Page 204 of The Fine Line
I sigh, resting my head back. My throat works, the words thick. “I should’ve told you sooner,” I say. “I have a problem with painkillers.”
Her gaze snaps back to me.
“I’ve been… mostly clean for ten years. There’ve been a few slip-ups,” I admit. “But for the most part, I’ve kept it together. I had to.”
“Rhett—”
“No,” I say softly, shaking my head. “I need to say this. I want to. Because I care. I care what you think of me.”
She blinks rapidly, her eyes glossy again.
“That’s why I’ve been seeing someone,” I continue. “Why I’ve been talking to someone lately. More often than usual.”
Her lips part. Her brows draw together.
“Lauren,” I murmur.
Realization dawns in her eyes. “Lauren?” she repeats.
I nod faintly. “She’s my therapist.”
Her face crumples, her fingers flying to her lips. “Oh my God…”
“I’ve been afraid,” I admit, voice rough. “The closer I’ve gotten to you, the more I’ve felt like I have to be… perfect. And with this game coming up—against Chicago—I knew I was close to slipping. So I’ve been seeing her. The other night was the last time. I promised her… I promised myself, if I ever thought about relapsing, I’d think of you instead.”
“Rhett…”
“I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t want to wreck this,” I say. “But I guess I did anyway.”
She shakes her head quickly, wiping her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I—I thought…”
“I know what you thought.” I give her a tired smile. “I probably would’ve thought the same.”
Her breath hitches.
I pat the bed beside me. “Come here.”
Hesitant at first, she climbs onto the edge of the mattress, curling toward me.
“We’ve made a real mess, huh?” I say, my lips quirking faintly.
She gives a watery laugh, wiping at her cheeks. “Yeah. We have.”
I glance at her, my chest aching. “There’s more,” I murmur. “More I want to tell you. If you want to hear it.”
She nods, the motion small but sure. “I do.”
I reach for her hand. “Think you can get a week off? I mean… if you’re not leaving for New York…”
Her mouth lifts faintly. “That’s not until next season.”
I squeeze her hand. “Then I’d like to take you somewhere,” I say softly.
She looks at me for a long moment, her thumb brushing over my knuckles.
“Okay,” she whispers.
And even though her eyes are still shining, there’s the barest hint of a smile on her lips.
