6
ROMI
“You’re sure you want to go tonight?” Davis asked. “We can fake an emergency if you’d like. Blame everything on me.”
In private, Davis was a sweetheart. His public persona was a whole other ball game, but he used the fierceness as a defence. If people were scared of him, they didn’t dig too deep below the surface. But when we’d found ourselves sitting next to each other in group therapy, day after day, I’d learned to see the real him.
Strangers would look at us together and make a snap judgment about our relationship. It was so obvious, wasn’t it? Davis was the wealthy financier, freshly divorced and ready for his midlife crisis, and I was the airhead girlfriend, so easily bought with shiny baubles and trinkets.
In reality, we were both fighting addiction, doing our best while
