I stumble toward the dorm, everyone's words echoing in my brain like an endless taunt.

I wiped a clammy palm against my thigh.

You're a liar and a terrible person. Your mom was right about you all along, the insidious voice in my head taunted. You're the worst thing that's ever happened to everyone around you.

"Shut up."

This is why you never had any friends growing up. Why no one loves you. You don't deserve—

The jumble of voices in my head sharpens the ache into a piercing pain. The walls press in until the phantom scrape of white plaster against my skin roils in my stomach.

I wasn't claustrophobic but right now my thoughts were trapping me in a cage so small I was suffocating with each breath.

Tears blur my vision, and I'm not even sure If I'm going in the right direction, but I don't care. I just need to get away.

From the guilt of lying to everyone. From the disappointment in Warner's gaze.

From the knowledge that I've fucked up and had no one else to blame but myself.

I swiped at my cheeks with the back of my hand, but it was like trying to sweep water back into the ocean. Utterly futile.

I knew there was a chance that Warner would react badly to the truth. I just hadn't expected him to react that badly.

The worst part was, that he was right. I hadn't trusted him enough to tell the truth. I'd been so blinded by my insecurities, so terrified of destroying one of the few beautiful things in my life, that I turned its destruction into a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Warner hadn't cared that I messed up or that I relapsed.

He'd only cared that I lied to him.

I was such a fucking idiot.

I wasn't there but you could've called. You know I would've left the second you called if something was wrong.

I should've just told him right away. I just kept digging a deeper and deeper hole for myself with each lie I told him and my friends.

My friends still didn't know what a screw-up I was.

Fresh needles of pain pierce my chest. My heart burns like someone has raked it over hot coals, and I can't drag enough air into my lungs. Maybe it was because every breath hurt.

Every breath, every heartbeat, every blink. Normal bodily functions all hurt.

I hated myself

Even my body hated me

Why couldn't I just be a normal college student? Why did every day have to be such a struggle? Why couldn't I just be normal?

"Get yourself together," I hiccup walking to my building.

I close my eyes, wishing with everything in me that I could turn back time and redo all my decisions over the past month.

How have I fucked up my own life so badly?

I open my eyes again, not wanting to spend too long in my thoughts. They would just torture me.

I walk through the dark, silent dorm floor, my steps unnaturally loud against the floor. Everyone was still at the event so I didn't have to field questions about why I looked like such a hot mess.

I had plans to just take some sleeping pills and sleep the night away but I stop in my tracks when I see the plate of cookies Abby made today. The cookies I had been longing for all day but couldn't eat because I knew I would be wearing this dress.

I grab one.

One won't hurt.

Then another.

I had no control at this point. I couldn't even taste the cookies as they entered my mouth but I couldn't stop.

My movements were stiff and mechanical like I wasn't truly here.

I wish I wasn't.

I don't stop until the entire plate of cookies is gone and the familiar post binge shame overtakes me.

I head to the bathroom and double over, hands on my knees, silent shudders wracking my body. The pressure inside me strangles every vital organ, but no matter how much it builds and builds, it refuses to explode. It just sits there, suffocating me from the inside out.

Something warm and wet trickles down my cheek. Its saltiness teases my lips, and I realize I'm crying again.

Unlike my earlier sobs, these tears don't make a sound. They are quiet screams trapped in my chest, burrowing into my bones and suffocating me.

I don't bother wiping them away. I just lay there on the bathroom floor, staring into the darkness and letting it eat me alive.

______

I am driving so far above the speed limit I am shocked nobody has pulled me over. I am pretty sure I wouldn't stop even if a cop tried. I needed to get to Juliet.

Something was wrong.

"Jesus Christ! This isn't fast and furious!" Abby yells, gripping my seat.

"You could've taken an uber." I grit out at her but she just glares my way.

"She's my best friend. I need to be there for her. Especially after you acted like an idiot."

I clench the steering wheel to stop myself from telling her to shut up. She was Juliet's friend after all.

My tension hardens into a migraine. "I know I'm an idiot. I don't need to be reminded."

