But I’d had to erect some walls around my heart. I held out a foolish hope that he’d someday see me as more, but as the years dragged on, and he resolutely dated guys who were the complete opposite of me, I’d accepted my place in his life. I was in love with him, but I had to let the possibility of him go. He was my friend, and I could pretend he was my brother, and that was it.
With the painkillers threatening to crumble my resolve, or at least my hard-won outlook, I had to do some quick talking to get my thoughts back under control. There were boundaries I had to keep intact for self-preservation. Without them, I’d be vulnerable to his rejection. I couldn’t risk that.
Still, when he walked back in the door almost twenty minutes later, carrying a box and a bag from the drugstore two blocks up, his shit-eating, proud grin was nearly enough to be my undoing.
I was never taking narcotics again.