Page 39 of The Ground Beneath Our Feet
“You are?”
I’d been scared to admit that to her. That she’d judge me. But the grateful expression she had was one I wanted to capture in my heart forever.
“Once an addict, always an addict.”
“We’re quite a pair then.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I think we were meant to meet.”
“So where do we go from here?”
“You know what the rule is? One day at a time.”
Her sobs had subsided. I walked with her to the bathroom and got her a washcloth for her face. I helped her wash her tears.
Then I gave her a squeeze, kissed the top of her head, and walked her back to her room.
“Baby?”
“Yeah.”
“I think we may need to get you some therapy.”
“Okay,” she said. “Do you want to go, too?”
“Nah. I don’t need it.”
She didn’t believe me, but she accepted it. I kissed her cheek, sighed, and went to my separate room.
For the first time since she’d moved in, she didn’t have a nightmare.
But I did.
I’d told her my deepest secret. But not the details.
I knew, I just knew, if I told her the truth she’d want nothing to do with me.
While she was a girl I could fall in love with—I wasn’t the kind of guy she could ever love.
Not with that black mark on my soul.
