AOIFE
Are you going to speak to me?
Nope.
Come on, Molloy. Don’t be cranky.
Shut up and watch the movie.
I’m not talking. I’m texting.
Yeah, well, I can hear your stupid voice in my head.
Witch.
Asshole.
I’m not staying over if you’re not going to talk to me.
Ha! Try and leave. I dare you.
Fine, but I’m not snuggling you.
Good. I don’t want you to snuggle me. You stink of weed.
Pity it’s not mellowing you out.
Shh. I’m trying to watch the film!!!
Fine.
Stop playing Snake on your phone.
Stop being a bitch.
I will, as soon as you stop being an asshole!
“FOR FUCK’S SAKE.” Tossing his phone down on the mattress between us, Joey folded his arms across his chest and glared at my bedroom ceiling. “This cold shoulder crap is bullshit.”
No, it wasn’t bullshit.
It was a direct consequence of his bullshit.
With only the screen of my portable television lighting the room, I watched from the corner of my eye as Joey huffed and puffed like a frustrated bull.
My boyfriend was being an asshole, and I had every intention of letting him know it.
Surprisingly, my silence was irking him a hell of a lot more than my words had.
“Molloy.” Shirtless, he sat straight up on my bed and ran a hand through his hair. “Come on. I haven’t done anything wrong today.”
“The fact that you have to add the word today to the statement ‘I haven’t done anything wrong’ speaks volumes, Joe.”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“I know you did.”
“Then what do you want from me?”
“I want you healthy.”
“I am healthy,” he growled, flopping back down on the mattress. “Fuck.”
I knew that he was teetering on the edge of trouble again, and I refused to let him topple over that cliff twice.
The fact that he couldn’t remember a word of the conversation we had yesterday when I spilled my damn guts to him was horrible.
I couldn’t explain how difficult it was for me to get those words out, and he just didn’t hear me.
Knowing that I was carrying his unborn child, while he was dallying with his health was even more terrifying.
“I’m not doing this again, Joe,” I told him. “I’m not letting you do this again.”
“Letting me,” he spat the words like they were offensive. “You don’t get to let me do shit, Aoif. I do my own thing.”
“Uh-huh, sure thing, asshole,” I mocked, increasing the volume on the television remote. “I flushed your stash, by the way.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “I don’t have a stash.”
“You don’t?” I narrowed my eyes right back at him. “Then whose prescription pills were those in the front pocket of your school bag?”
“You searched my bag?”
“Yep.” I smiled sweetly. “Sure did.”
“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered, rubbing his face with his hand. “Where’s the baggie, Molloy?”
“The baggie is in my rubbish bin. The contents of the baggie are on the way out to sea.”
“You didn’t seriously flush my pills?”
“I seriously did, stud.”
“Jesus Christ. Do you know how much those cost me?” Sitting straight up once again, my boyfriend dropped his head in his hands and bit back a roar. “Fuck, Aoif, I told you I have it under control.”
“And I told you that I’m not letting you do this again.”
“I’m fine.”
“And I’m making sure that you stay fine.”
“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled, twisting around to face me. “You do realize that no other lad would take this shit from his girlfriend.”
“What shit exactly?” Tossing the remote down, I sat straight up and faced him. “The part where I try to keep you alive?”
“I’m not dying.”
“You could die—’ My voice cracked, and I sucked in a sharp breath, desperately trying to school my features, as I met his stare head on. “I love you.”
“I know.” Emotion flickered in his eyes, and he bowed his head. “I love you back.”
“No. You don’t get it. You are the love of my life,” I bit out, catching his chin and forcing him to look at me. “What I feel for you? How deeply I love you? It’s fucking insane, Joe. So, yeah, I’m going to do the right thing for you every time, whether that pisses you off or not, because I want you here with me. On planet earth. For a long time.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, snatching my hand up in his. “I’m never leaving you, Molloy.”
“See, I know you believe that,” I replied, tone thick with emotion. “But every time you snort a line or pop a pill, you’re playing Russian roulette with your life and my heart.”
