Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
“So then why are we going to my apartment first? Let’s go get your medication.”
He shifts and clears his throat. “No, it’s okay.”
“Come on, Leo. Don’t be like this. I can take an Uber from your house if I need to. If you’re sick enough you couldn’t even get through dinner, let’s go get your medication.”
“It’s not like that. Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine.”
“This is bullshit. After the way you pushed me last night, and I spilled my guts to you? I’m not even asking what you have, I’m just saying go get your medication.”
I can see the tension in his jawline as he says, “Fine.”
Though I want to keep talking to him, I know if I say the wrong thing, he’ll change his mind. So I sit and worry about all the things that could be going on with him. Whatever it is, it can’t be easy to keep up with his schedule and the grueling physical requirements of hockey.
“Are you probably going to be alive in five years?” I ask, the not knowing killing me.
“Unless you kill me first, most likely.”
“What, like deliberately? Or do you mean the burden of even speaking to me might do you in?”
He flicks a quick look at me. “Both.”
“Yeah, you’re for sure being melodramatic.”
He laughs softly. “Maybe.”
A few minutes later, he pulls into a neighborhood of condos in a golf course community. It’s upscale, but nothing like Carter and Suki’s house. He uses an opener to open the double garage of one, pulling inside.
There’s not much in it. A bicycle. A bunch of golf stuff. A Cleveland Crush team poster hangs on one wall.
I get out of the car when he does, but he turns and stops me as I follow him.
“I can just go grab it real quick.”
“Can I come see Birdie?”
His dog grew on me in the time we spent together at Carter’s. She’s one of those dogs you can tell is grateful just to be warm and fed, because she hasn’t always been cared for.
He hesitates, then nods. I’m expecting his house to look like a dungeon or something, but it’s just an average bachelor pad. Functional furniture, white walls and minimal decor.
Birdie is waiting for him, her tail swishing back and forth as soon as she sees him.
“Hey, girl,” he says, bending down to pet her.
“Want me to take her out?” I ask, walking over to pick up her leash from the kitchen counter.
He practically lunges at me. “No, don’t.”
I set the leash back down and say, “Sorry.”
Cringing, he shakes his head. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s ...” He sighs heavily and walks over to the kitchen sink, picking up a pill bottle from a row of bottles next to the sink. “I didn’t want you to see these, that’s all.”
“Oh.” I take a step toward the door, wishing I hadn’t pushed him to let me come in. “I’ll just meet you at the car.”
He shakes his head, taking a pill from one of the bottles. “It’s okay. The meds are for anxiety and depression. So there you go. You were right all those times you said I’m not right in the head.”
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Probably because I’m the world’s biggest asshole and there’s literally no response to what he just said.
Chapter Fifteen
Leo
* * *
“I didn’t mean—I’m so sorry, Leo. When I said that, I was just being brash and reactive. I never really thought that.”
I shrug as I walk over to the fridge to get out a bottle of water. “It’s the truth.”
“No, it’s not. I was being an asshole. Just like all the times I said you probably have to pay for sex—obviously, you don’t. I just run my mouth. It’s a problem.”
After twisting off the cap of the bottle, I put the pill in my mouth and swallow it with water. Even though it doesn’t work this quickly, I immediately feel better. This medication is for situational high anxiety, and I really need to start carrying it with me all the time.
“I don’t care about the shit you’ve said about me,” I say. “Just please don’t tell anyone about this. No one knows.”
“It’s not something to be ashamed of. I took depression medication in college, and I went to therapy. Both things really helped me.”
I nod. “I go to therapy, too. But I’m nowhere near ready to go off my meds.”
“So what? Who says you need to?”
Birdie is nudging at Mara’s hand, trying to get some attention. Mara sits down on the kitchen floor, letting my dog into her lap.
“Did it come out of nowhere tonight, or was it something specific?”
Her tone is conversational, like we’re discussing our schedules or the weather. I expected her to be taken aback when I told her, and I’m not sure how to handle her reaction.