“How are you feeling?” I ask, closing my laptop so he won’t see the screen if he comes closer.
His jaw is locked tight, nails biting into his palms at his sides. “I’m sorry I’m so weak,” he whispers, the sound hollow and broken.
“You’re not weak,” I tell him, meaning every word.
He hangs his head. “I’m wasting your time.”
“No. You’re not. This process takes time, Eli. It’s not a quick fix.”
His eyes are bloodshot when he looks at me. “You must hate me.”
I shake my head, pushing off the sofa to crouch in front of him, taking his trembling hands in mine. “I could never hate you.”
His lip wobbles. “Maybe you should leave.”
The words land like a physical blow. I flinch, falling back.
This isn’t Eli. This isn’t the man I know.
“I’m here,” I whisper. “I’m still here.”
“You shouldn’t be.” His tone turns cold. Unfeeling. “Leave me.”
It takes all my effort not to crumble—to break down crying—but I know this is his pain talking. This isn’t him.
“No,” I say, forcing steel into my voice.
“I don’t want your help, Emily.”
NotAngel. NotEm. Emily.
Anger thrums beneath my skin. I push to my feet until our faces are level, waiting for his eyes to meet mine. “Well, too bad. You have it.”
Then I leave the room.
I force my legs to keep moving until I reach the kitchen. The moment Carina’s pink hair comes into focus, I fold. My legs give out, and the tears fall.
49
You Have Me
Eli's Search History: How to stop hearing someone screaming in your head
Emily
IcheckonElibefore heading downstairs. We haven’t decorated the spare room yet, or even got a spare bed, so I’ve been sleeping on the sofa.
He’s sitting up with his head resting against the headboard, eyes closed. When he hears the floorboard creak beneath me, they snap open.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.
“You need to stop apologising.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t want you to leave me.”
“I know.”
“My mind’s just—”