After a couple hours, we were finally done. I sank on the couch, too exhausted to care about my dirty, sweaty, clothes. Nik came into the living room with a small stack of framed photos, putting them down on the coffee table. He grabbed one as he sat down, studying it.

Nik tilted the frame to me and pointed at Ada. “Your sister?” I nodded, and he breathed a chuckle. “Yeah, kind of a dumb question. You look like twins.”

“That’s because we are,” I said, reaching for the photo. Nik handed it over, and I looked down at Ada—her glowing smile, her raven hair, the college graduation gown she was wearing adorned with an array of colored cords.

I tilted the phone back to Nik. “Ada had been accepted into her master’s program here. People would ask if I ever got upset that Ada was so much more successful than me, but I wasn’t. She was the giant in the crowd, and wherever she was going, I’d be there with her.”

“Y’all sound really close,” Nik said, keeping his voice low as if we were sharing secrets.

“That’s an understatement. Ada used to say that sharing a house with someone before you take your first breath is a special type of privilege. We understood each other in a way even our parents didn’t fully understand.” I set the photo face down on the coffee table. Looking at that would snap away the fibers of my already threadbare heart.

“We had no secrets between us. But now all she has are secrets. The person she is now is a stranger to me.” I allowed myself a few tears this time, my hand running over the tattoo on my arm. It used to be a signal of hope for me, an illusion I’d dreamt up, as if an age could signify that there was a chance Ada could get clean. Now, every time I cried about Ada I wondered if it would be the last, but somehow, from some grace of god, I could muster up a few more.

Nik’s hand slid across my shoulders, cupping the back of my neck. I feverishly wiped at my face and sighed. “Thanks for listening. And helping.”

Nik’s fingernails scratched along my scalp, and I leaned into the soothing touch. “No prob.”

He acted so chill it was a little unnerving. Most people would probably do everything they could to get the fuck out of here after seeing someone’s addict sibling had trashed their apartment and then threw up their entire heart on the table.

Maybe he knew someone in a similar position. Did they get clean? What if he actually had the answer to fix her that I’d been searching for? Curiosity tugged at my belly, but I pushed it away. If Nik wasn’t freaking, I sure as hell didn’t want to gamble on it.

But the unsettled feeling intensified. I twisted my hands over themselves. The electrified hum of discomfort was so distracting, I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

Nik’s blue-gray eyes blinked sleepily. “Sure.”

I turned over the question, uncertain. If I talked about it, we’d be in it for good. Nik noticed my hesitation and adjusted his leg until his knee touched the side of my thigh. He waited without an inch of impatience, and that gave me the courage to push through my worry.

“Do you know someone who’s an addict? Because you handled all of this like someone who’s got experience.”

At this, Nik’s shoulders stiffened, and his hand slipped. The air crackled with an energy I couldn’t name. It made my stomach twist, stiffening the muscles.

After a bit, Nik blew out a breath, his cheeks puffing. “I have some history with it, yeah. I was one of the lucky ones, and because of that, I do what I can to help where I can. You ever heard of the Collective?”

There was a lot to process, but I stumbled through the jumble of questions in my head enough to say, “I go to a support group there. It’s the one that’s like Nar-Anon.”

“Yeah, I like the group who helps run that one. They’re good people,” Nik said, a smile that held pride playing at his lips. “I sometimes drop in for the ones that are for people in recovery and talk to them. There’s a couple of programs I help with from time to time too. If you want, I can give you some of their information, and you can chat with them.”

Knowing there was someone who knew people involved in recovery might be exactly what Ada needed. I’d been trying to do this all on my own and getting nowhere, but if there was someone who could help me . . .

“But the thing is, your sister’s gotta want it. No one else,” Nik said, almost like he could read my mind. “You can’t force it.”

I’d heard that a million times before. It was an adage that was passed around like holiday candy, but they never talked about the people that loved them through it, who held them when everyone else walked away.

Twisting my fingers around each other, the heaviness of tonight sinking into my bones. Loving Ada used to be effortless, but that had long exhausted itself. I’d become Atlas, responsible for carrying the weight of her suffering and the aftermath of her afflictions.

