Page 147 of New Growth
“I’ll slow down,” I offered.
“I know you will,” he said casually. “Because I took your flask.”
My head shot up. “What? When?”
“Last night. While you were sleeping.”
I stared at him. “So what, I act a little crazy, and you decide to punish me?”
“You think that’s a punishment?”
“I think it’s an attempt at one.”
He gave a soft, dry laugh. “Do you think monitoring my blood sugar is a punishment for me?”
I pressed my lips together. “That’s different.”
“No, it’s not. I care about your health like you care about mine.”
“No,” I said, the sting sharper than I meant. “You just don’t trust me.”
He didn’t flinch. “No, Peanut. I trust you to be wrapped in grief for years to come. I trust you to hide it and bury yourself in the nearest bottle. I trust you to tell me you’re fine when you’re not. I trust you to go too far, to overdo it.”
“Then you don’t know me.”
He gave a slow shake of his head. “Oh, I know you.I was you.And I know this isn’t ideal, and there are better ways we can handle it, but this is at least a step in the right direction.”
I dropped my gaze to his chest again, silent.
“Are you disappointed in me?” I whispered.
El didn’t hesitate. “No, Peanut. You’re young, and you’re going through a lot. I don’t expect you to have all the answers or make the right decisions all the time. Hell, I don’t even have the right answers most of the time. But this?” He paused. “This is manageable. We can fix it before it gets out of control.”
“How?” I asked quietly.
“Let’s start small,” he said. “A month dry. Just one month. If that’s too hard, we can talk about some other options like counseling.”
I sank against his chest again, my cheek pressed to his warm skin as I stared at the lamp on his nightstand. I let out a slow, tired sigh.
“Okay,” I said.
His fingers drifted gently up and down my spine in a soothing rhythm. “You ready to talk about last night?”
“Not yet.”
El exhaled through his nose, not frustrated—just careful. “Why not?”
I hesitated. “It’s scary to think about.”
“What’s scaring you?”
“How quickly I was to give in,” I said, barely able to admit it aloud. “If you hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve gone through with it. But you’re wrong about one thing, I wouldn’t have regretted it. And that’s what scares me.”
He stilled beneath me.
“Do you think about it?” he asked, voice low. “You and me… together?”
I swallowed. “I have before. Yeah.”
