Page 67 of Worlds Collide

Not even one year and I’m already back at Cove, the rehab center I came to after my accident.

Adrian, my therapist from my time here, is waiting for us at the door when we get out of the car, and my feeling of failure intensifies at the look on his face.

Only kindness, no judgment or disapproval at all.

I guess someone called ahead that we were going to arrive. I really don’t have the energy to think about who.

“Just take me to the freezer,” I tell him as soon as I’m close enough. The freezer is what everyone who’s checked-in calls the psychiatric-looking room where they leave us to detox for a few days. I know for a fact it won’t feel as torturous as it did last time, since this time around I’m not detoxing from more than a decade of tolerance building.

“Did you go on a bender?” he asks conversationally, and casual as fuck.

“Just one night. Three bottles,” I confess.

“I’m surprised you survived,” he says drily.

“Rich saved me again. From my own vomit this time.”

“You should give him a raise. Or a bonus,” he jokes, and he does make me feel better.

“I should give him a retirement package and put him out of his misery,” I speak the truth.

“Good luck getting rid of me,” Rich says from behind me. I hadn’t realized he’d followed us in. “You’re gonna let me stay again, Doc?” he asks Adrian.

“Of course, we already got your room ready.”

“Awesome. I have some catching up to do with a few series this one”—he points his thumb at me—“won’t let me watch because he says he wants to wait until the last season is out.”

“Your life is hard,” Adrian tells him, mock sympathy.

I snort and realize we’re at the freezer already.

“Here I go,” I mutter.

“Good luck,” Rich says with a way-too-happy smile on his face.

“Go fu—” I start but he slams the padded door in my face before I can finish.

Just as good, I guess.

TWENTY

CJ

Going back to rehab. I’m really sorry, I told you I’m no good for anyone. You can tell whoever you want how much of an asshole I am and bitch for the rest of forever. I really am sorry.

Max

A sob catchesin my throat.

“Seriously?!” I scream at the empty room—and empty house.

I don’t know how long ago Wolf left, but I know he did, and he more than likely took Rich with him. Especially if what he wrote is true.

And he signs it with the nicknameIgave him?

This man is the most stubborn, infuriating, broken, and fucking annoying person on the planet.

Why doI like him again?

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