Ricochet (Addicted #1.5)(56)

“If Ryke handed you the fucking phone—someone who definitely disapproves of our relationship—then I know it had to be bad. I want to know, Lil.” This is not how I imagined our conversation. I thought we’d avoid the topic like we’ve always done in the past. He briefly mentions alcohol. I’ll say a little bit about sex, but when things become messy and truly focus on our addictions, we abort.

“It wasn’t bad,” I mumble under my breath. “Ryke told me not to bring it up. I think we should talk about something else. You need to concentrate on your recovery, not worry about me.” I hesitate from going further. Dr. Banning invades my mind, and I can almost hear her saying that Ryke is wrong. That separating from Lo isn’t the answer. Finding a healthy way to be together is.

But does he still want me? I’m not so sure. I wipe my eyes.

He lets out a short, bitter laugh. “If you don’t tell me, I’m going to be worrying about it all fucking month, Lil. And Ryke hasn’t fully comprehended the fact that I’m going to eventually come home. And when I do, I’m going to be with you again. We’re going to have to start talking and reforming a better relationship. If I can’t handle this shit over the phone when I’m sober in rehab, then I shouldn’t be returning home anytime soon.”

All I hear is: I’m going to be with you again. I bring the receiver away from my mouth and wipe uncontrollable, silent tears that stream down in an avalanche. A huge pressure rises off my chest. I feel like I can breathe again.

“Lily?” he says in a frantic voice. “Lily, you there? Lily, dammit…”

I put the speaker back. “I’m here.”

I hear him exhale and breathe heavily. “Don’t do that. And don’t make me fucking guess what happened.”

I rest my back against the tub. “It’s embarrassing,” I admit.

“So?”

“So you really want to do this? To talk and stuff…”

“If we want to stay together, like really stay together and not go back to enabling each other, then yes, we’re going to have to talk. I need to know when you’re freaking out, and you need to know when I am so that we can stop each other from doing stupid shit.”

“Like the opposite of what we’ve been doing.” Dr. Banning said as much.

“Basically. Look, we’ve spent so much energy hiding each other’s addictions from our families. If we put that into helping one another, we just might be able to make this work.”

I like the game plan. It starts clearing that haze that has been clouding my future for so long. A picture begins to form of us when he returns. And I’m more overwhelmed by the fact that there will be an us after a three-month separation.

I finger the hem of my shirt. “We divorced,” I mutter. “I thought you weren’t going to want me back.”

His voice lowers to a pained whisper. “Why would you think that?”

I lick my dry, chapped lips again. “Couples who divorce usually don’t get remarried.” Of course, we’re not actually married. But he’ll understand the metaphor. He’s used it before when we were teenagers. We played house most of our lives. It’s kind of fucked up, but I guess that’s just us.

“I’m remarrying you, Lil. Fuck, I’d remarry you a hundred times until it stuck.”

I pinch my eyes again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Even if I make you miserable?”

There’s a long pause before he murmurs, “You don’t make me miserable. You make me want to live. And I want to live with you.”

My throat closes for words. I sniff and rub my nose and wipe the last of my tears.

“Okay?” he breathes. “So about tonight, you need to tell me what happened.”

I nod to myself. Right. “These past couple of months, I’ve just been masturbating a ton. And this boat trip was supposed to be better than last time. I wasn’t supposed to turn into this compulsive monster.” I fucked up. But telling him this is easier than I thought it would be. Probably because we were always best friends before we ever became a real and true couple.

“Compulsive how?”

“I couldn’t stop. I was using my vibrator and then Ryke bulldozed into my room because he was scared he was about to get raped by a sixteen-year-old girl.”

“Seriously?” he says in disbelief. I’m not sure what he’s referring to, and so my nerves jostle.

“What? Which part?” I scratch my arm.

“The part where Ryke is scared of a high school girl. What a pussy,” he says with a laugh.

I relax. “That’s mean to say about your brother.”

“Half-brother,” Lo snaps back. Okaaay. Obviously there’s some issue going on that I’m not aware of.

“I thought you guys were cool.”

“Oh yeah,” Lo says sarcastically, “I just love being the bastard.”

I guess before Ryke showed up, Lo thought he was a child caught in a nasty divorce between his parents. Come to find out, he was the cause of their separation: a product of infidelity.

He sighs heavily. “Look, I can forgive him for lying to me because he’s been supportive of my recovery, and besides you, he’s the only person who knows what it’s like to be around my father. But he can be so fucking abrasive.”