“Hey,” Nik murmured, his fingers running through my hair. “You want me to get you something?”

“Honestly, I just want a fucking shower and then be unconscious for a solid eight to ten hours,” I said, blinking sleepily at the feeling of his thumb brushing against my temple. “Will you stay? I don’t want to wake up alone.”

“Of course,” Nik said. “I’ll sneak in a power nap, then pop in after you’re done, if you’ve got a spare towel.”

Relief uncoiled the tension in my shoulders. Before hopping into the shower, I grabbed him a fresh towel and a pair of sweats and laid them on the chair by my bed, but I was out of the shower and under the sheets before he came in to retrieve them.

The sounds of his shower were a balm to my frayed nerves, and I drifted in and out of sleep.

“Hey, is it cool if I borrow a hoodie too?” Nik whispered through my sleepy haze.

“Yeah. Cool.” With my eyes still closed, I gestured toward my closet where I hung my hoodies. As I heard him walk away, I couldn’t help but crack my eyes open to watch him.

My pants hung low on his hips, and a few stray drops of water still dotted his shoulders. His lean muscles flexed as he reached up, and my eyes caught something on the inside of his elbow.

Old wounds dotted the otherwise smooth skin. Track marks. The history that Nik referenced was more personal than I thought. He’d opened himself to me with a confidence in way people who hadn’t lived a day through that life could. His bravery plucked at the strings of my heart, leaving a melody humming through my bones.

When he crawled into bed, I scooted closer and wrapped myself around him. “I’m glad you were here with me,” I whispered against the back of his neck as I placed my hand over his heart. “I’m glad it was you.”

Nik covered my hand with his own. “I’m glad too.”

NIK

The Collective was heavy with the smell of barbecue, the front lawn and wraparound porch were packed with people. There was an enthusiastic game of soccer happening in the backyard, but it looked more like a take on multiple sports all at once. Tristan stood off on the sidelines in his coaching pose, his back straight and arms crossed, his husband Kurt by his side.

Kurt saw me first, poking Tristan in the side with his elbow, then nodding at me. Tristan’s face lit up when he saw me. “Hey, I was wondering when you’d show up.”

“I’m barely late,” I said with a wave. Tristan was big on schedules, and even though today was a tentative time to meet up, I knew he’d be here right as the Sunday potluck started.

Tristan lifted his sunglasses on the top of his head and peered down at his fancy watch. A swift breeze brushed through, pulling tufts of his blond hair over his forehead. “Thirty minutes is pretty significant.”

I knew deep down he was just giving me shit, but I’d be damned if I was going to let him get away with it. “Chance coordinated the meetup time, which means it’s flexible at best. If we go by his standards, I’m on time.”

Kurt laughed, lifting a finger up like he was taking count of a score. Tristan rolled his eyes.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be on my⁠—”

Tristan’s retort got cut off as the cluster of kids rushed past us, Maddie chasing after them, yelling like a rebel. It was impressive how her three-year-old legs could keep up with kids who had a solid two years on her.

When the kids landed on one another in their determined attempt to catch the fleeing ball, Kurt exhaled a sigh that was filled with fondness. “I better go sort things out before our daughter gets crushed in that mess.”

We watched Kurt jog over to the kids, quickly interrupting the game to allow him to take part so he could keep the injury level to a minimum. It didn’t take long until Kurt ended up trapped with the kids surrounding him, and Tristan laughed.

“He’s going to be at that for a minute. So, how’re you doing?” Tristan asked, a linger of worry in his gaze. He was always being the big brother to everyone and upped it a few notches when it was someone he really cared about.

“I’m chill,” I said, happy that I meant it. Even though last night got heavy, waking up with Micah next to me was one of the best ways to wake up. “I did some calls this morning, and one of them ran longer than usual.”

Caleb had crushed his pills and snorted today, which always made him more emotional than usual during our conversations, where he usually ended up talking about wishes that no one but himself could grant. It could get hard to listen to because they hit so close to home.