“I didn’t.” His tone deepens with frustration and anger. “Sometimes this road is easier. I know you don’t understand.”

“You’re right, I don’t. Help me understand, then. I’m trying.”

The clink of a bottle against glass sounds in the background, then the swirl of liquid over his lips and the gulp of his throat.

“It’s like living with a monster in your head, Piper. And it just fuckin’ owns you, consumes you, bleeds you, tortures you. It doesn’t let you sleep. It doesn’t let you be happy. It doesn’t let you trust. So you do what it says just to shut it the fuck up, to try to get just a tiny amount of peace, and then it starts all over again.”

Emotional grief for him spreads through me, twisting my stomach into knots and sending tears to my eyes. I wish I could go to him, somehow take this away for him. I wish I could overtake the monster inside him, and hide him away so it could never find him again.

“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I wish I could do something to help you.”

Something slams on the other end of the phone. “You can’t. And the more you try, the worse it’ll fucking be. I warned you, Piper. I told you we’d destroy each other. You’ll kill yourself trying to save me and I’ll kill myself trying to make it right and in the end the monster will kill us both. Don’t you see? We can’t win this.”

“Evan, don’t get mad. You can win. You were winning. I just think you need to find the right help—”

“Evan again. Always dragging him back in.” More banging sounds come over the line, and his words are starting to slur.

“It is your name. And I like it.”

“You like it because it’s not me.”

“That’s not true. It is you. I think it reminds you of who you were before you got like this.”

He scoffs. “Don’t try to play shrink, Ladybug. That’s really not a place you want to put yourself.”

His rollercoaster mood and tone is giving me whiplash, so I decide to quit while I’m ahead rather than agitate him any further. The last thing I want is to make him get higher or drunker tonight.

“Blue,” I begin softly. “I don’t want to fight with you. I called you to thank you. That’s all.”

And because I miss you. And I wanted to hear your voice. And for once, I wanted to be in control.

“I don’t want to fight either. I’m so fucking tired of fighting everything. It’s beating me down.”

“I know, and I don’t want you to feel that way. Please try to get help. I’m so worried about you.”

“Come see me, then.”

“What?”

“Come out here and stay with me until I leave. We can talk.”

“We’re talking right now,” I point out, thrown by his suggestion in more ways than one.

“We are. But I can’t stop thinking about how delicious you taste.”

“Blue….”

“What? I want more of you. When I’m lost in you, everything else goes away.”

“I’m not entirely sure that’s a healthy situation for either one of us.”

“Everything we want is bad for us in some way, Piper. Come see me.”

My heart leaps to say yes and wants me to run straight to my closet and grab all the cute clothes and hop on a plane to re-capture the night we shared a few weeks ago—before the shit hit the fan. But my brain is screaming no, no, no. He’s still on drugs. He’s messed up right now on the phone as we speak. Tomorrow he might not even remember asking me to come see him, or he could disappear before my plane lands and I’ll be stranded in Seattle.

“I wish I could do that, but I can’t. Like I told you, I can’t just take off work last minute. And even if I could… I have Lyric to think about and you’re still messed up.” I try to word it as gently as possible. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to see each other when you’re using.”

“Could you maybe get someone to watch her? And you come see me? Then you could only miss one day of work. Like fly out here Friday, spend Saturday with me and go back on Sunday when I leave.”

He’s right, I totally could do that. But I’m disappointed he immediately wants me to leave Lyric home. Even though I’m not ready for them to meet yet, it hurts that he hasn’t asked about her at all during this conversation. I had hoped he would be curious about her, maybe ask me to send him a picture. Something. I’m grateful he sent money for her, but that may be all he’ll ever do, and I have to accept that. I refuse to push Lyric on a father who doesn’t want her and risk her getting hurt. She deserves better than that.