Abby continues like I hadn't spoken. "Yes, Juliet may have lied to us, but she also willingly told you the truth. It probably took a lot of courage for her to tell you. According to you, she didn't tell you earlier because she was afraid of how you'd react. Now tell me. How did you react when she finally told you?"

I think back and cringe at myself.

Get the fuck out of my room. I can't look at you right now.

Of course, I'm mad at you! You lied to my fucking face

I can't keep doing this Jules

My heart slams against my chest and bruises my ribcage with each painful thud.

The oxygen in the car thins.

Forget painful. Every breath is downright excruciating.

I tilt my head back and squeeze my eyes shut again. "Fuck."

I was a fucking idiot.

I don't remember driving the rest of the way to the dorm or walking up the stairs to our floor. But once I get onto our floor I break into a sprint to her room.

"Juliet!" I rap my knuckles at her door but nobody answers.

She isn't there.

A broken wail seeps from the bathroom next to her room and the fear in her cries wraps around my throat, threatening to strangle me.

"What the fuck?" I pull on the handle of the door, trying to force it open.

"Juliet. Please open the door!" I shout, punching the plaster surrounding it. "Fuck!"

I let my head fall to the door, feeling at a loss as she continues to cry from the other side.

"Juliet!" I scream, jostling the doorknob to the bathroom. I pound on the wood.

"JULIET!" Fear has already begun to cannibalize my soul. I thought space was what she needed – I didn't think it was this bad.

I've been so wrapped up in her lying to me that I couldn't see what was happening. I couldn't lose her. Not for a moment. Not for a second.

I frantically try to enter the door, the water gurgling through the bottom of the door. The shower is on.

"Move," I tell Abby who is standing beside me, frozen in fear.

Abby shifts so I can slam my shoulder into the door. After two tries, it blows open. I barrel into the room, the shower curtain rings clinking against the rod as I yank it back.

"No, no, no, no, no...." I feel like the air leaves my own lungs the moment I see Juliet, clothed, sitting in the plugged tub with the shower beating down on her thin body.

"Holy fuck.... Jesus..." My eyes catch sight of the throw-up in the sink, and I lose it. I jump right into the freezing water. I fit her between my legs while she trembles, while she clutches her knees to her chest. Water pours on us, soaking our hair, and our clothes. And I hold her delicate face between my hands as she cries.

I can't function.

I'm having flashbacks to her laying limp in my arms in the parking lot covered in blood. Her body is once again limp in my arms.

I pull my water-damaged phone out of my pocket, almost dropping it back in the water as my hands start violently trembling. I punch in the numbers 9-1-1 and when I hit dial Juliet finally speaks, "No. No 911 please."

One tiny sob from her and pain burns through my lungs and rushes through my blood. It squeezes my heat so tight that I have to force myself to breathe through the ache,

"Okay, fine no 911. I'm here baby I'm here. ..." The rough crack in my voice sounds foreign to my ears.

I give Abby a look who is standing in the doorway looking as pale as a ghost and she knows exactly what I'm asking without me saying a word.

My chest collapses, every part of me is screaming inside. I feel like I've broken the only girl I've ever loved. And all I want to do is rearrange the pieces and put her back together. I search her eyes that brim with tears, and even when Abby shuts off the faucet, we both shake from more than just the cold.

She lets out another sob and my heart breaks. "Shhh." I rest my chin on top of her head and rub gentle circles on her back, wishing I weren't so damn helpless. I would've done anything, bargained with anyone to erase her pain. But I couldn't fix this.

"I'm here," I say, her pain just tearing right through me. "You're okay." She clings to me like I may slip through her arms, pull back and leave. I wouldn't. I can't. Our love is rare. I can't abandon it, even if I tried. When she cries, my world rains with grief. When she hurts, an identical hurt rips through me.

I have never loved anyone else as much as I love Jules.

"I'm...sorry..." She sobs, her shirt sticking to her thin body. She buries her head into the crook of my shoulder, and I hug her close, rubbing her back. Warming her with the friction.

