Page 111 of A Love That Broke Us
Alley knows. How could she not? The way she looks at me—or doesn’t. The way she goes quiet when I come in late. The way she pulls away at night. She practically ignores me. She’s distant, like she doesn’t even give a shit anymore. Our marriage is barely hanging on. And it’s all because of me—because of my selfishness. My weakness. My failures. I’ve become everything I swore I wouldn’t.
I’m a fucking fraud.
Matt looks at me like he’s trying to figure out where his loyalties lie.
“Okay,” he finally says, quiet. “I won’t tell her.”
My shoulders sag with relief.
“But you have to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“You stop. You get help. Or I tell her my fucking self.”
I get home before Alley,my night cut short for obvious reasons. I head straight to our closet and pull a pair of socks from the drawer. Emptying my pockets, I set my wallet on the dresser along with the Altoids tin.
I open the lid and count.
Thirty.
It’s not enough. It will barely get me through the week. If I space them out, maybe I can make them last ten days. Maybe.
I push the pills to the side, revealing a small, clear plastic baggie of white powder.
Seth said it was clean—top shelf. Just something to pick me up. To balance the scales when I’m dragging.
I won’t need it this weekend. But we’ve got a few things coming up—Megan’s birthday party, our anniversary, Zach and Joey’s wedding next month. I’m determined to show up for all of it. Not just be there—be there. I need to be present and fun. I need to be me. For Alley.
She needs a normal night out. She deserves to laugh, to dance. To have the version of me she married. I can’t show up as a zombie.
The Oxy doesn’t make me tired anymore, but it makes me bland. And unless I snort it, I barely feel anything. It just takes the edge off. Without it, I’m short. Irritable. Impatient. That’s not me. At least, it didn’t used to be.
My libido’s shot to shit too, and honestly? I don’t even care. I can’t remember the last time Alley and I had sex.
I’m almost too chill. But the pills help me breathe. They help me make it through each day without pain.
Yeah. I’ll definitely need this soon.Maybe I’ll try it next weekend, test it out. Make sure it works.
I scoop the pills into my palm, then dump them into a sock and roll it tight. I shove the sock into a small, hidden pocket inside my backpack. Next, I pick up the bag of coke, flicking off the loose powder. I carefully tape it to the inside of my iPad, flat and secure. The cover conceals it completely. No one touches my iPad. Not even Alley.
I slide it into the sleeve of my pack and let out a slow breath.Two grand.Two fucking grand.
And I’ll need more next week.
It’s not usually this much, but Seth had to pull some strings. I don’t know how long I can keep this up without Alley noticing. Thank God she doesn’t pay attention to the finances. That’s all me.
We’re fine—really, we are. More than fine, even. But soon, I’ll have to start pulling from other places, savings, investments. It’s only a matter of time. I just need to get through the next two months. I need to be there for Alley. Then I’ll get off them. I’ll get off everything.
I just have to make it to the wedding. That’s it. Then I’m done.
The week’s been brutal.End-of-month pressure has everyone on edge, scrambling to hit goals. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I want to do tonight is go on this double date.
Scarlett has a new boyfriend that she’s eager to introduce to Alley and me. I’ve got to be on my A-game. Charming. Engaged. Present. And I’m just… not feeling it. It’s important to Alley, important to Scarlett, and fuck, it’s a lot of pressure.
Especially because I’m dragging. I could crawl into bed right now and call it. What I need is a serious pick-me-up.
I button the last button on my shirt and reach for my belt, my mind drifting to the iPad. To the powder tucked safely inside.I could just do a little. Just enough to feel normal.
