Page 71 of Losing Faith

I nod in agreement as I focus on a picture I have tucked in my phone case of us with Kat. We’re about nine, but she carries me on her hip like I weigh nothing as Sire climbs her back.

“This is who raised us. She’s the woman who taught us that love wassafe.Our surrogates brought us into this world so Kat could find us. Don’t give them an ounce of credit more. They’re not worth feeling like shit over.”

I wipe my tears as I face forward again. “I want to get highevery timeI think about her.”

“Yeah.” He sits up as he pulls in a deep breath. “I used to feel like that too.”

I turn to him now. “Used to? What changed?” I asked, desperate for a cure for this pain in my chest.

“It was something Vidia said,” he starts. “She said I was dealt a shitty hand, but I still came out on top in spades. I started remembering that whenever I thought about her, and eventually, the feeling went away because in the end, she put me through hell but I won.”

I look forward again before hugging my knees. “This doesn’t feel like a win.” I rest my chin on my arm before Sire leans his head against me.

“It will soon.”

I try to believe him. Believing him is all I have, so I force myself to believe that eventually I won’t feel like this.

“I’m so tired of these highs and lows.” I bury my face in my arms, feeling physically exhausted. “I can’t have more than two weeks of happiness before it’s taken away.”

“Focus on the things that make you happy and when you feel like this you can turn to them.”

I know he’s trying to help and it’s good advice, but I feel so hopeless that nothing sounds worth it.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” I whisper, afraid of my own words.

His entire face drops and I shut my eyes, not having it in me to face him.

“Please don’t look at me like that.”

“You can’t even see me,” he mumbles.

My eyes meet his now. “Like that… like I’m selfish for wanting to give up.” I look between his eyes carefully. “I’m trying. I swear I am, but on days like this, I don’t want to try. I don’t think I have much fight left in me.”

He shakes his head, and I can see it in his eyes that my words physically hurt him. “You’re not selfish. I’m selfish for wanting you to stay when you’re suffering, but I need you, Lis.”

I squeeze my eyes shut so my tears don’t fall again. “I don’t want to…” Sniffling quietly, I lift my head. “I need you to promise me you’ll be okay without me. Don’t relapse like an idiot.”

“What?” He pulls away, his eyes scanning my face frantically. “I won’t be okay.”

“Sire—”

“Lisette, please, okay? Iswearit’s going to get better. I don’t know when, but I’m not promising shit. I can’t let you kill yourself; I won’t make it.” His voice breaks, and I bite my tongue to conceal my cry.

We sit in silence for a few minutes before I start plucking the grass mindlessly.

“Remember how you told me to walk around with that bottle of vodka?”

“Don’t beat yourself up for drinking it, Lis.” His voice is vacant of all emotion. “It helped when it was supposed to. That exercise works better for me, but now you know your limits. You can blame that one on me if you want.”

“I’m in control of my sobriety.” Digging my hand in my pocket, I take out the bottle of pills. “That exercise was actually helping, but this doesn’t feel the same.”

I feel Sire go still as he watches our kryptonite. We don’t say anything for a while. We simply stare at the pills of oxycodone I’ve been carrying all day, not a single word being spoken.

I feel like it’s burning a hole through my palm, but I’m too scared of what will happen if I move, so I don’t.

“What are you thinking about?” he whispers.

I chew on my lip nervously, trying to think of what he wants to hear.

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