Chapter 16

He seems to relax a little, appraising my face.

“I still need to ask. I need to know, Sophs. I haven’t seen you sober for months. I don’t know how often you drink or if you partly do because you can’t stop. I need you to be honest with me.” There is no anger in his voice, his soft, almost normal tone urging me to open up, and I shake my head lightly at him, moving my head from his shoulder to do so.

“I can handle not drinking. I’m not that bad. I drink to party, but I’ve gone days without it. I don’t think about reaching for a bottle when I’m sober or chilling through the day if that’s what you’re worried about.” I frown at him, relaxing when that smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. A neon sign that he believes me. It’s not like I’m lying. I know I can walk away from a bottle of vodka and not touch it again if I want to. Alcohol isn’t the issue. It’s my own head and heart, that is, and this constant bedfellow of deep loneliness.

“Is this because of your past