to get the twins so they can hug you or something?”

“Are you always like this?” Kayden asks.

“I’m picking up on some judgment on that side.”

“That’s because I’m judging.”

“Fuck.” I rise from the couch and blink the stinging from the back of my eyes. The pair behind me are silent as I collect myself. “I can’t do this shit.” I look up to the ceiling and squeeze my eyes shut again.

“You can’t do what? This shit called life? Because suicide is also my thing, be yourself, Sire.” I try to draw in a breath, but I feel like the weight in my chest is too much, like I’m suffocating and might collapse.

“Wow, Sire was not joking when he said humor was your coping mechanism.”

I force myself to breathe in as much as I can and turn to Lisette. “I know—” I choke up and have to force in more air before trying again. “Being assholes is our entire relationship, but please, okay?”

She watches me for two whole seconds before there's a new look in her eyes. “What is it?”

---