His gaze continues to unnerve me, my heart pounding in my chest, waiting for him to speak.
“As soon as I could get away from what I was doing, I came. Hope that’s okay?” His eyes bore into mine. It unnerves me.
“Yeah, of course.” I bite down on my lower lip. “Thank you for coming.”
“Of course, Bailey. I told you, if you needed me, I’d be here.”
“I know. I just—”
He raises his hand to stop me from speaking. “You didn’t think after what went down, I would still come? Of course, I would, Bailey. I love you.”
His admission knocks the wind out of my lungs. Breathing becomes more difficult as I try to think of a response.
“I know things happened. I know you don’t know what to believe. I get it. I know it’s no secret I slept around, and even that I once fooled around with Monica. I wasn’t looking for anything before I met you, and I haven’t been with anyone since we’ve been together. What you saw was Monica throwing herself on me. I know your sister told you this, but I wanted you to hear it from me. I love you, Bailey, and I would never do that to you.”
“I know. I know that now.” A tear falls down my cheek. “Drew, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for not trusting you, for finding Reese . . .” Dampness continues to slide down my cheek, and I swipe away at it, drying my face. “I can’t remember why. I don’t remember anything . . . but, god, I’m so sorry for hurting you and making you relive . . .”
A fine line forms between his brows as he gathers his thoughts. His left hand runs through his hair, then he pulls his hand away and covers his eyes.
“Yes, Bailey, and that’s why, as much as I love you, I can’t do this anymore. I wanted to save you, but I will always fail if you can’t save yourself.”
My eyes blink rapidly as I think about what he just said. Sadness courses through my veins, killing any joy I had moments ago. What does this mean? Have I lost him forever? Will he ever want to try again? But no matter what I feel and how miserable these unknowns make me, I know he’s right. I might not remember taking the drugs, but I did.
Regardless if it was a drunken mistake, I made that mistake. Everything he says is right. If all it takes is a few shots to make me go backward, I need more help. I need to get the help I should have gotten a long time ago.
Rehab is the best place for me right now.
I inhale deeply, and after a series of breaths, I finally gather the strength to speak.
“I understand that now. I know I need to get better.” I look up and find him looking intently at me. “I’ll get better for you.”
“No, Bailey. Get better for you. If you do this for me, you’re only setting yourself up for failure. Setting yourself up to relapse again. Only for you, okay?”
“Okay, Drew. You’re right. I’ll get healthy for me. But then what? If-when I get better?”
“I don’t know, Bae. I really don’t know.”
The uncertainty in his voice is my undoing, and I burst into sobs. He crosses the room quickly and takes me in his arms.
“Shh. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”
I want to plead with him not to let me go. To stay with me. That I love him, but I hold it all in. Drew has already done so much for me. I can’t burden him with any more. I have to leave and heal myself, and this is the moment when I’ll start. This is the moment I will change my life.
His hand reaches under my eyes and collects the wetness gathering with his fingertips. My gaze focuses on the ceiling, willing the tears to stop falling. When I know no more will fall, I cast my eyes back to his. His gaze is hollow and raw. This is not the same man I met that first day at the club. I need to be strong for him.
No.
I need to be strong for me.
After a few minutes of Drew holding me, I feel him place a gentle kiss on the top of my head and pull away.
“I have to go, Bae. You can do this. I know you’re strong enough.”
“Bye, Drew,” I whisper. My mouth is dry from the emotions choking me.
“Goodbye, Bailey.”
I watch as he gets up.
I watch as he walks toward the door and walks out of my life.
49
Drew
Broken.
I feel completely, utterly, fucking broken. Saying goodbye, whether it be for the short term or the long haul, was the hardest thing I’ve had to do in a long time.