“Jesus.”

“But I had to go back. By then he was dangerous to himself. He used to turn the oven on and leave it. He drank hot water once, not even stopping himself until he’d swallowed a good mouthful. He went a whole month forgetting to use soap to wash himself, or shampoo for his hair. He was using my facial cleanser.”

“What was the breaking point?” Reese asked.

I almost laughed. “It should’ve been when he beat the shit out of me, right? It wasn’t. No.”

I’d come down the stairs one night and there was a blizzard going on outside. Windchill was -25 degrees.

“He left the door open one time. I shut it, not thinking about it, and went back to bed.”

I shuddered, the memory haunting me.

“I bolted upright thirty minutes later. I knew—he hadn’t just left the door open. When he went outside, he never closed the door, but he rarely went outside anymore. The door wasn’t closed…because he was out there.”

Reese drew in a harsh breath. “What happened?”

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“DAMIAN!” I could hear myself, the wind. I could feel the biting cold.

“They found him two blocks from the house.”

I couldn’t feel my mouth.

I couldn’t feel my hands.

I couldn’t feel my legs.

“He almost froze to death, and it was my fault.”

“No—” Reese began.

“It was!” I bit out. “It was. I was the caregiver. Me. Not him. I should’ve taken control long before then. He told me over and over again that I had to take him how he was or it was over with us. He threatened me every goddamn time I tried to say something, but I should’ve done it anyway. I should’ve called his bluff. I should’ve broken up with him if he wouldn’t listen to me. I should’ve called his mother as soon as the first symptoms started, but I didn’t. I didn’t because I didn’t want to lose him, but I lost him anyway. He was already gone. That first time he forgot my name? He looked terrified, but it wasn’t because he couldn’t remember me. It was because he thought a stranger had broken into his house. He was terrified of me. That’s the day I lost him; I just never wanted to accept it.” I shoved up from my chair.

I got two feet before Reese caught me. His hand took mine, and he folded me into him. “Charlie. Charlie,” he whispered, wiping my face.

Tears. Of course. When were they not there?

“Jesus, Charlie. I’m so sorry.” He hugged me as I stood frozen.

There.

I heard the click. It had happened once before. And it just happened again.

I felt everything shutting down, turning off.

I closed up.

Nothing could hurt me.

I was a stone-cold statue, whether I wanted to be or not.

I sat on my bed.

Reese’s phone was going off, and he’d been on it for the last hour, almost since the moment I went robot-style. I caught a few names, but he was trying to keep his voice muffled. I knew he was talking to Juan at one point, then his coach. Who knew who else. People had started calling him. Otherwise I would’ve been worried he was trying to plan a feelings intervention for me.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll be there in the morning. Thanks, Coach.”

The front door opened.

Grant and Sophia were back.

They came in laughing just as Reese went back down the hallway. I could see them from my room.

“Hey!” Grant burped. “Sorry, man. We had to Uber here.”

Sophia bumped into him, trying to take her shoes off. “Too much wine. So much wine.”

Grant caught her, steadying her, and then she helped balance him while he took his shoes off. They were a good team. Perfect for each other.

I could feel Reese looking at me. I could feel his concern. It was in the air. I could almost smell it. And me, nothing. Just nothing.

I was back to that shell I’d always been.

This was a mistake. All of it—opening up. Letting Trent come over in the first place. Going to camp. Being with Reese. I sucked in a shuddering breath…falling for Reese. All of it was a mistake. If it happened again? If Reese ever looked at me and told me he didn’t want me? If his mind started to go? What was I doing?

He was a pro basketball player.

He wouldn’t want to be with me. Not for long.

We were friends. Fuck friends. Screw friends.

It didn’t mean anything.

His going bare? That meant nothing. That was just for heightened pleasure. That’s all. Nothing else.

“How was your night?” Grant asked. “Should I even ask?” He slapped Reese on the shoulder.

Reese was turned toward me. His hand ran through his hair. “Charlie.”

“No.” That word wrenched itself from me. Just no. No to anything more. I couldn’t take any more of anything. “No.”

“I think you should tell your friends.”

“No!”

Grant frowned. “What’s going on? Tell us what?”

“Charlie, she, uh…”

I was off the bed the next second and pushing Reese back. “It’s not for you to say anything.”

“You spilled all of that to me, and you’ve been in lockdown mode since. You don’t think I recognize the signs? My brother’s an alcoholic. That’s why he does all the shit he does. That’s why I enabled him for years, but don’t think I don’t get phone calls from him that break my heart. I do. And I get it—some of it. I get what you went through. But going locked-down right now? Not the answer. You can’t open up, then shut off right afterward. That’s not how you get better—”