The Life That Mattered (Life #1)(81)

“Ronin …” Her blue eyes met mine, a sea of disbelief. “What are you doing with these? You …” She shook her head. “You told me one week … just one week after I found the bottle in your pocket. You said you were tapering off. It’s been months. Months! Ronin … what are you doing? Th-these are addictive drugs. Are you—”

“Addicted?” I snatched the bottle from her hand and slipped it into the inside pocket of my suit jacket. “No. I’m not addicted.”

She mirrored my posture with a clenched jaw, eyes unblinking as she stared at me with an unrelenting anger. “Did someone else not die? Did you save another life? Bring back the dead?”

“No. But in case you hadn’t noticed, Lila is still in a cast.” I angled my body to slide past her to make my escape. “We need to go. We’re going to be late, birthday girl.”

“Lila’s leg doesn’t hurt.” Evelyn followed me out to the living room.

I held up her cream wool coat like a gentleman to help her put it on. She stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, no intention of sliding those arms into the coat.

I sighed, draping the coat over her shoulders. “Did I ever mention I went through a lot of schooling to become an EMT? I have to take additional training to keep up my license. I know a thing or two about pharmaceuticals. Now, please, baby … can we talk about this later if you feel the need for more talking? Your friends are waiting. We don’t want to be late.” I grabbed our overnight bag. Since we had Sue watching the kids all night, we were staying in Denver—at Porter Suites.

Champagne.

A huge room with a city view.

And my naked birthday girl.

The longer I stood there engaging in her stare off, the guiltier I looked. So I opened the door and waved my hand, shooing her out to the car. She narrowed her eyes but obliged. I hadn’t heard the end of that lecture, but I hoped it was dropped for the night.

As expected, she gave me the silent treatment on the way to the airport. We were greeted on the Porter jet with an open bar and privacy. Graham told me I should use that opportunity to join the Mile High Club if I hadn’t already.

I took Evelyn’s coat from her and handed it, along with mine, to the flight attendant.

“Anything else I can get you, sir?” he asked.

“We’re good. Thank you.”

“I’ll give you some privacy. Push this button here if you need anything.”

“Great. Thanks.” Even he knew I was supposed to be doing the Mile High Club activities on the way to Denver. As we took off, Evelyn gripped the arms of the seat, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. Once we were in the air, I unfastened my seatbelt and reached forward for her foot, pulling it onto my lap, removing her shoe, and massaging her sexy foot, admiring her newly painted toenails.

She ignored me, tipping her chin to her chest, focusing on her phone.

After massaging both of her feet and getting the cold shoulder the whole time, I poured two glasses of champagne. “You look like you could use a drink.” I tried to hand her the champagne flute, but she ignored it.

“Dizziness, mental confusion, nausea, vomiting, apathy, and difficulty breathing …” She read from her phone screen. “Those are just a few short-term effects of mixing opioids with alcohol. Long-term effects include impaired vision, mood swings, liver disease, and increased risk of overdose and death.” Evelyn glanced up from her phone, pinning me with a hard look. “But surely you know this since you’ve had extensive medical training and know a thing or two about pharmaceuticals. Right?” She canted her head.

Leaning back in my seat, I set the two glasses of champagne aside and folded my hands in my lap. “Fine. I won’t drink. What will it take for you to let this go for one day?”

She grunted a laugh as her eyebrows slid up her forehead. “One day? My husband has an opioid addiction that he’s been hiding from me, and I’m supposed to let it go for one day? What’s one more day? I don’t know … maybe when I see Lila, I’ll ask her if one more day is reasonable to give someone with a drug addiction.”

“Jesus …” I rubbed my face, closing my eyes. “I’m not a fucking drug addict, Evie.”

“That’s what all addicts say until they hit rock bottom—if they live to hit rock bottom—and check themselves in for treatment.”

“Treatment?” I dropped my hands and my jaw, agitated we were having such a ridiculous conversation. “You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”

Tears reddened her eyes as she clenched her jaw. “I am a scientist with a background in chemistry. Do you know how fucking insulting it is for you to look at me like I’m crazy? Like I don’t know what I’m talking about? The very day I found that first bottle of pills in your pocket, I poured through every bit of research I could find on opioids. I guarantee I know more about them than you do by this point. I knew there was a chance you were already addicted that day, even after only a week. But I know that there is a one hundred percent chance that you have an opioid addiction after taking them for months.”

“That is not true.” I shook my head.

“Lila’s pain is gone!” She slammed her fists on the armrests and the tears won over. “What are you doing?” Her words broke apart as her tears painted black mascara lines down her cheeks. “My …” She swallowed hard. “My mom is dying. You’re going to leave me too, and I will hate you for letting this end our life together. I will hate you for leaving me to explain to our kids why they no longer have a father.”