Christina hadn’t spoken a word to us in a month. Danny and I had made the entire house breakout-proof. Every evening, he walked around the building, closed the old wooden shutters from the outside, and secured them with padlocks. The neighbors probably thought we were totally bonkers now. If they didn’t already, anyway. After all, by that point, half the village had heard about Danny’s illness—and the lifestyle he supposedly led. The fact that two women were always coming and going at his place probably didn’t help his image much.

We didn’t care, though. The people we were close to knew the truth, and they liked us the way we were. The rest of the world could kiss our behinds.

But things were still hard. One Sunday night, the two of us collapsed into bed late, completely worn out. Christina refused to sleep with us that night, preferring to pout in her room. And Danny was beyond stressed.

He hadn’t gone running in days, nor had he been to the gym. Knowing that probably wouldn’t change any time soon put him in a terrible mood. He grew more and more restless, searching in vain for ways to burn off his excess energy. He’d spend his evenings in his workout room, pummeling his punching bag and doing countless chin-ups and push-ups, and then he’d be all over me—only to realize afterward that it still wasn’t enough.

Some days, he’d spend hours pacing the apartment, which nearly drove me out of my mind. For the first time since we’d met, I began to worry ever so slightly that living with Danny full-time might occasionally get annoying.

“Will you be okay sleeping like this?” I’d asked him the first time we locked the shutters. He’d locked his own window, too, afraid that Christina would try to make a break for it when he was dead asleep. I thought his fears were unfounded—Danny would have heard an ant crawling through his bedroom—but he was sure it was the only way.

“No,” he’d said. “I doubt I’ll be getting much sleep in the next few weeks.”

This particular Sunday night was no different. Danny lay there, wide awake, nervously running his hand through his hair and drumming his fingers on the mattress.

“This has to stop, Danny,” I told him. “Tomorrow morning, you’re going running. She’ll be okay without you for an hour.” Stressful as the situation was, I was afraid he would explode if he didn’t blow off a little steam.

“The worst is yet to come,” he predicted. “Pretty soon, she won’t allow us to keep her locked up.”

So far, her physical withdrawal symptoms had been manageable. In the beginning, she’d mostly done a lot of throwing up, crying, and shivering. Danny had piled blankets on top of her, brought a TV to her beside, and slept in her room at night. Today was the first day she’d sent him out, which was why I thought she was starting to feel better—back when she’d been suffering so terribly, she hadn’t wanted him out of her sight for a second.

“The worst is over, isn’t it?” I asked.

“I don’t dare hope that. You don’t get off of smack that easily.”

“She only did it three times.”

“But she was hooked on it for years before. Plus, she hardly weighs anything, and she’s not in a very good mental state, so it didn’t take her long to get addicted again.”

“Danny,” I said. “You’re going running tomorrow. I’ll go to work late, and I won’t let her out of my sight for a minute. Promise.”

He sighed. “Okay. After that, you should probably wait a week before coming back over. What comes next won’t be pretty.”

Danny was right, as always. That same night, Christina marched into our bedroom. “I want out, now!” she shouted. “If you guys don’t let me out of the goddamn house right now, I’ll freak!”

“You’re not getting out of here, Tina,” Danny said calmly. “Whatever you do, you’re staying here.”

“Whatever” turned out to be running around in a circle like a madwoman. Danny got up and put on a sweatshirt and a pair of jogging pants. For a second, I thought he was going to take her outside, but then I realized he was just preparing for a long night.

Without warning, Christina ran into the dining room, grabbed a kitchen chair, and began smashing it against the front door. Danny grabbed her from behind while I took the chair away from her.

“I hate you!” she screeched, punching Danny. “Where do you get off, meddling in my life? Don’t you have enough problems of your own? Mind your own fucking business!”

Danny simply held her wrists and let her throw her tantrum. She kicked him, even tried to bite him. He only released her when she asked to go to the bathroom. Danny followed her, but she ran in and locked herself inside. She spent the rest of the night shouting and screaming behind the door. Danny remained sitting there with his back against it, while I tried to sleep because I had to work the next day.

But Christina was tireless in announcing how much she hated Danny and how much she wanted him out of her life. After an hour or so, I gave up and joined him on the floor. He was sitting there with his knees pulled up and his face buried in his arms, sobbing.

