Addicted for Now (Addicted #2)(103)

I should have just told her on the beach.

And I don’t know what propels me to do it—maybe thinking that one simple thing, maybe feeling the regret—but I pop my head from my burrow. “Daisy?” I look around and find her standing by her chair.

She is crying.

And I’m not sure if it’s because I am or because she’s mad at me.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I meant to tell you.”

“It’s true?” she asks, wiping her face quickly like Lo had, not wanting me to see. It’s as though they can’t cry because I am. I hate that. It makes no sense, and it drives me to dam my waterworks sooner rather than later.

“I’m…” I can’t say it. Why can’t I just say it? My sister deserves more than me weeping and hiding away. I wipe my nose with the back of my arm and sit up straight. I slide from Lo’s lap, but he intertwines my fingers with his. It helps. It makes me not want to drown so much.

“It’s okay,” Daisy says what Lo has been repeating. She rubs all of her tears. “It’s fine, you don’t have to explain.” Daisy hates to see people upset. I forgot that about her. She just wants everyone to be happy.

But all the pain that it’s going to take to admit this to my sister—I need to feel it. Telling Rose was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but this is worse. Because I told Rose on my own accord, but in this instance, someone has played my hand, forcing me into it.

There is no compassion in telling her my secret. It’s just…necessary.

Very softly, I say, “I’m a sex addict.”

Her tears have dried up. And she nods. My strong, fearless sister. “And Mom…does she know?”

I shake my head once.

“Dad?”

“No.”

Daisy glances at Ryke. “You knew.”

“It’s complicated.”

Daisy nods again, trying to understand, I think. Her eyes go to Connor. “And you knew.”

“And Rose. That’s it,” Connor says.

Rose. My eyes flicker to the back cabin door where the bed lies. I wish she was here. She’s like a prickly iron chair that will weather any battle.

“But not Poppy?” Daisy asks me.

“Not Poppy,” I say, “and I only told Rose six months ago. I would have told you sooner, but I was…am—I’m ashamed.” Tears build again. “You’re my little sister. I didn’t want you to see me like this.” I am the f*ck up. The broken, pathetic one now. I can no longer dole out sisterly advice and expect the same admiration in return. Everything will change.

Her dark eyebrows bunch together, such an ugly expression for someone so beautiful. “You’re still the same person, Lily. I just…I have to get my head around this.” Her eyes flicker to Lo. “How long have you known?”

We meet each other’s gaze. How long has he known? How long have I known? Setting a date seems like trying to pin down when a growth spurt begins and ends. Immeasurable time.

Thinking about it reminds me of all the moments we’ve shared. From childhood to adolescence to adulthood. We have lived together, loved together, and f*cked up together. I’m not sure many people can truly say that about someone else.

His eyes soften and he turns to Daisy. “Awhile.”

Awhile. That seems right.

Daisy opens her mouth to ask another question, but a Bob Dylan song starts playing from her pocket. She pulls out her phone the same time something vibrates near my leg. Lo fishes out his own cell.

A chime and another vibration go off and both Connor and Ryke look at theirs. We must have hit an area in the sky with good cell reception. Who knows how long people have been calling?

“It’s Mom,” Daisy says.

“My therapist,” Lo tells me.

“My mom,” Ryke adds.

We all look to Connor. His eyes flit up to Lo’s. “The private investigator. I have to take this.” He retreats to the back cabin where Rose sleeps. We still don’t know who leaked the information, but maybe we will now—not that it matters. What’s done is done.

Daisy’s phone keeps playing “Shelter from the Storm” and everyone sits on edge the longer they ignore their calls.

“Go talk to them,” I say.

Daisy sniffs and stares at her phone. “I just like this song.”

Ryke puts a hand on her shoulder. “Rose should talk to your parents first anyway.”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay.” She clicks the green button and puts the receiver to her ear. Daisy risks sitting by Melissa since she’s secluded in the most private alcove of the whole plane. (Besides the bathroom, that is.) Melissa stays frozen in her seat, uncomfortable and bit stunned by everything.

“I have to go pee,” I mutter, about to stand up. I can imagine the sheer horror on my father’s face. On my mother’s. I don’t think I can ever confront them.

Lo grabs my wrist before I rise from the couch. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“I just have to pee,” I tell him again, tugging his hand off me.

He gives me a look like do you really?

No, I don’t. I want to cry in solitude. I guess he knows this, and I understand his fear that I’ll avoid my emotions with self-love like I’ve done in the past.