Page 15 of Angel
“But you’re going to.”
I nod. Because stopping feels like surrender. And I’m not ready for that. I swallow pill after pill. The taste coats my tongue. My sister leans against the counter.
“What happens if you skip one?” she asks casually.
“I don’t.”
“But what if you did?”
“I don’t,” I repeat, sharper now.
She studies me.
“You look exhausted.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not sleeping.”
“I’m tracking.”
She pushes off the counter and steps closer.
“Stevie.”
Something in her voice cracks the surface.
“Look at you.”
I don’t want to. But I do.My hands are trembling slightly. My shoulders are tight up near my ears, and my eyes feel hollow.
“I don’t recognize myself anymore,” I whisper.
And once it’s out, I can’t stop.
“Everything is numbers and rules and fear. I don’t know who I am if I’m not trying.”
The sob escapes before I can swallow it down. It rips through my chest like something breaking free. My sister pulls me into her arms, and this time I don’t resist.
I crumble.Hard. Ugly.Years of hope and disappointment pouring out of me in heaving breaths and shaking limbs.
“I can’t keep losing,” I choke. “I can’t keep getting excited just to bleed again.”
She strokes my hair.
“You’ve been carrying this alone.”
“I didn’t want to make it real.”
“It’s been real the whole time.”
“I’m scared,” I admit finally. “I’m scared it’ll never happen. That this is it. That I’m… defective.”
She pulls back just enough to look at me.
“You are not defective.”
“It feels like I am.”
