Page 95 of The Fix

“Toby, I’m sorry, but … I can’t.”

“Anna, please don’t walk away. Not yet.”

Biting my lip, I swipe away at the tears staining my lashes. “Why not?”

“I … There’s so fucking much I wanna say to you, baby, but I didn’t wanna do it over the phone like this.” I hear rustling, like maybe he’s shaking his head. “I had this whole fucking plan …” His voice muffles, thickens. “I’m sorry, Anna. I’m sorry for all the bullshit I put you through. Especially the shit you don’t know about. And I swear I’m gonna say all this again to your face as soon as I see it. Just, please, wait five more weeks.”

“It’s more than five weeks, Toby.” I sniffle.

“Five weeks, five days, fourteen hours. I promise, I’m counting them by the second.”

“It’s not that simple. It will never be that simple.”

“Why not?

His question, loaded and aimed right for where I’m weakest for the man, has me hanging my head. “Toby, I’ve seen what substance abuse does to people.”

“I know—”

“You don’t,” I cut in, more gusto to my voice than I thought I could muster. “You have no clue what happens after.”

“Then tell me,” Toby begs into the receiver. “You never talk about yourself unless it’s negative and maybe if I know what you know, I can make sure it doesn’t happen.”

“No.”

Another stretch of silence falls over the line.

Until finally, he asks the right question. The one I don’t want to have to answer, but I’m going to.

“No to what?”

Dragging in a deep breath, despite the splintering of my heart, I say what needs to be said.

“No to this, Toby. No to you and I hooking up. It shouldn’t have happened to begin with.”

Because to him, that’s all it was between us, anyway.

“Fine.”

One word. Smashed into a single quip rolling off Toby’s talented tongue and my heart splinters a little more.

“Right. Okay, then. Good talk.”

With a shake to my hands and a grit to my jaw, I force back the emotion building behind my eyes and pull the phone away from me, preparing to hit the big red button on the screen.

“It’s not hooking up if you’re mine, right?”

He’s out of his mind.

My eyes slide closed, and I ignore the quake that rakes over my entire body at the prospect.

He’s not in his right mind.

Sighing, I blink back the collection on my lashes and tap the edge of the phone to my temple. “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean, and I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t want to know, either.”

“That sounded like a roundabout way of saying maybe.”

“I can’t with you. You’re so freaking exhausting.”

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