Page 62 of The Renter
“What happened to you taking a break from work?” I ask, aggression still lingering in my tone.
“If crypto was where it was last year, I wouldn’t need to attend this conference.” Adam sighs. “The worst thing that could happen to Cryptoball is a run on accounts.”
Run on accounts?Of course, it must be serious, and I feel a little guilty for my reaction to everything. “What does that mean?”
“Bitcoin and most other cryptos have been on a sharp decline since March. If people convert all of their holdings to cash, and withdraw their funds from the platform, it would bankrupt the company.” Adam shares while tracing his thumb along my jaw. It’s so tender and I understand why he’s so serious about me helping him and Declan.
After a few moments, he continues, “The purpose of attending this conference isn’t just to reassure people that crypto will rise, but also to persuade them to invest more money on the platform, convincing them that now’s the time to buy.”
Adam and I sit on the bed, shoulder to shoulder, not saying anything until “Declan said something else,” comes out of his mouth. Great,I think, feeling my hangover kick in.
“Why is he so concerned with your drinking?” Adam asks.
“I wish I fucking knew,” I say, throwing my hands up.
“He said something about your dad.”
“Oh my God!” I scream as much as my hangover will allow. “He thinks because I got drunk last night, I need to go to rehab. He’s insane.”
“Rehab?” The word hangs between us, heavy and unwelcome. His expression softens, his eyes full of empathy. “Tell me about it. I want to know.”
“I hate that I’m always trauma dumping on you.”
“Dani, you’re my girlfriend; I need to know everything.”
“You think the worst time in my life was when I was with Sorin?” I take a deep breath. “Oh, no, it was when I was twelve—the year my dad went to rehab.”
“Baby,” he says, pulling me into him and sliding his arm around my shoulder. Both of us leaning on the headboard.
“It changed everything. Before, I thought we were happy. I never felt poor before then. My dad and I traveled around the country racing dirt bikes, something I loved and thought I’d do forever. But after he went to rehab, everything collapsed.”
I pause, swallowing hard. Adam kisses the top of my head, and then I continue, “Money got tight, very tight. It wasn’t about not racing anymore; it was about watching everything we had crumble. My mom had to work two jobs, and I barely saw her. It was like I lived two different lives—before and after.”
Adam’s arms tighten around me. “It must have been tough.”
“Two dads,” I continue, the words bitter. “First, there was the dad, who was so full of life, always laughing and making everything fun. Then there was this other guy who came back from rehab. He was jaded, distant. He hated everything—theworld, himself. And he was so difficult to be around. He would snap over the smallest things, and it was like walking on eggshells every day.”
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Dani. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been.”
“Yeah,” I whisper, grateful for his understanding. “It’s something I don’t talk about much, but it shaped who I am today. And why I fight so hard to keep my independence and control over my life.”
He nods, understanding more about me at this moment than perhaps anyone else ever has. I lean back slightly to look at Adam, the pain of those days reflected in my eyes. “I’m going to sound so small-town backwoods right now, but you can’t make this shit up.”
“Okay?”
“Sorin was my dad’s dealer. It was a big secret he kept from me until he couldn’t.”
“Whoa,” Adam breathes.
“Sorin was supposed to be fun. Kinda like how we started off. So, I didn’t tell my parents about him for a while. And when I did … It was so fucked. He’s the same age as my mom and well after we were sleeping together, I learned they had dated in high school.”
“That’s … a lot.”
“I know. So, do you regret asking me to be your girlfriend?”
“No,” he softly laughs. “Not at all.”
“I know what addiction looks like. I’ll be the first person to say that I got dangerously close to the problem line. When I was with Sorin, I was not sober. We were always drinking, and I started doing coke. It wasn’t good, and I realized that. I haven’t touched cocaine since then.” Thinking about it, I add, “Well, I’ve done it once since that summer. But when Sorin and I ended, Iwas fully sober for a couple of months. It was no issue. I don’t have a problem, problem.”
