“Don’t you think you would’ve heard from him if he knew?” She sighs.
She has a point.
I haven’t heard from Noah in more than twelve months, but something like this would have him flying over here to confront me. He’d think this thing with Bella was all about him, when it couldn’t have less to do with him.
“I know how strained your relation
ship is with your brother. I wouldn't tell him. I wouldn't do that to you. Are you okay? Please don't do anything stupid, Cade.”
“I'm fine,” I mutter. By stupid, she means gamble. I’m sure of it.
I leave the hotel, not sure where I’m going. It’s so late that not much is open. My choices are limited to a scary-looking sex shop, a couple of bars, and a twenty-four hour medical clinic. I choose one of the bars.
I walk inside and signal to the barman. He yells out, asking what I want in broken English. I point to a bottle of expensive whiskey, then find myself a secluded table near the back. It’s by no means busy, but I don’t want to risk anyone trying to start a conversation with me.
The barman places my drink in front of me. I down it, and ask for another two. He raises his eyebrows, but walks off to get them. I pull out my phone and bring up the message. Apparently I’m into self-harm now, because for the next half hour I torture myself, rereading her text over and over until I’m on the verge of breaking.
The worst thing is that I have no idea where my anger is directed.
I’m done. I close my messages and sigh, tossing the phone down on the table in front of me. I pick it up again and open my betting account app. Why haven’t I deleted it? Why do I leave it here, testing myself with the temptation—especially at times like this when I can feel myself cracking? It would be so easy to undo everything right now. I’ve gone so long without placing a bet, but I could convince myself in an instant that one time isn’t going to hurt. I know, because I’m doing it now.
The words of a true addict. One touch of my finger and I could distract myself from everything, even if it’s only for a short time. The ache intensifies, and I just want the pain to go away. My finger hovers over the screen, my heart pounding so loud I can feel it in my ears. One click.
That’s all it takes to undo everything.
**
It’s after five when I stumble back to the hotel. I’m drunk, but more than that, I’m down two hundred dollars and I hate myself for it. It’s not the money—I don’t even care about that—it’s the fact that I promised not only myself, but my mother. I can only imagine what Erin would say.
It was a huge thing, me telling her about my gambling problem, and I did it because for the first time in a long time I was proud of myself for being strong enough to resist.
I’m a fucking lost cause.
I stalk up to my room, but then remember Erin is sleeping in my bed. She can’t see me like this. She deserves better. In my drunken, self-absorbed state, all I can think about is how much of a disappointment I am. She deserves better than me. It’s hard to believe that I was the best choice out of thousands of applications. She couldn’t find one that was able to put her needs first? I should do her a favour and just leave.
I rifle through my wallet for her spare room key and let myself into her room. Walking over to her bed, I collapse in a heap, my head spinning from way too much alcohol and lack of sleep. All I want to do is close my eyes and forget about tonight.
Maybe if I’m lucky, I won’t wake up.
Chapter Sixteen
Erin
I roll over, wrapping myself up in the blankets, expecting to feel the warmth of his body next to me. Instead, I’m jolted awake by the icy-cold sheets where he should be. I sit up and reach over, turning on the lamp.
“Cade?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
No answer. I reach for my phone to check the time. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust and see that it’s after nine, Sunday morning. I’m shocked that I slept so long, but I must have needed it. I lie back against my pillow and sigh. The last thing I remember is falling asleep in his arms around ten last night. I’m trying to work out what it is I’m feeling, but there is so much going on in my head, it’s hard to identify what’s real. I like him a lot. That much I know. Am I falling in love with him? Maybe.
No, I can’t be in love with Cade. That’s not fair on him. I should’ve been stronger and not given in. I never should have kissed him, or let things progress as far as they did last night. Is that why he left? Maybe he’s embarrassed over what happened and can’t face me to tell me the truth. I cringe, thinking about it.
I lie in bed for as long as I can, until the guilt of wasting my last morning here is too much. This trip is everything I hoped it would be, but at the same time, it crushes me because I know what’s coming. I try so hard to be strong, but God, this is killing me. Literally.
The good days are getting fewer and farther between. My head constantly aches, I feel sick, and I can’t eat much at all. If I was at home I’d be curled up in my bed, or worse, in hospital, hoping for a miracle or death—whichever came first. But I’m not at home. I’m living my dream and I’ll be dammed if I don’t make the most of it, regardless of what my body is telling me.
I’m not sure Cade has any idea how sick I actually am. I hide it from him is much as I can. I see the concerned looks he gives me, and I laugh off any suggestion he has that maybe I should take it easier, rest for a day here and there. But I’m not here to take it easy. I’m here to push myself. I’m here to live.
And I’m also here to die.