Page 73 of Unwanted

Jenika and I watch him as he retreats into his office.

“He’s come a long way.” She turns on a toe and I make sure to keep step beside her. “He’s come a long way, but I want you to know, his recovery is not dependent on you.”

“Sorry?” I wait for the doors to open automatically and gesture for her to exit first. “I don’t think I know what you’re getting at.”

“I saw your face,” she states. “I saw the moment his happiness and progress made you panic.”

I want to argue with her. But to argue what, I’m not sure. She was right, I had panicked. I was currently panicking.

“I don’t ever want to be the reason he relapses,” I confess.

“Frankie.” We both stop outside the entryway to the café when Jenika reaches for me. She grabs hold of my shoulder and squeezes. “You can only be someone’s reason to relapse if you were their reason to use.”

24

ARLO

Frankie had been quiet and pensive ever since he met Jenika. Lunch with him was quiet.

Dinner with him was quiet.

And now I was in bed early and alone.

Usually by this time we were in his room laughing and talking and making each other come.

I tried not to overthink it, but something had rattled him. Something had him deep in thought and I was sick with worry about what it could be.

My bedroom door creaks open, startling me out of my thoughts. With my back facing the door, I remain still and quiet, waiting and hoping it’s him.

When the sound of feet padding quietly across the wooden floor reaches my ears, I have to fight every urge in my body to turn around.

There’s a rustle of my sheets, and when long sturdy arms encircle my body, my heart sags in relief.

“I’m sorry about today,” he whispers. I place my arm over his and press him close to me. “I shut down instead of talking to you. And I know better than to do that.”

I turn in his arms. The moonlight streams into the room and silently I let my eyes dance around the distressed features of his face.

I place a hand on his cheek. “Talk to me.”

“I actually need you to talk to me,” he says. His eyes flutter closed as he inhales deeply. “What was it like after I left?”

So much had happened in the last four years and I knew it was just as imperative as it was inevitable for us to talk about it.

But I wasn’t prepared to burst our bubble. I felt like we both needed a warning or ground rules, but I also knew that we would eventuate into nothing if I wasn’t honest with him.

I try to swallow past the thick wedge of emotion lodged in the back of my throat before asking, “What exactly do you want to know?”

“Everything.” Mirroring my action, his hand finds my cheek. “I need to know everything you want to tell me and everything you don’t.” He presses a gentle kiss to my lips. “Tell me everything you think I should know.”

There was nowhere else to start but the beginning. Every step led me to where we are now, and there was nowhere else I wanted to be, even if the road to get here was full of darkness.

Frankie deserved to at least know that.

“Rehab was exactly how you’d think it would be,” I start. “The withdrawal was messy and a huge reality check.” I stare at him, dead in the eye. “I really thought I had it under control.”

His lips tip up subtly, offering me the saddest smile. “I know you did.”

“When did you realize it was a problem for me?”

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