Page 21 of Revenge Cake

My shoulders drop as I groan. “Fine… Whatever…” Next to the number one, I write, Don’t look at her Instagram.

“You realize she’s not going to let this ‘break’ slide, right? She’s going to come after you with everything she’s got to make you forget the boundaries you’ve set with her.”

I lift my pen from the paper as I consider her words. I ought to feel ashamed that just the idea of that makes my dick stir. I imagine Leilani standing outside of my front door with a leather whip in her hand, a severe expression on her face as she tells me what she plans to do me for having the audacity to take charge in our relationship…

But she wouldn’t do that. She’s too fucking high all the time.

“I really don’t think so. Ativan is all she needs right now.” I hate how bitter I sound, like I’m jealous of a prescription drug.

“And this is part of addiction,” she says. “You are a vital part of her relationship with Ativan, because you allowed her to use it without any consequences. You took care of her. You made excuses for her to all of her friends.” She lifts a brow. “You took an online exam for her.”

I laugh humorlessly. “That I did. Not one of my proudest moments. Thankfully I’m a lot dumber than her and got a C plus. She deserved it.”

Keira rolls her eyes. “You’re not dumb, and there’s no need to dwell on the past. Setting boundaries with her was a big step for you, and you’ve stuck to it.” She smiles faintly. “I’m proud of you.”

And I would be proud of myself too if it was actually difficult, I’m about to say, but I stop myself. Something about it feels disloyal.

“Okay,” I say, looking down at the single item on my list. “I think I’ve got it. Just give me a second.” While I scribble away at the rest of my list, Keira turns away and starts walking around her room, as if to give me privacy—unnecessary given that it takes me about ten seconds to finish. I’ve known all along what needs to be done.

“What do you think?” I ask, lifting up the notepad. She walks over to me and takes it from my hands, her brow furrowing as her eyes scan the list. A smile hovering on her mouth, she looks up at me. “I like that you put the last one in all caps.”

“Yeah well, given her erratic behavior lately, I can’t be certain she won’t show up at my doorstep naked.”

Her smile falters, and I’m confused for a second before the reason behind it dawns on me.

Keira doesn’t want to think about Lani showing up at my doorstep naked. She doesn’t want to think about us having sex.

I look away, not wanting to send her any encouragement. Guilt gnaws at my conscience, and it shouldn’t.

I didn’t seek her out for this. I can’t help it if she’s attracted to me.

“I think you need to add something that says, if you do run into each other by ‘chance’”—she makes air quotes, implying that Lani will force a meeting between us at some point—“you’ll be polite but distant, and end the interaction as soon as you can.”

I nod. “Fair enough.”

“And here,” she says, bending down and opening a drawer, grabbing a fresh, white printer paper. “Re-write it on this. Make it look nice. I want you to post it up somewhere in your room as soon as you get home.”

I groan. “Armaan is going to give me so much shit.”

She looks at me sternly. “Don’t worry about Armaan. Don’t worry about anyone else. This is about your recovery, and I do mean it when I say, ‘recovery.’ Co-dependency is just as much of a sickness as addiction.”

Is it, though? I want to add cynically, remembering the multitude of wrongs Lani’s committed since she started taking Ativan, but I fight the urge to disagree with Keira after all the help she’s given me.

“Done,” I say, setting down the pen, looking over the completed list.

1. Don’t look at her Instagram.

2. Don’t text her.

3. If you run into her, be polite but distant.

4. Don’t under any circumstances agree to see her in person.

5. DO NOT HAVE SEX WITH HER.

Keira nods once. “Good.”

CHAPTER 8

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