Page 49 of When We Had Forever
His smile falters. “My secret?”
“Yeah. The thing you wanted to tell me before we had sex.”
Another silence unfurls as he searches my face.
My heart lurches. Maybe he hasn’t been entirely up front with me, but he’s never looked...cageylike this. Never purposely lied. But I have the unsettling sense that he wants to right now. That he’s actively considering it.
I poke his muscled side. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
He breaks from my gaze to look out the windows. “Yeah. It’s just...humiliating. Like most secrets.”
“Humiliating? Come on. You’re talking to the same girl who said you could go broke, gain a hundred pounds, and lose your home, and she’d love you just the same.”
He refocuses on me with intensity, as if seeing me anew. “That’s quite a statement.”
“It is,” I murmur, holding his eyes. “And I meant it. I still do.”
He chews on his hesitation a moment longer. Finally, he clears his throat. “Okay then, here goes. I’m an alcoholic. There. Now you know.”
“Wait, what? No, you’re not.” The wheels in my mind grind. To be fair, Michael does like his Scotch and his wine. But I’ve only seen him tipsy enough to find everything hilarious, not to regret anything the next day. “You never have more than a couple drinks.”
He makes a throaty sound. “When I say ‘alcoholic,’ I don’t necessarily mean I drink too much. I mean Iwantto. I crave it. All the time.”
“Oh. Okay.” I pretend to understand, though in reality, I feel adrift. The sex we just had transformed me, but now this whole conversation feels off-kilter, as if something has knocked him for a loop. Something more than just a day spent in jail.
But I want to support him. And I’m burning with my own big decision. Maybethatwill wield enough power to get us back on track. “We’ll pour all our alcohol down the drain, then. I won’t drink anymore, either, if that’ll help. Booze isn’t nearly as important to me as you are. Nothing is. Not even Greece.”
He stills, as if already knowing what I’ll say next.
“I finally decided, while you were gone.” I swallow. “I’m not going. I’d rather stay with you. For today. And the today after that. And the today after that, too.”
The darkness obscures his expression. “But...”
When he doesn’t continue, I breathe, “What?”
“I thought this was it,” he says. “I know you missed your flight today, but I figured we’d get you to the airport tomorrow.”
A shiver rips through me. I roll atop him in a straddle, taking his face in my hands. “Is that what you want?” My shadow looms across him, hiding his face.
“I...”
I hold my breath for what feels like an eternity. The same helpless finality that paralyzed me earlier, when his phone wouldn’t connect, comes rushing back.
“Ishould,” he says.
“You shouldn’t.” My voice hitches. “I mean, I get that you think us being together will stop me from living. But it won’t. Because this, right here, with you—it’s the most alive I’ve ever been. There might’ve been a hole in me when we met, but you’ve filled it. And now that I know about this alcohol thing, I can do the same for you. Compared to that, Greece means nothing. I’d rather be here. With you.Foryou.”
His fingers come up to knead my bare thighs. I fold forward onto his chest, seeking the reassurance of his heartbeat.
“You’d do that?” he murmurs. “Just...change your plans? After I told you I have an addiction?”
“Of course.” In an attempt to cross the unfamiliar distance, I invoke the same words he used at the observatory. “I’m desperately in love with you, after all. Addiction or no.”
His chest rises and falls beneath my cheek.God,please say something.
When he doesn’t, I rush to fill the quiet. “You’ve taken better care of me this past month than anyone else ever has. I want to stay, not just as your girlfriend, but as an accountability partner.”
“Like an angel sitting on my shoulder?” he muses.
