There is a NSFW shot in this chapter. Please be careful! 😉

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“I understand. But are you sure there isn’t any — Uh-huh. Yes. Okay. But… But isn’t there — Okay. Yeah. You too. Well, thank you for your time.”

Erik threw the phone on the couch beside him. He didn’t even bother hanging up.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

He balled his hands into fists, pressing them harder and harder against his temples. I’m such a fucking loser! His head had begun throbbing with pain and his eyes were starting to sting slightly with tears.

Was it because of how heartbroken he felt? Or because his body craved more heroin?

It didn’t really matter what the reason was. Either way, Erik knew there was only one way to make the pain stop.

He rose to his feet instantly, making a beeline for the kitchen. I’m such a fucking failure. I let her down again! Erik continued cursing himself as he fumbled around the drawers for a spoon.

Harper’s birthday was less than three weeks away. All he’d wanted was to have a job lined up before then. What better gift than to finally have a job again? To finally prove that he wasn’t the total fuck-up his mother thought he was…

Mama. Erik’s heart sank at the thought of his mother. He hadn’t even spoken to her since Kaleb’s birthday party. He was just too ashamed to face her again. And thankfully, she seemed to be feeling the same way. Erik wasn’t sure if he could handle being in the same room as his mother again. It wasn’t hard to imagine how that conversation would go…

And conversations with his brother hadn’t been going much better. While his mother had been avoiding him, it felt like Danny was bugging him more than ever lately. It was getting exhausting trying to dodge all his texts and phone calls. And almost every time, Danny bombarded him with the exact same question — “Are you okay?”

The answer should have been obvious, shouldn’t it? Of course I’m not. I’m never okay. In fact, Erik wondered if there had ever truly been any time in his life when he felt ‘okay’.

He could think of a few precious moments when he’d come close. When things had almost seemed better than okay, even.

But they were always so fleeting. Slipping through his fingers like sand, then gone. Forever.

Nothing lasts. Erik told himself sadly. Not even…

Erik abandoned his spoon and syringe for a moment, crossing to the other end of the kitchen where Harper’s notebook lay. She must have left it out the night before. He looked down at the light purple cover for several long moments. That was when he realized it wasn’t the little black notebook his girlfriend often used to jot down story ideas. It was the journal Devin had given Harper on her eighteenth birthday.

Even after two years, the memory of that night still stung. The terrible words his friend had uttered still echoed in his mind — “A fucking junkie”. That’s what Devin had called him. It was the first and only time in Erik’s life that anyone had ever called him that. And hearing those words had changed everything. It had driven a huge wedge between him and Devin… And between him and Rylie too. He’d barely talked to either of them after that day.

But it made sense, didn’t it? Who’d want to be friends with a useless junkie like him? It wasn’t long before he lost his other friends too. Paul, Brooklyn, Marlene… None of them really talked to him anymore either. The most he ever heard from anyone was the occasional Facebook message. And even those were few and far between.

He’d heard from Rylie and Devin a few weeks ago though, not too long after they saw Harper. And their forced small-talk had led back to that same dreaded question… “Are you okay?” But this time, it was followed by another that was even more important — “Is Harper okay?”

It was a question Erik was almost too afraid of answering. Things with Harper had been so strange lately. It felt like everything was falling apart, even worse than before.

He knew all the stress he’d been causing her was making her feel sick… But it seemed Harper had been changing in other ways too.

She’d been so emotional about everything… And usually not in a good way. She seemed to get sad so easily. The littlest thing was enough to make her burst into tears. And she seemed to get angry just as easily. Sometimes it felt like he couldn’t say or do anything without her getting short with him. And Erik had a feeling he knew the reason.

She’s getting sick of me. She sees what a fucking loser junkie I am. She hates me! That was the only explanation, wasn’t it?

And why shouldn’t she hate him? He didn’t have a job. He was such a fucking downer all the time. He couldn’t even satisfy her anymore!

That was another thing that had changed… It felt like Harper wanted sex all the time lately. She was so damn horny. But he just couldn’t give it to her. Not the way she wanted, at least. He’d tried to find other ways to pleasure her whenever he could, but it still wasn’t enough. She’d started resorting to other means instead. Harper tried her best to be discreet about it, but Erik always knew exactly what she was up to when she retreated into the bedroom alone.

And instead of turning him on, the things Erik heard on the other side of the door always broke his heart.

He should be the one pleasuring her. She shouldn’t have to do it herself. But he was too much of a failure to give her what she needed. How long before she gets sick of a plastic dick and goes looking for a real one instead?! Oh God… Or what if she already has?! Erik’s fists balled at his sides for a few moments as he willed the terrible image that had entered his mind to finally pass… but it didn’t.

Could that be where all the extra money was coming from? Had Harper resorted to selling herself on the streets for him like some kind of fucking whore?! She wouldn’t do that… would she?! Fuck. This is all my fault. Erik rubbed the tears from his eyes so hard that his vision was momentarily clouded with a burst of fuzzy stars. He took a few slow, deep breaths and tried his best to calm himself.

No! I’m being a fucking idiot. She’d never do that! But then where the hell could all that money be coming from?

Erik’s mind was racing, trying to come up with an answer. As much as he hated it, he knew she’d been shoplifting again. But that still didn’t explain things. What the hell could she be stealing that would be worth that much money? Nothing that wouldn’t be hidden behind glass…

Erik shook his head. There was no use trying to figure it out. It didn’t really matter where the money was coming from, did it? What mattered was that, whatever was going on, she wasn’t telling him the truth. It was so obvious that she was hiding something from him. Harper didn’t trust him anymore, plain and simple.

I bet I could find the answer in there… For a moment, Erik’s green eyes flicked back toward the journal. It had been weeks since he’d seen Harper writing anything for her latest novella… But she was always scribbling away in that journal, it seemed. Confiding in it. Telling it her secrets. I can’t believe she trusts some stupid stack of paper more than ME!

Fuck. What am I doing?! Erik threw the journal back on the counter as though it had burned him. How could he even think of betraying Harper like that? Of spying on her private journal? All it would do would make things worse.

Things were already bad enough between them as it was. He was already losing her. He made her resentful and angry. He couldn’t satisfy her in bed. He couldn’t provide for her.

What the hell good am I?! She doesn’t need me.

But he needed her. Desperately. More than anything. Harper was the only thing he had left. She was the only glimmer of hope left in his miserable, fucked-up life.

No matter how much he hated her shoplifting, no matter how angry her secrets made him feel, no matter how distant things were starting to feel between them… He needed her.

And he needed the heroin too.

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I know I’m a couple days early, but to all of my wonderful readers who celebrate, I wish you a very Merry Christmas! And whether you celebrate or not, thank you all for your continued kindness and support ❤