Page 61 of Dear Roomie
She looks at me from under wet lashes with wide, red-rimmed eyes, and the ghost of a smile pulls at her lips before fading back into a sullen frown. My heart lurches.
“Playing,” she mumbles as her face drops back to the ground.
“Alone?” The floor creaks as I move to sit with her. “Where’s Kinsley?”
“She said dolls were for babies and that she wanted to stay with the big kids, like Jacqueline.” Her nose turns up into a sneer as she says the name, and I’m inclined to agree with the sentiment.
“Dolls aren’t for babies,” I tell her, reaching out to grab a doll of my own. “Can I play with you?”
Her eyes light up as she nods with enthusiastic vigor. I let her lead as she walks me through the complex, overly dramatic storyline she’s come up with for her toys. The dejected kid I found disappears, and in her place is the joyful, creative one I love so much. I wish she could stay like this forever, ignorant of the heartbreak and pain in the world, but that’s not life. All I can hope for is that after things end with Tanner, I’ll still be able to be there for the girls as they grow up.
“So this is where you both snuck off to,” Tanner says with an amused chuckle from the doorway.
Speak of the devil and all that.
She abandons her toys and jumps up with an excited shout of “Tanner” when she notices him leaning against the doorframe, watching us with a reverent smile. He places a glass tumbler of amber liquid on the dresser and meets his sister halfway, scooping her into his arms and swinging her around in circles while she squeals in delight. He sets her back on the ground and kneels down to her level, tucking a loose strand of hair back into place behind her ear.
“What are you doing up here, Raels? Mom has been looking for you,” he says in a soft tone.
“I was playing with Ophie,” she says, dropping her eyes to her feet and twisting her hands together.
“Hey, head up, kiddo.” He places a gentle finger under her chin and guides her eyes back up to meet his, then gives her a reaffirming smile when she does. “Did you have fun? I know you haven’t seen her in a while.”
“It was lots of fun.” Her voice rises with enthusiasm. “There were dragons and spies and a princess.”
“Did the spies slay the dragon?” he asks, giving his full attention to her rambling.
“No, the princess and the dragon were friends.”
“Of course, that makes much more sense,” he says, nodding seriously. “I hate to break up the fun, but you should run along before Mom finds you up here.”
She lets out an annoyed huff but listens to her brother and runs out of the room. Tanner shakes his head, but there’s nothing but affection on his face. He stands back up to his full height and walks over to where I’m still sprawled on the floor.
“Spies?” he asks, extending a hand to help me off the ground.
“Honestly, that’s news to me. I thought we were playing pop stars.” I take his outstretched hand, and he lifts me to stand in front of him, my chest mere inches from his. It’s too close, too personal. Fresh nausea churns in my gut; I don’t want him touching me. I try to pull away but stumble over the dolls littering the ground. Tanner wraps a hand around my waist to steady me, and he stares at me with an intensity that makes my skin crawl.
“You disappeared earlier,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Sorry, I wasn’t feeling well.” I take a step back, and Tanner drops his hand, letting me retreat. His face flashes with a look of pain, but it’s only there for a brief moment before it reverts back to the same mask of intensity. My arms fold in front of my chest, acting as a barrier between myself and his energy.
“Are you okay? I knew I should have followed you.” He squeezes the back of his neck while he rambles.
“I’m fine. It was just a headache. I went to lie down in your room, and it’s mostly gone now.” Guilt claws at my heart, but what’s one more lie added to the pile.
“If you say so,” he says, but he doesn’t sound convinced.
Letting out a heavy exhale, he goes to grab his glass, taking a large drink of the liquid inside. My face pinches with a grimace.Of course he’s drinking.
When he sees my expression, his face falls and his shoulders slump. “Fuck, O, it’s not what it looks like.” He starts to bring the glass over to me, but I stop him.
“I never said you had to stop drinking. That was never the issue.” The disdain in my voice says otherwise.
“Taste it, please,” he pleads, holding the glass out to me. With a resigned sigh, I grab the tumbler and take a sip, bracing for the burn of whiskey, but that’s not what washes over my tongue. I almost choke on the unexpected sweetness that overwhelms my taste buds. Tanner’s face relaxes when it’s clear I’ve made the connection.
“It’s apple juice. I-I’ve been sober for almost a month.” He turns his attention to the floor, unable to meet my gaze with the confession. “I meant what I said at the beach. I’m never touching any of that shit again. Not when it almost cost me you. I’ve been going to meetings and everything.”
“Oh.” That’s all I can say when my heart is breaking all over again. How can I break his when he’s trying so hard to make things right? What if that ruins this for him? What if he relapses because I decide to be a bitch and leave him while he’s struggling?
