Page 7 of Sin With Me

“Probably a good thing. Based on my record, we wouldn’t have talked again after the first conversation.”

“Is that right?” she drawls, and I hear the amusement in her tone. “You’re a hit-it-and-quit-it kinda guy?”

“Guess ya could say that,” I admit sheepishly.

“One of your mechanisms to avoid rejection, shame, and guilt?”

I clear my throat, growing agitated that she’s sounding a lot like my old therapist.

“It’s easier not givin’ them hope. I can’t promise anythin’ more than one night. I’m already a burden to my family. I don’t wanna burden a partner, so might as well give ’em a good time for a night.”

“Well, without the burden of proof, I don’t believe your family feels that way. And you callin’ here—more than once—isproofthat deep down you know you’re not. Your family loves you unconditionally.”

“You’re wrong.”

I know I am.

I can see it in the way my brother looks at me. The way he follows me like a shadow because he doesn’t trust I won’t dosomething stupid or risky. And it’s the way I let him because I don’t trust myself either.

He hasn’t even introduced me to his new girlfriend because he doesn’t trust me not to fuck it up for him.

“Am I?” By the tone of her voice, I imagine her lifting a scolding brow at me. “If that’s true, then you’d stop callin’ me.”

“Hello, you reached the Haven Grace prayer crisis hotline. How can I assist you in prayer today?”

“This is the fourth night you’ve volunteered this week.”

“And this is the fourth night you’ve called this week.” There’s a hint of amusement in her voice but just a little to where it’s not inappropriate to say to someone who’s been calling a crisis hotline for two months.

It’s actually the sixth night I’ve called. When she’s not there, I hang up.

I have no interest in talking to someone new and starting over. But I also didn’t want to scare her off by asking which nights she’d be there.

“The holidays are the most stressful time of the year,” I say, only half-joking.

“Are you feelin’ stressed or more worried than usual? Do you have the urge to?—”

“No, no. I haven’t felt that since I started talkin’ to you.”

“Oh. Really?” she asks as if that shocks her. Truthfully, it shocks me too.

“Yes, really. I look forward to talkin’ to you. I’m finally not lettin’ someone down for once.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“I don’t wanna disappoint you. I appreciate the way you listen to me without judgment, so the least I can do is make you proud.”

It makes me think twice before grabbing my razor because I’ll get to talk to her without feeling like a failure.

The line goes dead silent, and I worry we got disconnected.

“Delly?”

“Ya know, that kinda sounds like somethin’ a therapist would also do for you. Have you thought any more about seein’ one?”

“Why do I need one when I have you? You’ve done more for me in two months than my psychiatrist did in two years.”

“Because I won’t be here forever and you’ll still need someone.”