Unwanted (The Unlucky Ones, #1)

by Marley Valentine

It was time to admit, for the first time ever, we were in two very different places. “You don’t love me,” I tell him coldly, keeping every sliver of emotion I have for him out of my voice. “You love the idea of me. You love how I don’t turn down the high, and how I don’t turn away from the rush. You love the way we fuck. You love the money we make off this shit, you love the power it gives you. And you love that even when you treat me like nothing more than the dirt on the bottom of your shoes, I come running back to you every fucking time.”

Even bruised and bleeding, I catch him when he falls.

the distance is the only way I could live a healthy life and still be a part of theirs. And even when they don’t understand, I have to remind myself that keeping the distance between us is what’s saved me.

There wasn’t a single thing in my life that I didn’t have a love-hate relationship with, my biggest accomplishments included.

I also knew from personal experience it didn’t matter how early or far you were into your recovery, that self-loathing and humiliation followed you around like a bad smell.

I haven’t made a life for myself, no matter what anybody else thinks or says. I’ve just managed to figure out how to exist. One day at a time. One foot in front of the other. One breath at a time.

Time promised to heal wounds, but when it came to Frankie, the more time that passed, the deeper the hurt ran. I may have learned to rise above rock bottom, but I was yet to rise above and forgive Frankie York. What was worse is, I was certain I hadn’t yet learned how to unlove him either.

He just continues to stare at me, his hazel-colored eyes full of longing. Full of yearning. Full of desire. For me. It hits me harder and cuts me deeper than any indifference and disappointment ever could. Because he’s looking at me the way he always has. Like time hasn’t passed. Like nothing has changed. Like he needs me. Like he loves me.

The sentence dies on my tongue when my eyes catch his. They’re soft. Confused. Definitely full of hurt, but they’re still soft. They’re soft for me. My insides warm at the sight, nostalgic for it. It was a rarity back then, and I sure as hell wasn’t expecting it now.

It’s a clusterfuck, but regardless of our history, being around him right now gives me comfort. He may be a different man, and I know there’s more than just a black cloud hanging over us, but he’s still familiar. He’s still safe. He’s still my home.

It’s always been an unspoken rule: you are who you are and you love who you love; you never need to explain that.

When you grow up in the foster care system, abandonment is almost always a trigger. Combine it with a lack of self-worth, the fear of never being enough, and the truth that maybe there really is no value in your existence—and you get a young boy whose first crush was alcohol, his first infatuation, cocaine, and his first love, heroin.

It’s hard to admit, but the quicker you realize perfection isn’t what you’re striving for, the easier recovery is to process.

In one way or another Arlo has been the center of my world for so long. He is safety. He is recklessness. After a childhood filled with disappointment, he was the one thing I could depend on.

Now, with every part of me touching him, I was certain it didn’t matter who it was or what gender they identified as, I would never be able to see anyone but him. After a life filled with neglect and broken promises, he was always there. He always would be. There would be nothing else. Nobody else. But him.

I’d be a fool not to notice how hard he’s worked on getting himself to this point. To have boundaries and to be able to communicate healthily. I need to respect that, no matter what my selfish needs are. Because this is what I wanted for him, isn’t it? To love and care about himself and life enough to want to actually live it. To know that he is strong enough to protect his sobriety.

His strength surpassed how much he could lift or how far he could run. His strength came from within. It was in his insistence to change and determination to stay sober. It was in the success of this building and in the camaraderie of his clients. It was in everything he had endured and achieved in the last four years. He was strength personified, and I couldn’t look away.

“No,” he finally answers. “I haven’t gone back.” A hand lands on my shoulder. “It’s not the same without you. A lot of things aren’t the same without you.”

“You’re not different,” he says. My own hands drop and find purchase on his hips as he slides his up my chest and neck, moving to cup my jaw. “You’re finally exactly who you were meant to be.”

“I know you won’t believe me when I say this, but you don’t need my validation. You never did.” Maybe not, but I needed you, and you left me.

“The only thing that has mattered to me in the last four years is that you were alive and healthy,” he blurts out.

He stops when he reaches my ear and whispers, “Leaving you broke my heart.”

My heart broke the day I broke his, and he needed to know that. If he listened to nothing else, he needed to know his pain was my pain. His hurt was my hurt. His heart was my heart.

“I don’t know if I can give this up a second time,” he says, his eyes brimming with heat and heartbreak.

I’d built a life for myself in Seattle. A great life. But what was the point of it without the people you love? The people who made your days brighter and your nights warmer.

“Feel for as long as you like or need. There is no expiration date on pain, there is only acceptance.”

“Are you jealous, Arlo?” he taunts. Slowly, I shift my attention back to Frankie, holding his stare. “Always,” I confess. “Always have been and always will be.”

didn’t matter if I took everything or nothing with me to Seattle. No place has ever or will ever feel like home without you.”

His gaze drops to our hands. “You said we’re taking this one day at a time,” he reminds me. “And I don’t want to blur those lines. I don’t want to impose on anybody’s space.” Dragging my hand out of his hold, I place my forefinger underneath his chin and tip his face up. “I don’t care about anybody else’s space. I just want you in mine.”

I don’t know what’s worse, knowing how much I hurt them when I left, or knowing how much they love me despite that.

“He’s come a long way, but I want you to know, his recovery is not dependent on you.”

“You can only be someone’s reason to relapse if you were their reason to use.”

“You’ve done that for every one of us. Time and time again you’ve broken your own heart to try and heal our heartache. It’s incredibly hard not to fall in love with someone who would sacrifice his whole world to save someone else’s.”

“I love your broken.” He rubs his thumb over my lips and kisses me gently. “I love your wronged.” He kisses me again, this time a little firmer. “And I love your selfish.”

“I love you, Arlo. Every part of you. The things you love about yourself and especially the things you hate. I love them all.”

“You taught me how to love,” he exclaims. “Before you, I didn’t know what it was like to be loved, let alone to love someone in return. I love you, Frankie York. I always have and I always will.”

“Did you really think I could walk away from you twice?” “Did you really think I was going to let you walk away twice?” “You would’ve come to Seattle?” “I’ve learned from my mistakes, Frankie. And I would follow you anywhere.”

“Everyday, I am worried that I will wake up one day and the person I love most in this world won’t wake up with me.”

“Like a coward, I told myself it was because I wanted you to get clean for you, but I left to protect myself. To protect my heart. Hoping and praying I never received a phone call telling me you were dead. Because there is no world I want to live in in which I have to exist without you.”

Circumstances meant individually we might never be whole, but we completed one another.

Swallowing down his emotions, he shakes his head at me. “Am I allowed to be this happy?” “I hope so.” Grabbing his hand, I drag him toward our bedroom. “Because I have grand plans to spend forever trying to make you even happier.”