talk to you about somethin’.”
I headed into the living room, and there I found her, sitting in front of the coffee table. Her head was thrown back against the couch, with that telltale smile on her face. My eyes were drawn to the mirror, sprinkled with white powder, with that stupid gift card beside it.
“You are … the most beautiful husband, you know that?” she said, opening her eyes to reveal two rich black holes where her bright blue irises once were.
“Fuckin’ hell, Andy,” I muttered in reply, feeling all at once jealous and defeated. I dropped to my knees across from her and, on autopilot, began to set up a few lines. Then, before I bent over to pull them into my system and chase her into nirvana, I shook my head and repeated, “Fuckin’ hell.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
VINNIE
I watched her slip the dress on, jealous of its flimsy fabric, clinging to her curves. She caught my eyes in the mirror and grinned before swiping on a coat of lip gloss.
“Stop, you're making me self-conscious,” she giggled.
“What?” I laughed, kicking one ankle over the other and folding my arms behind my head. “I'm not allowed to watch my wife get dressed?”
Andy shook her head, grabbing her hairbrush from off the dresser. “Nope. You're allowed to watch me get naked, not when I'm putting on clothes and makeup.”
“Why not?” I asked, my mouth twitching into a lopsided smile.
She shrugged, dropping her gaze, and I thought, there she is, that shy girl who always knew exactly what she wanted.
I missed her.
“I was never good with fashion and stuff,” she told me, pulling the brush through her long, blonde hair. “Before our first date, my sisters actually helped me get dressed.”
I smiled, remembering fondly. “The sparkly purple shirt.”
She sniffed a soft laugh. “Yes. That was actually Mer's.”
“Still my favorite color,” I commented gently, hoping that maybe we could go back there someday, to the people we once were.
She flashed a smile over her shoulder before tying her hair back into a messy bun. Having the long, blanketing lengths up off her shoulders, I could see the sharp definition of her shoulder and collar bones. Looking at her now, I saw her as a skeleton, frail and sickly. I'd been debating with myself for days now, since that chat with Jenna, and now I knew for sure; I needed to get that shit away from our lives before it killed us. Mustering the willpower to do so though, was another issue entirely.
“Anyway,” she went on, coming to sit beside me on the bed, “I just feel a little self-conscious about it, that's all. I don't have great taste in clothes.”
Furrowing my brows, I let my eyes sweep over her and the lavender sundress. It was simple, sure, but there was nothing wrong with that. I wrapped my hand around her thin arm and pulled her toward me.
“Well, I think you're perfect,” I said, my breath tickling her lips before I gently kissed her.
“That's just because we're perfect together. I'm not perfect alone,” she argued, pressing her hands flat against my chest.
I smiled, making an effort to keep my mouth shut. We had been, at one point, perfect together, and I believed we could get there again with time and effort. But I couldn't consider this, what we were doing now, to be anything other than toxic.
Andy stood from the bed and slipped her feet into a pair of white heels. I whistled at the sight of her long, lean legs, accentuated by the extra height, and she blushed.
“You really think I look okay?”
I nodded. “Sweetheart, if you weren't running out the door, I'd be pulling you onto my dick right now.”
She laughed and, on her way out of the room, said, “I hope you take rainchecks.”
***
Andy had gone out to spend the evening with Elle. She hadn't wanted to, but for the sake of keeping those close to her from getting suspicious, she went. It was only for dinner and drinks, she'd said, which was fine, and I had encouraged it. She needed to get the hell out of that apartment, away from bad habits, and so did I.
I took the opportunity to see Goose, as I hadn't gone to his bar since before I'd succumbed to my demons. I found that I missed him and apparently, he'd missed me, too.
“Well, holy shit,” he shouted over the jukebox. “Vinnie! How've you been, man?”
“Well,” I sauntered over to the bar and flashed him my left hand,