"Sorry for what, Jules?" I whisper.

"I meant to tell you earlier..." Jules murmurs, coming out of her hiding place on my shoulder. Her wet hair is darker and moulds her pale cheeks, sadness pouring out of her eyes. I stroke her head. "I tried...but I got scared."

"No, I'm sorry. For reacting the way, I did. For lashing out at you when you only tried to do the right thing. I should've just stayed and listened and I'm sorry."

She closes her eyes and the panic in my chest gets worse, I continue to press a thumb against her wrist, occasionally stopping to search for a sign of life until the ambulance gets here. There was no way we weren't calling 911, Abby would get them here soon.

"Don't close your eyes, Juliet." I gather her petite frame in my arms, bringing her up to my chest, sobbing into her hair. I cling to her. "I'm sorry for not being there," I whisper through my grief.

The sirens sound in the distance and she opens her eyes at the sound of the ambulance and looks at me, betrayal in her eyes. "You said you wouldn't call." She shakes her head, crying profusely.

I brush my thumb over her cold skin, "I didn't call...Abby did."

_____

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Everything sounds muffled except for the echo of my footsteps against the linoleum floors.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

What if I'd reacted better? What if I'd reached her earlier? What if I were a better boyfriend?

What if, what if, what if.

My steps falter for a second outside of my room before my hands close around the doorknob and twist. It's like I am watching a movie of myself – I am here, but not really.

I tell our friends what happened, trying to sound anything but numb, but I barely hear my own words. I only heard the sound of Juliet's sobs in the bathtub, and how fragile she felt in my arms.

Each sound drives a phantom spike through my chest until I am so littered with them that I can't breathe.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Not my footsteps, but the sound of my heart breaking.

I maintain my stoic mask until I run out of words and leave the rest of our friends in our dorm room. I needed a minute, just one minute, to myself.

I quicken my steps until I reach the nearest bathroom. The numbness spreads from my chest to my limbs, but when I close the door behind me, the soft click of the lock sliding into place unleashes a sharp sob that rips through the air.

It takes me several seconds to realize it came from me.

The pressure building behind my ribcage finally explodes, and I double over the sink, dry heaving until my ears ring and my throat is raw.

Juliet's lifeless body in the bathtub.

Juliet in the emergency room after the parking lot.

Juliet's betrayed face as she was taken to the hospital.

The memories run together in a stream.

I gag again, but I haven't eaten since yesterday so nothing comes out.

When my dry heaving fades, sweat clings to my skin and my head pounds with tension.

I turn on the faucet and splash my face with cold water before paper towelling off the moisture. The rough brown material scratches against my skin, and when I catch my reflection in the mirror, I see faint purple smudges beneath my eyes and white lines of tension bracketing my mouth.

I looked like hell.

God, I needed a strong drink.

I set my jaw and toss the crumpled paper towel into the trash. By the time I return to the main floor. I have fixed my mask back in place.

I don't have the luxury of wallowing in grief or self-pity. I had someone to see.

______

I didn't think I would be able to see Dr.Ivey without yelling at her for giving Juliet such horrible advice so I go to her previous therapist instead. Kendra was much more soft-spoken and although she wasn't as high profile as Dr.Ivey she was kind and I think Juliet needed more kind people in her life.

I filled Kendra in on everything that has happened and waited for her response. After what felt like ages she finally speaks.

"She needs to go to an inpatient facility Warner," Kendra says, her voice serious. She was confirming my fear of what would happen next. What needed to happen next.

I close my eyes against the tears that sear my eyes at her words, at the truth in them that I'd hope to deny until my dying day. My next inhale is stiff and full of fire.

"She needs real help. I can get her that. We can get her that. I know it's not fair. I know it's hard. You're too young to have to make decisions like this. But trust me when I say this is her best option at the moment." She continues, her words hitting their intended target as my chest cracks open.

I swallow, eyes glossing over as I stare at the floor.

Juliet leaving me, going away where I can't see her.

I close my eyes, my heart squeezing so painfully that I double over as the cost of this weighs on me.

I had no choice.

