The Treatment (The Program #2)(29)

“It was an impossible choice! There was only one pill—how could I choose?”

“Easy. I gave it to you.”

I shake my head. “And what about the danger? How was I supposed to take that leap of faith while people are going crazy from their memories? That’s what happened to Lacey!”

“The pill isn’t like recall. It’s not a stress fracture. It brings back what The Program locked away, and sure, it hurts, but it wouldn’t have killed you.”

I lean toward him, trying to keep my voice hushed, but I’m failing. “Oh, that’s very comforting. But this wasn’t just about James. Your sister told me I might not like what I found in my past. I don’t know who I was, Realm. But I know who I am now. What’s wrong with wanting to live in the now?” Realm’s expression softens, and he stretches his hand in my direction, just short of touching mine. “There’s nothing wrong with it,” he says. “Was that all Anna told you?”

“She said I might not forgive you. Why? What have you kept from me?” I don’t remember much of my time in The Program. There are fragments, bits where I was playing cards or laughing with Realm. But my past is gone, as are the pasts of others. Somehow Realm held on to my history. He didn’t tell me right away, not until I demanded it. I can feel he has more secrets; his sister all but confirmed that he does. Yet . . . I still trust him. I trust him even though I know he’s lying to me.

“Anna never wanted me to remember. She said the past would be too painful. And to be honest, I can understand where she’s coming from. But I’ve told you everything I can, Sloane,” Realm says, clearly frustrated. “That has to be enough.

If you take the pill, you’ll know the truth.”

“And if I don’t take it? If I give it to James, what will he remember?”

Realm’s eyes narrow at the thought of me giving his gift to James instead. “Maybe he’ll realize you don’t belong together.” I try to retract my hand, but Realm grabs it. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I’m sorry, sweetness. Don’t leave.”

“Like you left me?” The words hit me, and the grief and worry I felt about Realm’s sudden disappearance crashes down. “You gave me a stupid pill and then you left me,” I whisper.

Realm winces and brings my hand to his lips. “I know,” he murmurs into my skin. “But I love you so much.” He kisses my knuckles. “I wanted you to have a chance to remember.” My wrist. His touch radiates over my skin, twisting me up, confus-ing me. “Tell me that you missed me too.” My breathing deepens as Realm kisses my inner forearm.

He’s inside my head—I know it. But I can’t deny I missed him.

I did. I really, really did.

“I missed you,” I whisper as his hand slides up my arm, cupping my shoulder to pull me close enough to kiss. In front of me, Realm’s deep brown eyes are earnest but dark. Dark and tortured. It brings me back to my senses, and Realm must read it in my expression because his jaw hardens.

“James doesn’t love you,” he says slowly, his breath warm across my lips. “If he did, he would have made you take that pill.” There’s a sound, and both Realm and I turn to see James standing in the doorway. He’s still, his expression unreadable.

I push Realm’s hand away and jump back from the table, but I know it’s too late. James saw—heard—all of that. He doesn’t look at me again, only continues to stare at where I was sitting.

And then, without a word, James turns and leaves.

The walk to the bedroom seems endless. My heart thuds, my mouth is dry. James heard my and Realm’s conversation, saw Realm close enough to kiss me. How could I have let that happen?

“James?” I call softly as I push open the door to our room.

The closet door is ajar, the chain for the light still swaying.

“Do you think he’s right?”

I spin and find James in the far corner of the room. He doesn’t sneer, or anything even remotely hateful. He just looks heartbroken, unable to meet my eyes. In his fist he clutches the plastic Baggie.

“About the pill?” I ask, wanting nothing more than to fix the damage I’ve inflicted. James would have never let another girl get that close to him, and Dallas sure tried.

James looks up, his blue eyes rimmed in red. “About me,” he says. “Do you think I should have made you take the pill?” I start to say no, but James has already made up his mind.

Realm’s words have shaken him, made him doubt everything.

It’s as if Realm knows exactly how to hurt us.

James holds out the wrapped pill, but I can’t even look at it, so he shoves it into his back pocket. “James—” I start.

“No more lies,” he interrupts. “Right now, with Realm, what was that? Christ, Sloane. Did you sleep with him?”

“Of course not!”

“I heard you. You missed him.” His lips pull apart in anguish, his eyes weaken. “You nearly kissed him. I . . . I saw all of it, and not once”—he jabs his finger in my direction—“did you tell him to stop.”

Tears drip onto my cheeks, but there’s nothing I can say. I have no excuse. I did miss Realm; I didn’t lie about that. There’s an unspoken bond between us that doesn’t seem connected to any specific memory. I trust Realm with my life. And sometimes he uses that against me.