Page 70 of Enticing My Off Limits Billionaire

"They uh...they basically told me that if I don't get off heroin, my liver is shot," he mutters. "Like...one more time, and I'm done."

My eyes widen as I try to process what he just told me. "Adam—what the fuck? I didn't know it was that bad. I'm so sorry—"

"It's not your fault," he says. "You've done literally everything you can."

"Shit," I curse, shaking my head. "I didn't do enough."

"Hey, man," he says. "Sometimes you just have to let me struggle. You know...I talked to some folks at rehab who just kept telling me how lucky I was to have a safe place to go back to when I spend my rent money on my next fix. And they're right. I don't know where I'd be without you, Quinn."

I don't know what to say, so I reach over and put a hand on his arm. He looks up at me, and there's something so vulnerable in his expression that I have to look away.

We sit there in silence for a while until Adam finally speaks up again. "You know, I'm happy you found someone. Maybe it'll give you something else to focus on besides me, huh?"

I give him a weak smile. "Maybe. But don't think I'm going to stop worrying about you."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he grins.

We finish our coffee, and I get up to put the cups in the sink. I can feel the weight of everything pressing down on me, and I don't know how much longer I can keep it together. But I can't let Adam see me crack.

It's given me a lot to think about.

A lot to potentially grieve over.

And I know that now, more than ever, I'll have to call my parents...because they'll want to know if Adam has a limited amount of time left, no matter how awful they are.

Things don't really settle down until the evening when Adam finally goes to bed, and I get a chance to reach out to Madison. I thought she would at least text, but I haven't heard anything from her, and she was supposed to be back to spend the night again tonight.

Her stuff is still here.

And I hope...I just hope I haven't scared her off.

I'm sitting in the living room and trying to focus on a book when I hear a knock at the door, and I get up to answer it in a hurry. I find Madison on the other side, shadows under her eyes, her hair pulled back into a haphazard bun. I frown as I let her in, watching as she listlessly puts her bag on the floor and—for the first time ever—ignores a very needy Stanley.

"Hey," I say quietly. "I was getting worried."

She meets my eyes. "Sorry...I didn't mean to scare you."

"That's fine," I say, putting my hands on her shoulders. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm..." she trails off, then shakes her head. "I spent most of the day with Kylie in the hospital.

My eyebrows shoot up. "What?"

"She's fine!" Madison says, her voice sharp like she's not quite sure if Kylie's fine. "I just...what if something bad had happened and I didn't know?"

I frown. "What do you mean?"

"I turned my phone off so I could forget about that whole thing, and she ended up in the hospital that week," Madison says. "I mean...Kylie is my best friend, and I wasn't there for her."

"Sometimes people turn off their phones," I cut in. "It's okay—"

"It's not," she says. "I fucked up. You need to let me own this."

Her exact phrasing messes with me a little, reminding me of my conversation with Adam this morning. The way I always jump in to take responsibility isn't always helpful.

And Madison is going through the wringer right now.

She doesn't want me to take on all her problems for her, or she'll never grapple with them.

---