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Loren Hale is an alcoholic beverage and he doesn’t even know it.
All six-foot-two of him fills the doorway.
Our indecencies became our rituals, and our families didn’t need to know about them.
“We’ll pretend,” he tells me. “Come on, love.” He taps my ass. “Into the car.”
And pretend that we’re two perfectly functioning, perfectly well-kept human beings. And we’re just not. We’re not.
“In this moment, I’m yours.”
The water washes away the smell and grime, but my sins are here to stay.
What does Loren Hale love? Whiskey, bourbon, rum.
Together, we discovered superheroes in a small comics shop in Philly.
At times, not even Cyclops or Emma Frost could fix our troubles, but they’re still there, reminding us of more innocent times. Ones where Lo wasn’t boozing and I wasn’t sleeping around. They allow us to revisit those warm, unadulterated moments, and I gladly return.
“Do you want me to unbutton them, love, or should I wait for you to get on your knees first?”
I don’t talk to Lo about feelings. About how it makes him feel to watch me bring home a different guy every night. And he doesn’t ask me how it feels to watch him drown into oblivion.
Rose frightens children, pets, and even grown males with her icy eyes and chilling glares.
needed him to fulfill a desire, one that does nothing but torment me.
His addiction scares me sometimes. Alcoholism can destroy livers and kidneys, and one day, he may not wake up from a night of bingeing. But how can I tell him to stop? How can I judge him when I am nowhere near ready to let go of my crutch? So for right now, this is the best I can do.
The deeper we sink, the harder it is to crawl out.
“Be cool, love. It’s just a little spill.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
I didn’t just have sex for fun or because it made me feel empowered. I liked the high, the rush, and how it seemed to fill an emptiness that kept growing inside of me.
“You,” I hear Lo’s voice. The server’s shoes clank on the floor, coming towards us. Oh my God?! What is Lo doing? “What would you like?” “Stop staring at my fucking girlfriend,” Lo says, topping it off with a bitter smile. “That’d be great, thanks.”
“But Lo and I…” I try to find the words. “We may not be good for each other, but sometimes I feel like he’s the only guy who could ever love me.” And that’s the truth. Because who would love this? A girl who sleeps around. A whore. A slut. Trash to be disposed. That’s what everyone sees.
“I’ll start shaking if I don’t find a way to satiate this. It’s like…it’s like there’s something wrong in my head, and the only way to be at ease is to do it. You understand…don’t you?”
“I’m not one of your conquests,” he says in a throaty voice. “I know what you want, and you don’t need to take it. I can give it to you.”
I am lost to his scotch-colored irises. To the way he stares into me. No one has ever looked at me like this.
“I’ve never pretended, Lil. We’ve been together, even if you thought it was some fucking lie.
“I want to love you more than I love this”—he waves his bottle—“and I don’t know how else to do it unless there’s something to lose.”
“We’re terrible at so many things—remembering important dates, college, making friends—but the one thing we’ve always been halfway decent at is being together. We owe it to ourselves to try.”
I like someone who can intellectually spar with me.”
Why can’t I have an addiction that people understand? It’s a vile thought—to wish for an addiction many die with.
“Loren Hale fucks better.”
Instead everything has trickled into the gutter. Lo drinks. I screw. And our schedules overlap and bypass too often, becoming more destructive than healthy.
No one told me you can love someone and still be miserable. How is that possible?
And yet, the thought of walking away from Loren Hale c...
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“Because, Lily Calloway, you seem like the type of girl who will never return my calls.”
“Are we in an alternate universe?” I nod. “Yep, we’ve definitely left Earth 616.” And I love it.
“I promise you, that my intentions are pure. And I think it’s sweet you’re looking out for Rose, but she’s more than capable of taking care of herself, which is one of the many reasons why I want to pursue her.”
“She’s a fashion designer,” Connor tells us. “She’s going to judge me on what I wear.”
“You’re addicted.”
“I love you, but I want to love you enough that I never choose alcohol over you. Not even for a moment. I want to be someone you deserve. Who helps you rather than enables you, and I can’t begin to do that until I get help for myself.”
“You will. You’re going to get through this, and I’m going to be there every step of the way.”
“I’ll always be yours. No distance or time apart will change that, Lily. You need to believe that.”
