Page 86 of On Your Knees

We dress and go down to the kitchen.

Patrick prepped a lot of ingredients, so it’s easy to get some omelets going. We both eat toast while they’re cooking. I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning, and I have a bad feeling that Levi hasn’t either.

When I go to throw away the bread bag under the sink, I freeze, staring at the empty whiskey bottle beside the trashcan.

I look over at Levi, who’s munching toast as he watches the omelets.

“Was Patrick okay yesterday?” I ask.

Levi does a double take as he sees what I’m looking at. “Oh. He had me pour that out.”

My heart skips. “Had he drunk any of it?”

“No. It was sealed.”

I sag in relief, but it’s brief and incomplete because he still bought it. He got close. Because of me.

God, I don’t want Patrick to relapse, especially not because of me.

“You called him last night?” I ask, not trusting my memory.

“I did. He seemed okay.”

“I’m just gonna text him.” But then I realize I have no idea where my phone is. “Ah, fuck.”

“Your phone’s in the entryway. If that’s what you’re trying to figure out.”

I huff, slightly embarrassed but also thinking how nice it is to interact with him like this, openly, like I don’t have to hide anything. “Thanks.”

I go out to the entryway and grab my phone. My heart sinks at the notifications. I open the messaging app and see that they’re almost all from Ruby. I scroll past those to Patrick and bring up our thread.

As I’m walking back to the kitchen, I type, Are you okay, then I delete it and type, Have you talked to your sponsor. I delete that too.

Then I type, I’m sorry. I send it.

I’m back in the kitchen now. Bubbles appear and disappear for long enough that I walk over to Levi just so I can touch him. I’m staring at my phone, but from the corner of my eye, I see Levi glance at me. He leans into my touch on his back.

Levi asks, “Is he okay?”

“He’s taking forever to reply.”

“He’s not answering?”

“He’s typing.”

Levi says quietly, “It’s hard for you guys to talk to each other.”

My throat tightens at that. It’s true, and it’s always been like that. I care about Patrick. I even… love him. But the things that are easy with Levi simply aren’t easy with Patrick.

When Patrick’s text finally comes through, I go to sit at the table and read, I’m glad you’re okay.

I type, Are you? but I delete it. He’ll just say he’s fine. I still want to ask him about his sponsor, but that always pisses him off. I type, Let me know if you need something, but he won’t, so I delete that too.

I put my phone down, frustrated, and scrub at my face.

Levi comes to stand at my shoulder. His fingers play with my hair.

I grumble, “I don’t know why it’s hard to talk to him.”