This was my Juliet. The love of my life. The girl who stayed with me, who kept by my side during the worse time of my life, who supported me and believed in me and loved me.

I couldn't let her continue to struggle.

"Okay. I'll talk to her today."

____

When I close my eyes to try to sleep at night, nightmarish visions of Juliet in the bathtub kept me awake. I could hear her cries, and see the tears staining her cheeks as she begged me not to call the ambulance.

I walk down the hall to her hospital room and it should have been something I was used to, the hollowness in my chest. After watching Juliet be held at gunpoint I thought I'd felt the worst emotional pain of my life, thought I had survived the worst heart break I'd ever experienced.

I wanted to laugh at that now, but I couldn't muster up anything that even resembles joy – no matter how sarcastic.

It didn't matter if Juliet would never understand. I couldn't spend another day of her relapsing. She needed professional care more than once or twice a week.

You're doing the right thing, Warner.

Those were the words Kendra said yesterday morning when I'd agreed to the inpatient facility.

And I hoped she was right. I hoped this would be what was best for my Juliet, that I could finally give her an ounce of all that she'd given me over my life. She had sacrificed so much for me this year.

And so, I would sacrifice for her. Over and over again, no matter how much it took.

But it didn't make any of it hurt any less.

________

Warner enters my hospital room and he might as well be a different person from yesterday. Gone was the black tux and perfectly gelled hair; in its place was someone gruffer, more world-weary. Stubble shadowed his cheeks and jaw, his skin had taken on a pallid case, and his hair looked like he'd raked his fingers through it a thousand times. Regret filled his eyes and sent my stomach tumbling off a cliff.

My heart whimpers like a wounded animal eager for comfort from the only person capable of providing it.

"Hi." I lamely wave at him.

"I wasn't sure if you wanted to see me." He stuffs his hands in his pockets. His brows are drawn tight over worried eyes.

I bite the inside of my cheek until a coppery taste fills my mouth.

"Can we talk? I have..." He pauses, his throat flexing with a hard swallow. "I have something I need to tell you."

Something was wrong.

My heart drops. He must be breaking up with me because he realized I am a total nutcase. After seeing me have a breakdown in a bathtub over some cookies. He was coming here to dump me.

"I know this is about yesterday. I am so sorry." I cry, covering my face in my hands

"Stop saying sorry," he replies, voice strained. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that," I strangle out.

Warner shakes his head and turns his back to me again.

"Please stop apologizing. I wanted to be there. I want to help. " He groans, dropping his head in his hands.

My heart is racing so hard in my chest at this moment that I find myself breathing faster, exhaling in short, puffy breaths.

"Warner..." I warn. "What is it? You're scaring me."

I see every ounce of effort he puts into trying to keep his face straight, into trying to remain emotionless. But slowly, little by little, he gives himself away. His eyebrows bend, nostrils flaring, bottom lip quivering just once before he blows out a breath.

He pauses.

"I talked to Kendra and she and Dr.Ivey both agree that the next step for you is inpatient care. You might need to go away for a while. To get better. With 24/7 care."

His words flip me upside down. "What?"

A look of pain stretches across Warner's face as he blows out a hard breath. "I love you and it's because I love you that I can't be selfish with you. All I want is to be with you, but I can't do that if you are sick. All of the professionals I've talked to agree that the best thing for you is inpatient treatment."

Disbelief rips through me, cinching my chest. I turn away from him, pulling my lips between my teeth as I try to process what he's telling me. The heart that was beating so rapidly from nerves, is now cracking in two. "Oh." It's hardly a whisper, barely a breath. "Where is it?"

He pauses, glancing away. "Barrie."

I feel blindsided. "That's three hours away."

A small sob breaks through, despite my best efforts to hold it in. Warner takes my hand, but I pull away as if he struck me with a match. "Please don't try to comfort me when you're the one sending me away." I rise from the bed and walk over to the bay window, desperate to get away. Desperate to hide how much he's hurting me.

"Baby..."

I whip around, finding him standing a few feet behind me. "Don't call me that."