I watched Dr. Chao from where I laid in a fetal position on her couch.

She was frowning, lines of concentration on her forehead as her eyebrows continued to draw together. My mother had no doubt spoke with her about my confession a few days ago. I hadn't known what to expect out of the truth finally being in the air between my mother and me, out of the dark void my heart had become. Part of me had believed that I was suddenly be free from the pain, the hurt, the memories; but they had come back with a vengeance. With them was the fear that Louis would retaliate against me for telling my mother.

Only he acted as if he hadn't been talked to about it. It was almost like my mother had been keeping it to herself, not sure where to turn or if she should confirm her husband's suspicions. In fact, Louis had still been sneaking sneers in my direction at home and school, and would even occasionally flip me off like an immature child.

"How are you feeling, Marley?"

"Dead inside." I breathed.

She frowned and straightened herself. "How is Gage?"

I knew what she was doing; redirection to a topic she knew would get me talking.

"Alyssa said he's doing a little better. The withdraws are killing him. She went to visit Monday and refused to allow me to go. She said that I'd seen enough horror and didn't need to experience watching him struggle through his withdrawal."

"How do you feel about that?"

I shrugged. "I want to see him. I. . . I feel like I can't do this without him. He was always here for me. He was always comforting me. Now I'm just. . . I feel lost, like I'm back to square one again."

"Elaborate on that for me."

"I just. . . he understood me. Everyone sits here and gives me these sympathetic looks, pitiful glances-like the one you're giving me now-but he never did. He always just held me, or he'd just let me cry." I said. "He told me when he caught me cutting at school that he wanted me to give him my pain. He said he was over his own, that he could handle it, but he didn't want to see me hurt. And now. . . I've failed him. I just let him kill himself. I wasn't enough."

Dr. Chao's sympathetic look only grew more intense as she heard my words. Finally, noting I was done speaking, she responded.

"Gage has such a beautiful soul. That boy was always so kind despite what happened to him. But you need to understand that his decisions and choices had nothing to do with you, Marlene. He had the ability to love you and hate himself, and he found that his hatred for himself outweighed his love for you. But that has nothing to do with your actions."

"I don't want to die, Dr. Chao." I whimpered, her image blurring across the room. "But I don't want to be here anymore either. With Gage I was able to forget about my dad, I was able to breathe and be distracted from what Louis did for just a couple hours. I felt like I could be normal. Like one day I'd be okay again."

"That hope shouldn't waver based on the actions of others, Marley." she answered. "I see your progress, even if you do not. And nobody did that. Not Gage. Not April. Not your mother. And surely not me. You made the decision to start to open up, to have, however small, the desire to live again, all on your own."

I wiped at my nose. "It hurts, Dr. Chao. I feel like I'm drowning and I can't get back up for air."

"It will get easier." she said softly. "Not today, not tomorrow, possibly not in a few months. But one day, you will be okay. And you'll know it. You'll still have your bad days, but you'll stand a little taller, smile a little brighter, and you'll know that there are more things to live for than to die for."

**

I was setting Gage's bed the same way I'd done when he was still living here. He'd always left it a complete disheveled mess. I started across the room to grab the hamper of dirty clothes, but stopped when I saw the portrait Gage had shown me a couple months ago peeking out from behind a picture frame. Unhooking the frame, I set it on the computer chair beside me and touched my hand to the picture.

He'd finished it sometime since he'd shown me-or since I'd moved in, I suppose. It was absolutely breathtaking.

Somehow he'd managed to capture my entire essence in just a drawing. From the curve of my nose to the beauty mark under my right eye just above my cheekbone, he'd gotten every feature down to perfection. But there was something in the eyes, the hazel eyes staring back at me, that both warmed my heart and broke it all at once. They were so beautiful, green flecks even added in, but there was an undeniably lost look in them.

"He loves you so much." Alyssa's voice was quiet and cautious, careful not to startle me. "When he was younger, before his first attempt, he used to ask what it was like to feel loved by someone and how you knew you loved them. And I told him I loved him so he knew what that felt like, but he told me that wasn't what he meant."

She edged closer and hugged her thin jacket around her, her nose bright red from crying nonstop for weeks. "I told him, "Love is funny. It's feeling as though you want to take all their pain, absorb it within yourself, if it meant that they would be okay."

I thought back to my conversation in the bathroom with him, the look in his eyes, the pain, the plead for me to give him my pain. We'd hardly known each other then, but he hadn't wanted to see me in pain, and somehow that made me want to cry even more. Because he'd cared, when I wasn't worth caring about, when I should be gone and in the ground beside my father, he was ensuring I was still here.

"He didn't speak much Monday, but they said he's doing a bit better. But he did ask me a question." She paused and rested a hand on my shoulder. "He asked if you hated him. I told him that you could never, but that you were angry with him, hurt, but that loving someone as much as you two care for one another, you couldn't possibly hate him."

She was right. I didn't hate Gage, but I was furious with him. I was hurt that he'd tried to leave me here to fend for myself. That he hadn't confided in me just how much he was struggling. But more importantly, I was angry with myself for not seeing it. I was so caught up in my own shit I hadn't seen how broken he was.

"He told me to tell you that he promises he's going to try this time." she continued, her voice catching. "That he's going to try and get better. For you."

I shook my head, fighting the tears in my eyes. "He should be trying to get better for himself. For you."

"Love is funny, Marley." She said, leaning toward me so her head was resting against mine. "Even in his position all he cares about is taking your pain away."

*

I was stirred awake by my phone buzzing continuously under my head. Groaning, I grabbed it from where it was under Gage's pillow and bolted upright. I had over a dozen texts and even more missed calls from April.

"April? Hey, are you okay?"

There was silence on the other end before a quiet, "I need you to come help me."

"Where are you? Are you okay?" I kicked the blanket off and swung my legs off the side of the bed. "Do I need to call the police?

"Please don't! No, I'm okay, Marley. I just. . . I need you."

I put the phone on speaker and set it down so I could grab one of the few sweatshirts Gage had left in his closet and a pair of my pants from my duffel bag. "Where are you, April?"

"Downtown. McCormick Hotel." she said quietly, as if she were trying not to speak too loud. "My car is down in the lot and the key is in it. I need you to call me as soon as you get here."

"April, what's going on?"

Something twisting in my gut told me not to put my shoes on and go, but the desperation in her voice won me over and I glanced down at my phone.

"April?"

When I looked again, she'd hung up. Logging on to my rideshare app, I headed for the living room, praying to God or whatever being was up above that I'd make it through the night without too much heartache.