You Must Be the One

Gold & Silver 4/4

Golden
You're so golden
I don't wanna be alone
You're so golden
You're so golden
I'm out of my head
And I know that you're scared
Because hearts get broken

"Here you go," Bradley set down a tall glass of ice water on the place mat. "Are you hungry? I could make you a sandwich or something."

"I'm fine, thanks." Her face was still on fire from earlier. It definitely wasn't her finest hour and that, coupled with the humiliation of ignoring his message, didn't make for easy conversation.

He sat down in the spot across from her, pushing in his chair and she glanced up.

"Were you working out? I interrupted."

"You didn't. Just got back in from a run. I was going to make myself something."

"And then I rang the doorbell like some insane person," she shook her head, leaning back. "Oh, my God, you must think---"

"I think you really needed to talk to Sam," he supplied gently, "or else you wouldn't be here."

His tone held no traces of judgement and she felt herself relax slightly. "Yeah. And when he didn't answer, I dunno. I panicked, I guess. I didn't know what else to do."

He looked at her, nodding. "Like I said, I've been there. You did the right thing."

She snorted. "Googling my sponsor's address because he didn't answer the phone? Pretty sure there's a whole ethical code somewhere that I just violated."

"You're sitting at a kitchen table with me instead of trying to score somewhere. Lesser of two evils, I think."

At that, she cracked a smile. "When you put it that way..."

He smiled back before folding his hands, his expression changing into something more serious. "Do you still want to use? Right now."

Her fingers drifted over the slickness of the glass and she bobbed her head in affirmation, too full of shame and disgust to speak.

"Can you promise me something?"

When he asked, she thought she could finally understand what he'd met when he told her to trust her intuition, that she would know when someone's intentions were good.

"Yes."

"Good. Okay, here it is." He sat at the edge of his chair. "Please stay until Sam gets here. I don't know what time he'll be back, but with the way you're feeling right now...I don't want to let you just leave. You can tell me to fuck off, if you want. I know it isn't my place and I'm probably way out of line. And I know I've said I've been in your shoes, maybe a dozen times since we've met, but it's the God's honest truth, Stefani. I'm only able to even be here to talk to you right now because someone wouldn't let me leave, either."

The impact of what he was saying shot out to sink into the middle of her chest like a pile of bricks and she braced herself, putting both of her hands on her knees.

"I'm not gonna tell you to fuck off," she returned quietly. "You're being kind and you want to help."

"I do," he said earnestly. "However I can."

She scratched at her chin. "Are you sure? You might regret it."

He regarded her with clear ocean eyes. "I don't think that's true. Not even a little."

Taking this in, she nodded. "Okay, so, is this the part where I tell you why I want to use right now? Like, the thing that happened to cause this feeling?"

"Not if you don't want to. I also know nothing specific has to happen."

"You're right about that. I mean, I sort of know the reason, but in all honesty, there hasn't been a day that's gone by in the last two and a half months where I haven't thought about it. It's better when I stay busy, but yeah...always sneaks in there, even it's just for a few seconds."