Broken Open Page 93

“I’ve never told this story to anyone.” He threw a hand over his eyes and she did move then, coming to face him, taking his hand and looking him dead-on.

“I don’t want you to hide your eyes. I’ll close my eyes if you want. If it would make it easier to say.”

“It shouldn’t be easy.”

But when he moved his arm, she’d closed her eyes. She took his hand, holding it in hers, not letting go. And he loved her and hated her. He needed her and she was there with his hands in hers and her eyes closed so he could finish his story.

She wrecked him right down to his foundations and he didn’t know if he could survive. Not with her and not without her, either.

“You don’t know what it’s like. To need something so bad your entire body just revolts until you get it. Being drug sick is the worst. Your whole body hurts. Your muscles cramp. You can’t keep anything down. So there I was in that dirty little hovel, subhuman, backed into a corner. I needed that heroin so much I could taste it. I thought about letting her do it just so she’d pass out and then I could make a run for it. But it was heroin-addict strength, you get me? And it was my mother with a dirty needle poised at her arm. She was going to do it. She was using everything she could to reach that part of me that remembered what it was not to be chained by addiction.”

“You didn’t make her do it, did you?”

“No I didn’t. She opened the door and the treatment people came in and whisked me off. But I considered it.” He could still feel it, that part of him that wanted to do it, no matter the cost. “What kind of person does that make me?

“You’re going to feel guilty about thoughts in that situation? Really? What’s your endgame then, Ezra? How do you get to the point where you can let yourself be loved by me and not panic that loving me back is as bad as being addicted to drugs?”

“I nearly lost who I was. It took years to live a normal life again. Yes, I’m afraid of falling back into that.”

“I’m not belittling your struggle or how far you’ve come. I admire you a great deal. You’re incredibly strong. You’ve rebuilt yourself. So you thought a bad thing five years ago. So you thought a bad thing five minutes ago. They’re thoughts. Some of them are bad if we’re talking serial killer–type thoughts. But we aren’t. And you’re not a cornered animal. You’re Ezra Michael Hurley. You’ve written twenty-two hit singles, twelve of them since you got out of rehab and stopped touring. Your family sees it, your fans see it, I see it. Why can’t you? What’s holding you back?”

So few people spoke to him that honestly. That she would do it, that she paid enough attention and cared deeply...

“You said you loved me.”

“Yeah, I did. Three times I think. I’m pretending it’s no big that you haven’t responded in any way.”

He straightened, reeling once again. And once again she was the source. “You can’t love me.”

She nodded. “I totally can so love you. You’re not the boss of me just because I let you hold me down while you fuck me. That night we came back to my house and Paddy and Nat were there? I figured it out during a whispered conversation with Natalie in my room while you were down with Paddy. I’m scared, but I’m at the point where I’m more scared to walk away than to stay. You better love me back, Ezra, because I am a fantastic catch. I will not tolerate your bullshit. But I respect your space and I’m supercute.”

“What if I’m replacing one addiction with another?”

“I can’t say. You have to decide. I’m obviously not a physical addiction. I’m not going to mess with your internal organs. I’m way easier on your bank account. I make your cock hard instead of, um, not. So you crave me. So you want to be with me. I want to be with you. You’re supposed to want to be with people you like. You’re definitely supposed to want to be around people you love. What’s bad there? Tell me the horrible outcome of you craving what I’ve got right here?” She cupped her pussy and he had to cough to clear his throat. She pointed to her head. “Or here?” And her heart. “Or here?”

“We’re both broken in multiple ways. And yet we found one another. My broken pieces fit with yours. I want you to crave me. I crave you. I want you with me. I want to fall asleep listening to the sound of your breathing. It’s okay to be a little broken. I’ll help you hold your pieces together. When you get tired and you just don’t know if you can do it, I’ll be right there.”

“I’m freaked the hell out. I can’t do this until I have it straight.”

She looked so very, very sad. “All right.” She went to the closet and came away with her dress on a hanger. She came back from the bathroom with her toiletries kit and he moved quickly to stop her.

“Wait. You’re leaving? I’m not breaking up with you. Are you breaking up with me?”

“You need to figure stuff out first, Ezra. I can’t be something you relegate to a resentful addiction. Something you are powerless against. I’m not heroin. I’m not a bad thing at all and I can’t be with anyone who thinks that.”

She finished packing her things.

“Don’t leave.”

She turned, cupping his cheek.

“Yeah?”

He wanted to say the words she needed. But he knew she’d see right through anything but the truth and he didn’t have the words she needed. Not right then.

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