Page 106 of Employing Patience

I sigh. “Well, you know how when you push someone, they can tell you that thing they got starry-eyed over as a kid? I can’t. Not even if I really think about it. I don’t have a dream beyond not hating what I do and being able to afford to pay my bills.”

“That shouldn’t be such a high bar to reach.”

I think about everything Nevele Ounces did for me and let it sink in. Really let it impact me. And while I’m lying there, looking up into the face of the man who gave me so much freedom, I can’t hold my guilt against him. It’s my issue. “It shouldn’t,” I agree. “But it is for a lot of people.”

“Can I ask why you always knew you couldn’t have dreams?”

I break eye contact. “My parents were bad people. Well, I suppose they didn’t start out that way, but unfortunately, substance abuse is more addictive than looking after your own kids. They went between being too high to notice us to lashing out when they couldn’t get a fix. So I took my sisters one day and left. They’ve never even tried to find us.”

I understand that addiction isn’t something to be ashamed of and get that it can sneak up on people, that coping in this hard world isn’t easy. But as a child of two addicts, it always brings me down that I was never enough to make them try to recover.

“Would you want them to?”

“I …” My chest hurts when I think about them. “No. My emotions try to trick me into wanting that, but I know if they came here, everything would end up so much worse.”

“Fair enough.”

“Can we please stop talking about depressing things now?”

“Of course. But so you know, it doesn’t bother me. I like knowing whatever you want to share.”

“And you’re not judging me for being a poor little son of a junkie?” I try to inject humor into my tone because it’s how I deal with the past. Talk about it like it was funny, a party joke. Something that never happened to me.

“I get the feeling you judge yourself enough.”

“Somebody thinks they’re smart.”

He smiles and leans down to press a kiss to my forehead. “Let’s go.”

“The night’s over already?” I whine.

He laughs and stands, then helps me to my feet. “Nope. You’re staying with me tonight.”

I check the time. “The bar’s still going to be busy though. People will definitely see us together.”

He cocks his head and studies me. “Would that bother you?”

“Fuck no. I don’t give a shit who knows.”

“Good.” He tucks my hair back behind my ear. “But we’re not going to the bar.”

“So where are we—”

“My place. I want you to spend the night.”

The way my heart swells at those words catches me off guard. “Who knew you even had a place,” I joke. “Everyone thinks you live at work.”

“I know. There are only a handful of people who’ve ever been in my space.”

“And … you want one of those people to be me?”

Art’s stare grazes my face, forehead to chin, and when our eyes meet, vulnerability gazes back at me. “I do.”

My fingers slide through his. “Whenever you’re ready, then.”

32

ART

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