“She doesn’t mean it,” I said in an attempt to comfort him.

“I know that,” he said. He rubbed his eyes, trying to compose himself. “She didn’t make it, Ducky,” he whispered. “We’ve lost her. My gut tells me we’ve lost her. We’ll never get Tina back now.”

“How can you say such a thing?” I was horrified. “It’s just a relapse. She’ll go back to the clinic, and she’ll come out clean again.”

Where was he getting these ideas? Danny was usually so optimistic—why was he suddenly talking like this?

He only shrugged, shook his head, and burst into tears again. We sat there, shoulder to shoulder, listening through the door. After a few hours, Christina came out and attacked Danny all over again. Together, he and I wrapped her in a blanket, fixing her arms and legs in place to keep her from hurting us, and took her to our bed. Danny laid behind her, holding her down with all of his strength. We covered her in a whole stack of blankets, but she kept shivering anyway. By the time she finally fell asleep, the sun was already up.

“Go run if you have the energy for it,” I told Danny. I knew he’d lose his mind if he didn’t—he was taking the whole thing to heart far too much. “Lock the door from the outside if you want. I’ll stay in here with her.”

“Thank you.” Danny gave me a kiss on the cheek and slipped out. He would probably never be too tired to run. I heard him lock the door, and I prayed that Christina would stay asleep until he returned. Until then, I barely dared breathe for fear of waking her.

All at once, for whatever reason, I shared Danny’s fear that we had lost her for good.

 

Even though I was very late to work, I left a couple hours early, claiming I had a headache—which I did, but it wouldn’t normally have kept me from working. I was really only leaving because I was too agitated to concentrate. I decided I’d stop by Danny’s for a while, and then I’d go home to avoid trouble with my parents for having been away so much during the week.

When I arrived, the apartment was astonishingly quiet. Danny had cooked the night before, and Christina was now sitting at the kitchen table, shoveling leftovers into her mouth with almost unnerving gusto. Danny was leaning against the island with his arms crossed, watching her every move the way he’d been doing for days.

“Hello, hello,” I said, glancing between them, and then wrapped my arms around Danny. “How are you?”

“She’s doing better,” he said, answering a question I hadn’t really asked. “The worst is probably over now.”

“I asked how are you.”

He shrugged uncertainly. He probably didn’t think the quiet would last. I hugged him again before sitting down beside Christina. “And you, Tina?” Cautiously, I took her hand. “How are you?”

Christina was silent for a while, avoiding my eyes. “Sorry,” she suddenly blurted out. “I didn’t really mean any of the stuff I said.” Then she stood up and put her plate in the dishwasher. For a moment, she stopped in front of Danny and stroked his arm. “Thank you,” she whispered, and he nodded curtly before she left the room.

“See?” I cried triumphantly. “She’s pulling herself together again!”

Not long after that, Christina’s social worker came to talk to her. Christina was almost too compliant.

Exhausted, I drove home, silently counting the days until she could go to the clinic. Things would be a lot easier for Danny then.

 

***

 

The gym bag was sitting in the hallway, packed and ready. Christina was lying on her stomach beside it, clawing at the carpet. “Who the hell do you two think you are?” she barked at us. “I’m not going! You can’t force me! You’re not my parents!”

Danny had been trying to reason with her for a good two hours, and I was starting to lose my patience. We were never going to get out of here at this rate. The problem was, she was right. We really didn’t have the authority to force her into rehab. We could drag her to the car by force—and were determined to do so if necessary—and haul her off to the clinic, but if she didn’t stay there voluntarily, we didn’t have a prayer. They wouldn’t keep her there against her will.

“Tina,” Danny began for the hundredth time. “There’s no other way. If I leave you here now, you’ll take off at the first opportunity, and then the whole thing will start all over again. How often have we done this already?”

“I don’t want to!” she wailed. “Doesn’t what other people want count for anything in your fucking egocentric world?”

“Don’t be unfair, Tina,” I scolded her. She was starting to wear away my already thin patience. We were only trying to help.

“Please, just let me go, please!” She’d switched gears—now she was playing the sympathy card. “Please!” She grasped Danny’s hand. “If you really love me as much as you always say you do, then please just let me go now.”

