The casual brush-off stings.

Before our fight, he would have asked me for help. He would have gushed about all of his ideas. I’ve been his friend in everything for years, and all of a sudden, I’ve become as useful as the dust on a windowsill.

“Shouldn’t you be taking your finals?” he asks.

“I’m on a break,” I say, sinking onto the bed.

He focuses on the computer screen.

Is he growing without me? My worst fear may be starting to come true. He’s strong, committed and sober. I’m unhealthy and struggling in my addiction. My weakness is too much for him. I’m pulling him down. I’m a weight.

And I’m losing him. Just like I lost everything else.

“Lo,” I try to keep my voice steady.

He faces me this time, concern etching his brow.

I open my mouth, a pain in my heart. “Do you want to break up with me?”

“What?” he chokes.

“It’s just…we’ve never fought for so long before, and I can’t tell what you’re thinking anymore.” My insecurities gush like a busted piñata, and I desperately wish to gather all the candy and stuff it back inside.

“Lil,” he breathes, standing. He comes to me and takes my cheeks in his hands, staring down. “Don’t ever ask me that again.” His voice is soft but still sharp.

“I wouldn’t blame you,” I say, twisting his T-shirt in my hand. “I mean, I would try to stop you, but I would understand. You’re strong and I’m...” a mess.

He brushes my fallen tears with his thumb. “I had rehab,” he reminds me. “I had lots of help, Lil. Your addiction is much different, and there’s less support there. I knew I’d be strong and you’d be struggling. It’s just the way it is. I’m prepared for this. I won’t leave. I won’t ever fucking leave.”

I’m about to go in for a hug, and he withdraws. “But that doesn’t give you the right to fall into your old habits. Okay?”

“I know. I know.” I fiddle with my fingers. “Are we still fighting? I mean, I get it if you still want to be in a fight. But I’m sorry. I’m really sorry I let you down.” That’s not completely right. I think after today, especially my conversation with Connor, I know who I’m disappointing the most. “I’m sorry I let myself down.”

His lips rise just a little. “I accept that apology.”

He lifts me into a hug, and I promise myself that I’ll try harder. Even if everything starts slipping away again, I’ll remember this moment, how long it took me to right what I had done wrong. I don’t want to start that vicious cycle again. I want to break it. I want to beat my addiction for good, no matter if outside forces pull me down.

I can do it this time.

Please, let me succeed.

I wish I could give Lily the clear steps to her recovery, the tips in rehab, all the people sharing their stories for hours on end—everything that I had, the things I sometimes take for granted. But recovery for sex addiction is just so subjective and personal. It’ll never be the same. All I can do is try to be here for her as best I can, especially after the leak.

I trashed all of her toys, even the vibrator that Ryke found in the bathtub. She’s nervous without them, but they’re a security blanket that I’m no longer willing to let her have.

Lily groans and collapses on the bed, her hands on her belly. “I’m stuffed.”

I smile. I called in three different orders of pasta and pizza from a local Italian place and practically force fed her garlic bread. We celebrated the end of the semester. She turned her finals in this evening with only minutes to spare. She informed me what happened with Sebastian and Connor, and I’m proud of her for making the right decision.

“Too stuffed to have sex?” I ask. I lift my shirt over my head and toss it aside.

She props her body on her elbows, her eyes wide. “You-you want to have sex with me?” She asks like she’s suddenly contagious. This is not the reaction I expected. I thought she’d fling her arms around me and go in for attack, trying to touch my dick before I could.

But she remains on the bed, her legs curled up underneath her. She’s already changed into her pajama shirt—which is my shirt—and I saw her slip on a pair of panties. She usually climbs into bed without them, thinking that the easy entry will entice me to fuck her. I know her games.

Tonight, I plan on having sex with her. For one, I’m horny and I’d really like to fuck my girlfriend. Second, I’ve finally accepted her apology. Third, she has to see her new psychiatrist tomorrow and I’m worried this guy is going to throw down some abstinence act on her.

I study her from head to toe and decide that I want to tease her a little. Giving in is just too easy. “You’re right, maybe we shouldn’t. You’ve been bad.” Now in my boxer-briefs, I climb onto the bed where she lies unmoving.

“Bad good or bad bad?” she asks.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I say with a smile. I reach towards the nightstand and pause. This would be the moment where I’d grab my whiskey. But in this moment, I only want one thing. And it’s not booze.

I open the drawer and fumble around for a condom. As soon as Lily sees the small package, she crawls over to me and holds out both hands like she’s trying to catch rain. It’s beyond adorable.

“I was bad good then,” she tells me.

“You were bad bad,” I refute, not giving her the condom just yet. “What did you learn this week?”

She drops her hands. “Self-love is not for me…even in bubbles. People at Princeton hate Yale and my boyfriend is really sexy when he defends my honor.”

“People at Princeton hate Yale?” I ask, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, I didn’t get it either.”

My eyes catch her ring. In the bathtub, I knew she was lying about wanting to see if the diamond could be dyed pink, but I wonder if she really does dislike it. I’ve only seen her stare at it with disdain.

“You know,” I say, taking her left hand and rubbing my thumb over the diamond. She stiffens a little. “If you hate it, I can always get you a new one. This proposal may have been bullshit but the engagement is real.”

She retracts her hand and shakes her head. “No, it’s fine. Girls would die for a ring like this.”

“Just because other girls would like that ring doesn’t mean you have to.”

“It may not be my dream ring,” she admits, “but I want to keep it.” She points to my other hand, the one with the condom. “Let’s get back to what’s important here.”

 I don’t give the package to her. Instead, I press my lips to hers, cupping the back of her head to bring her closer to me. She reciprocates instantly and swoops her arms around my neck. My mouth melds with Lily’s, our tongues brush and I suck on her bottom lip. She deepens the kiss, her hands running up and gripping my hair. She kisses hungrily, like it’s her fucking life-force.

I have to break apart just to get air.

Her mouth trails my neck, and her hand moves over my boxer-briefs, rubbing my cock. It feels too good to demand her to stop. My hands slide underneath her baggy shirt and find her breasts, grabbing and kneading them until I feel her gasp against my neck.

Her movements start to intensify and she tugs at my boxer-briefs, my cock springing out. Dammit. Swiftly, I gather her hands in mine and pull her away from my dick. It takes all my control not to let her pleasure me right away.

She stays on her knees, but they have parted considerably and I steal a glance down at the spot between her legs. I can already see the wetness seeping through her cotton panties. When I look back up, her eyes haven’t moved from mine.

“Can you teach me how to be the good kind of bad?”

Christ. I want inside of you.

“It’s not easy,” I tell her.

“Please.”

She’s never given over her control during sex. Not like this. And I think it’s the perfect time to do something she’s been waiting for.