Page 63 of Salvaged Heart
We drifted off to sleep together, curled up on the too-small hospital bed. It was a wonder we both fit. I half expected to be woken by a nurse shooing me away, but they let us sleep, most likely knowing that this was the first sleep I'd allowed myself since he'd been admitted. My body was exhausted, but with him finally pressed back up against me, I could relax enough to allow myself to doze.
I dreameda terrible dream of what the world would have looked like if I’d taken even a minute longer getting to him if I had decided to stay outside while Laurel took her time. I tried to force away those images and replace them with reality.He was okay.This was just a slip-up, one we both had been very aware could happen. One I had been ready for, thank God.
It was late afternoon by the time we roused. I woke to Anders’ soft lips pressing into my forehead, the act so tender it lit me all the way up inside. I couldn’t wait to get him home and curl up with him properly in a bed we could both fit in comfortably. I’d show him how much I needed him, how happy I was that he was part of my life, and how much I loved him.
But it would be a while before that was possible. The doctors were keeping him here for another night, possibly two—mandatory seventy-two-hour suicide watch. The phrase pulled at the muscles in my chest, making me feel tight and itchy. I didn’t think Anders had meant to kill himself. I thought he just needed to escape the pain he was feeling, and the overdose was accidental. However, Dr. White, who had been in to see him briefly, advised it was a hospital procedure, given the circumstances. “Anders has used for a long time, Beck. He knew what the outcome of taking a dose that size would be.”
Margery had been calling different rehab centers in the area all morning and had gotten Anders a placement at an inpatient facility thirty minutes away from the city. He would be leaving here and heading straight there. This had always been his plan, but I’d tricked myself into thinking his need for rehab had passed and that if I continued to support him, it would be enough.
I’d been so foolish.
“After the first thirty days, he can have visitors, and you’ll be able to call, even write if you want to.” Laurel squeezed my hand. “I know it’s hard, but he needs this.”
The complete ninety-day program felt like such a long time, though. Longer than I'd even known him, my heart ached fiercely, thinking of what his absence would feel like. Better than the alternative if the alternative was him being dead.
“Did you sleep much?” His voice already sounded better, stronger, color tinging his cheeks again.
“Yeah, you?”
“All I’ve done since I got here is sleep.”
“That’s good, though.”
He hummed thoughtfully and shifted his body away from me slightly as I sat up. I leaned in to kiss him, but his hand came to my chest, stopping me before my lips could meet his. I didn’t read too much into it. If I had been stuck in a hospital bed for days, I wouldn’t want to be kissed either. I shuffled down the mattress a little to give him some space, keeping one of my hands on his thigh, hoping it would ground him like it grounded me.
“We should probably talk.” He mumbled, and suddenly, he looked so timid, so unsure. He was beating himself up for what happened, and I couldn’t let him do that.
“There is nothing to discuss. You’re alive and will be just fine. That’s all that's ever mattered to me.” All thatwouldever matter,but I kept that bit to myself. “You’ll get out of this hospital, do your time in rehab like we planned, and then we'll figure the rest out together.” I tried to give him my best reassuring smile, but it was clear that Anders was deep in his head.
“Beck.” He looked down at his hands. “I can’t do this.”
I wish I knew how to reassure him, but I'd never been in his shoes. I’d known he would take this slip up hard, but he needed to know that was all it was. He would come back from this and be so much stronger because of it. I made a mental note to speak with Kara for advice on how to relate to him better and how to be the support he truly needed. There were groups, she’d told me before, I could join. I’d do anything for him.
“Yes, you can, Anders. You’ve already done the hard work. This is just a bump in the road. You will beat this. I believe in you, baby.” And it was the truth. I knew Anders wanted to be sober more than anything. He'd already shown me he was dedicated, had already been through the worst of it, and came out victorious.
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
I stayed quiet, letting him gather his thoughts, my heart beating a chaotic rhythm in my chest.
“I can’t do us, me and you.”
Wait, what?I don’t know what I expected him to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. I must have misheard him, misunderstood what he was trying to tell me, but a lump was already forming in my throat. “Why the hell not?”
“It’s too much.” He whispered.
I wanted nothing more than for him to look me in the eyes so I could understand where this was coming from, but he refused to meet mine.
“Maybe if I'd been sober longer, we could have stood a chance of being something, but I have to put my recovery first.”
“You know I support you. I’ll do whatever you need me to do to help you through this. You’ve just got to tell me.” He had to know that.
“What I need is space.”
I didn’t know why he was saying all this. All I knew was that my heart was breaking. I reached for his hand, needing to feel his touch to wake me up from whatever nightmare I'd slipped into, but he pulled it away.
“Beck, I’m an addict.”
“That doesn’t change anything for me. We've been through the hardest part already, and that’s what brought us together. We can do it again.” Things didn’t need to be perfect. I just needed him to let me love him.
