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I trailed my fingers through the water, the wound Caligo had made to remove the drugs from my system stinging slightly because of the bubble bath he’d added. “I shouldn’t have taken heroin. It was stupid, and I knew it, but like I said, I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“You were almost dead when I found you,” Caligo said. “Your heart rate had slowed to forty-one beats per minute, and your blood pressure was dropping by the second.”

“Yeah, I know how close I was.”

“Did you want to die?”

I couldn’t really blame him for asking. For that reason, I gave the question a great deal of thought rather than offering a stock answer. “No. I wanted the pain and grief to stop, but I still want to be here. It was just a stupid mistake.”

“No more drugs,” Caligo said.

I nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

He turned his head toward me, his stare intense. “No. I mean it. Anything you take, I will take straight back out of you, just like I did tonight, so taking it will be pointless.”

“Sure,” I agreed. “No drugs. Only alcohol from now on.”

“No alcohol either.”

Surprise rendered me speechless for a few seconds. “I don’t know if I can cope without either of them. I thought I could while I was in rehab, but things are always easier when you can’t get hold of something. Back in the real world…”

“You’ll cope.” There was a hardness to Caligo’s voice that had me sitting up and staring at him. “There won’t be a repeat of tonight. If I’d been a few minutes later in finding you, you would have died. I can’t bring you back from the dead. You’re mine, and you don’t get to do something stupid that takes you away from me.”

I searched within myself for some resentment at being told what to do, finding it strangely absent. Instead, I felt only relief that someone had taken away the option of escaping into oblivion. I slid back down in the bath. “Maybe I could paint instead,” I said. “I draw sometimes, but I haven’t painted for years. It could be art therapy. And I could take up yoga or Pilates, or even try meditation.” Perhaps more of the lessons imparted to me in rehab had sunk in than I’d previously thought. “I’ll get a therapist, too. Someone who can help me talk through my feelings about my mother.”

“They all sound like healthy coping mechanisms.”

I laughed. “You sound like Dr. Collins. Did you absorb some of his brain patterns when you spent time inside him?”

“Not that I’m aware of .”

“It was a joke.”

“I knew that.”

Caligo’s confusion had me smiling. It felt good to smile after the night I’d had. I leaned over the side of the bath and picked up my watch. “It’s four in the morning,” I said wearily. “The sun will be rising soon.”

“You should sleep,” Caligo said softly.

“I should,” I agreed. “Things always look better the next day. At least, that’s what they say.”

I slept for most of the next day, my body needing the respite after being so close to death. Caligo was there, but not there—present, yet considerate enough to give me space. Or perhaps he was still pissed at me, given the hard line he’d taken over my drug and alcohol use.

When I finally left my bed, I did little more than eat and order hundreds of pound’s worth of art materials for delivery the next day. Remy had messaged me, but it was little more than a quick check-in, so I didn’t bother replying. Tyler had also sent a message. I didn’t even open his. I couldn’t imagine him saying anything worth listening to.

I spent the following morning turning the spare room into an art studio. It was the room with the best light, so choosing it had been obvious. The most annoying part was how much of Tyler’s stuff I found in there. I dumped it all in a corner and vowed to deal with it later. I’d just gotten the room sorted when the delivery arrived, with Caligo remembering to stay away from the door while I dealt with it. It took another hour to arrange everything exactly as I wanted it.

“What will you paint?” Caligo asked from his vantage point near the door.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll see what wants to appear on the canvas.”

“Now?”

I shook my head. “No, not today. I’ve spent too long getting everything ready.” I glanced at the pile of Tyler’s belongings. It was mostly boxes, but there were some books and clothes as well. “I should sort that lot out. Or just burn it.”

The doorbell rang, and I smiled. “Saved by the bell. I guess the bonfire will have to wait until later.”

After checking that Caligo was nowhere in sight, I pulled the door open. Laura stood on the doorstep. She threw her arms wide and beamed at me. “Surprise!”