Danny remained firm. We both knew she was pulling out all the stops to get what she wanted. Which was heroin. She’d have sold her own grandmother for it.

“Different strategy,” I hissed to Danny, and he nodded. I pulled her fingers free of the carpet, and he simply lifted her up and carried her out to the car. I walked ahead of them, carrying her bag, and opened the door to sit in the back with her.

She swung her fists at us wildly as Danny got in, locked the doors, and started the car.

“Tina!” I shouted at her. “Stop this shit! You’re not getting out of here!”

“I hate you both!” She was back to screaming again. I tried to hold her hands down, because she kept reaching out to hit Danny from behind. “How dare you?” she screeched at him. “I thought you were my friend! You said we would always stick together, that you would do anything for me! You lied! You’re a disgusting liar, you just want to get rid of me!”

“It’s not going to work, Tina,” Danny growled back. “You’re not going to change my mind. You can go ahead and hate me if it helps you, but I’m taking you to that goddamn clinic.”

“I do hate you,” she sobbed. “You’re just like all the others. You want to ship me off somewhere to get rid of me. We’re done! Things will never be the same between us. We’re going our separate ways for good!”

I knew perfectly well that she didn’t mean any of it, that she’d never leave Danny once she’d cooled off and her head was clear again. Danny knew it, too. Even so, I could tell how much her words hurt him—and that he felt like throwing her out of the moving car.

“Danny,” I griped. “This isn’t going to work. I can’t hold her.”

He stopped at the shoulder and beckoned for me to come up front to drive, while he clambered between the seats into the back. That worked better. I focused on the crisp female voice of the GPS up front, while Danny struggled with Christina in the back. When she was angry, she always reminded me of a Tasmanian devil. At least now Danny would have a chance to use up some of his excess energy.

Fortunately, there was hardly any traffic, so we made good time. After a while, I glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw Christina curled up on Danny’s lap, crying, as he stroked her back. When I finally spotted the large building with the green wooden shutters nestled among the pines, I nearly cheered in delight.

I got out and opened the door for the other two. Danny pushed Christina out of the car, and she let herself fall to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Together, we got her to her feet again.

Danny raised her chin, forcing her to look at him. His blue eyes bored into hers. “You’re going in there, Tina,” he told her. “You’re going to be good and do what they tell you. I’ll join you in a couple of days. You can do this. As soon as you’re halfway stable again, I’ll bring you home. I promise!”

Christina was at her wits’ end. She clung to his sweatshirt, gazing up at him through bloodshot eyes. “Please, Danny. Please don’t. Please don’t do this to me. Don’t leave me here. I’m begging you, don’t leave me here. You’re the only person in my life, I love you more than anything, please don’t do this to me. Don’t break my heart. Don’t leave me alone!”

If they kept this up, they were going to break each other’s hearts.

Seeing us pull up, two attendants came out of the building and headed toward us.

“I’ll be here soon!” Danny assured her. “I’ll bring you back home, I promise! I swear on my life, I’ll bring you back home!” He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the lips.

The attendants unclamped her fingers from Danny’s sweatshirt and pulled her inside. Though she put up no resistance, Christina kept looking back over her shoulder and reaching out for Danny, as if hoping he would save her at the last minute.

After she had gone, he stood there in the parking lot for several minutes, staring after her, looking totally lost. I was almost afraid he would run in after her and bring her out again. “Come on,” I said, taking his elbow. “I’ll drive home.”

Still staring at the building, Danny absently climbed into the passenger seat.

“You did everything right,” I assured him. “She’ll get over it, and she’ll thank you later. Just like she did before. There was no other choice.”

I could tell it hurt his soul to leave her behind like that. They were yin and yang, peas in a pod. Now and forever.

 

***

 

Danny spent his twenty-second birthday in rehab with Christina. He returned just before New Year’s, and he and I drove up into the mountains, to the same hotel the three of us had stayed at the year before.

Danny hadn’t said another word regarding that vague, foreboding feeling about Christina that had come over him that one awful night. His optimism had returned. It had been a relapse—those were always a possibility—but it hadn’t been the end of the world. She’d be in rehab for a while, and then she’d start over.

He wanted that so badly.