Page 105 of Imperfect Player

“You want to understand? Fine. Understand this. I’m not the guy for you. I tried. I failed. It’s who I am, what I am. I’m not worth your time. I’m not worth anyone’s time.”

“Want to know what I think?” I don’t give him an opportunity to answer. I don’t care if he wants to know or not, he’s going to hear what I have to say. “I think you’re an amazing man who was dealt a shit hand.”

“I am not amazing.”

“Give me one valid reason why.”

“Because I’m letting my little brother die.” The words drain him, making him stumble back and rest against the wall. “I’m letting a kid die because . . . because I hate him for being the one that they loved.”

The little boy in the picture—his brother.

“Oh, Ethan.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t pity me.”

“It’s not pity.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s empathy.”

“Whatever it is, take it and get out.”

He shoves off the wall, walking away from me. The breath I hadn’t even realized I had been holding releases.

Straightening my back, I square my shoulders and stand taller.

“What the fuck is it going to take for you to go away?” he shouts.

I smile at him. My answer is simple. “You, sober, telling me to go.” I round the island and stand before him. “Otherwise, I’m not leaving. Not now. Not ever.”

“Huge mistake.”

“It’s my mistake to make.”

“You deserve better than me.”

“I deserve better than you in this moment, maybe. But not better than you. You’re a good man, Ethan.”

“Sure as fuck don’t feel like one.”

Leaving the bottle behind, Ethan makes his way back to the living room. He settles on the couch, his usual spot.

“You just going to stand there all day?”

I breathe a sigh of relief before joining him on the couch.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks me.

“Doing what?”

“Putting up with me. Dealing with my shit.”

“Because I care about you.”

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