Page 88 of Broken Instrument

“Maybe a change of scenery will be good for her too.” I hear the front door close. “Hey, I have to go. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Sounds good. And, Hads?”

I pause and turn toward the open bedroom door, distracted. “Yeah?”

“I really am happy for you.”

My posture softens, my arms itching to give Isabella a hug even when I know it isn’t possible. But I’m grateful. For her. For our friendship. It means a lot to me. And if anyone deserves happiness after the hell we’ve all been through, it’s her and Mia.

“Thanks, Bells. Talk soon.”

She says goodbye, and I hang up the phone, tossing it onto Fender’s bed. My bed. Another smile stretches across my face. I can’t believe we’re moving in together. It’s crazy. And amazing. I can’t believe I’m so lucky to call Fender mine. I wasn’t kidding when I said I couldn’t do this without him.

I was so scared when we first started dating. Terrified he’d be just like my brother, and he’d relapse, fall into the wrong crowd again, and make a mistake. One he might not be able to come back from, and I’d be left alone. Again.

I didn’t even recognize I was holding myself back from loving him until we made love for the first time, and he held me. It was perfect. Beautiful. Something to hold onto when I felt like breaking. Because I didn’t have to be the strong one anymore. No. I have Fen.

I head to the bathroom and open the medicine cabinet, finding a giant bottle of Advil. The thing must’ve been purchased from Costco, so I untwist the cap, ready to pour a small handful of them into a ziplock for safekeeping when a tiny square bag clogs the container’s opening.

Brows pinching, I stick my finger into the bottle and pull out the piece of plastic and realize exactly what it is.

No.

No, no, no, no.

My hand covers my mouth as I stare at the tiny white pills through the clear bag like they’re a cancer.

Because they are.

Not literally, but they spread like one, infecting their host and those around them in a way I wouldn’t wish on my greatest enemy.

I slide onto my ass and bring my knees to my chest, convinced I’m seeing things.

How?

When?

I thought he was better.

He promised.

I thought––

“Hey, Hads,” Fen calls, his heavy footsteps bringing him into the bathroom where I’m caught lifelessly staring at the one thing with the ability to take Fender from me.

When he sees me with my ass on the cold tile, the tiny bag of pills splayed haphazardly next to me, he pauses.

“Hads––”

“I thought you’d stopped.”

“What? I have!”

I look up at him, my gaze hardening. “Then where did these come from?”

His jaw works furiously as he crouches down beside me. “I can explain––”

I shake my head. “I don’t want an explanation.”

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