"How can you say that when you don't know?"
"I know you. That's what matters."
I stare back into his eyes. "You promise?" Please promise. Please mean it. Please make today okay.
If the past doesn't matter, then I can tell him when I'm ready to confront it. When I'm sure he won't go from seeing me as Iris the person to Iris the recovering addict.
Seeing myself through his eyes is everything.
I can't lose that.
I don't know how to see myself as more than a recovering addict.
But he does.
He brushes my hair behind my ear. "Of course."
"What if I used to drink all the time?"
"I did too."
I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. I need to feel him out. To see if it's possible he means it. "Or get high?"
"Ditto."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"But your sister—"
"Refuses to stop."
"Still."
"No still. I know the person you are now. That's what matters to me. If you need a shoulder to cry on, I'm here. If you want to talk, I'm here. But you don't have to tell me anything. Fuck knows there's plenty of shit I'd rather forget."
"You're sure about this?"
He nods. "Maybe you did awful shit. Maybe you killed someone. I don't care. I'll say it as many times as I have to, Iris. The past is the past. Whatever you did doesn't matter. I still like you."
"What if I killed one of your friends?"
"You've met all my friends. They're still alive."
"What if I go out and kill Dean?"
He chuckles. "I've wanted to plenty of times."
"But you'd be okay with that?"
"No, killing my best friend is a deal breaker."
"Damn. There go my plans for the weekend."
"No offense, Iris, but he'd crush you like that—" He snaps his fingers.
"In hand-to-hand fight, yeah, but not if I sneak up on him with a gun."