Take the Chance (Top Shelf Romance #9) - Brittainy Cherry Page 0,99

half after that, I OD’d at a New Year’s Eve party. Rock bottom.

I hadn’t danced in all that time—it felt wrong to allow myself to do something I loved when I’d been polluting my body and mind. But Roy Goodwin—the best parole officer in the world—had helped me take the steps necessary to shorten my parole. I’d have mandatory NA meetings for another year, but otherwise a clean slate. And I was nearly finished getting an esthetician’s license and massage therapist certificate.

And today, I danced.

Things were getting better. I was getting my shit together. And Kyle…I could fix things with Kyle. We were going through a rough patch, that’s all. A rough patch that had been going on for two months.

My hopes deflated with a sigh. Just this morning, it took three tries to get him to answer to his name. Lately, his smiles were full of apologies, and he had a detached fade in his eyes. I’d seen it before. There’d be no big drama. No epic fight. Just a disappearing act. Maybe with a note or a text.

Despite the heat, I shivered and walked faster, as if I could outrun my thoughts. I wondered—for the millionth time—if I were trying to hold on to Kyle because I cared about him, or because I couldn’t stand the thought of letting another relationship slip through my fingers.

“It’s not over. Not yet,” I said as my combat boots clomped down our block.

This time I wasn’t going to fail. Not again. This time I could do something right. I’d been clean for more than a year, and with Kyle for longer than that. My longest relationship. I wasn’t a fuck up. Not anymore. I’d hold on tighter, if that’s what it took.

On the third floor of the shabby walk-up, I opened the door on 3C, and stepped inside…and nearly tripped on the duffel bag. Kyle’s duffel bag. It was stuffed so full, the zipper looked ready to burst. I shut the door behind me and looked up, squinting, as if I could minimize the pain of what I was seeing.

Kyle was at the small kitchen counter writing a note. He set down the pen when he saw me. Slowly.

A note, not a text.

“Hey, babe,” he said, hardly looking at me. “I’m sorry, but I....”

“Don’t,” I said. “Just don’t.” I hugged myself at the elbows. “You weren’t even going to tell me?”

“I…I didn’t want a scene.” He sighed and ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair. “I’m sorry, Darlene. I really am. But I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do what?” I shook my head. “No, never mind. I don’t want to hear it. Not again.”

Again, I’m not enough. Not good enough. Not funny or pretty or something enough.

“Didn’t hold on tight enough.” I murmured.

“Darlene, I do care about you, but…”

“You’re sorry, but. You care about me, but.” I shook my head, tears choking my throat. “Go if you’re going to go, but don’t say anything else. You’re just making it worse.”

He sighed and looked at me imploringly. “Come on, Dar. I know I’m not alone in this. You feel it too. There’s just…nothing left in the tank, right? The engine’s grinding and grinding, and we’re hoping something will catch and spark back up again. But we both know it’s not going to happen.” He sighed and shook his head. “It’s not you. It’s not me. It’s us.”

I opened my mouth to speak. To deny. To scream and curse and rage.

I said, “Yeah, I guess.”

Kyle sighed again, but this time with relief. He came to me and I hugged him tight; tried to absorb the feeling of his arms around me one more time. I inhaled him, to hold on. Then exhaled, and he slipped away.

He moved to the door and I stepped back toward our tiny kitchen.

Kyle hefted his bag onto his shoulders. “See you around, Dar.”

I kept my eyes averted and then squeezed them shut at the sound of the door closing. The click was as loud as a slap.

“See you around,” I murmured.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Zelda asked. The screech of an incoming bus lurching into the depot nearly drowned her words, and a light summer shower sprinkled diamonds in my friend’s long, dark hair.

Beckett, her fiancé and my best friend, towered over her. Instinctively, he leaned in slightly, to shield her from the elements. I don’t even think he realized he was doing it. A frown pulled his mouth down. Worry made his blue eyes