CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Am I Enough?
LAKE
I shoot awake at the sound of my ringtone, even though the noise is distant. I clamp my arms tighter, taking in the blazing light reflecting off of white walls. My phone keeps ringing, but I’m nowhere near it. I couldn’t race to shut it up if I tried, because I’m down the hall in Serenity’s bed. My arms are looping around her bare stomach, and the only thing covering our bodies is her comforter.
She smells like sunshine.
That doesn’t bother me anymore.
She snores softly. Strands of her hair are on my face. She has a crazy amount of different shaped pillows on her bed, but I didn’t snag a pillow of my own. We’re sharing hers.
I carefully pull my limb from between her waist and arm, and I trace her soft skin with my fingers. I watch her and every breath she takes, the longer I graze her skin, the slower her breathing gets.
Serenity hasn’t slept well in days. If she has work, I make her take my truck if I have nowhere to go. She’ll leave as the sun sets and come back before it rises. She’ll take a shower and eat something, nap for about two hours, before she’s up again. I spend hours of my days watching movies with her, and when I can’t find a joke to poke at, I see her tired, aching expression.
I haven’t heard her snore in over a week. Now she is. Good. That’s good.
My phone rings again from my bedroom and she twitches. I take that as my cue to go. I know it’s Brooks. He’s insisting on driving me to rehab because he’s pissed that I visited Ma yesterday. I’m probably late. No way he’s gonna let up.
Don’t mind that, because the longer I’m watching Angel sleep, the more I’m questioning what the fuck I’m doing in her bed, and I don’t wanna dwell on it. Not now.
I slip my other arm free from under her, and another quiet noise rumbles out of her throat. I wait until her snoring returns. Her features relax, and she nuzzles herself into her edge of the pillow. For whatever reason, the peace on her face drives me closer to her, and I sow a kiss on her cheek before escaping from her bed.
I pull her door upwards when I open it—it doesn’t creak that way—and I practically tip-toe through the hallway, butt-ass naked, to my room.
I grab my phone off of my nightstand and answer Brooks’ call. “Yo.”
The instant sigh is so aggressive I’m ready for him to break into the house and jump me. “You are going to be late,” he says.
I can picture him pinching his fingers together in front of his face. “You have two minutes to get downstairs before I sit my butt on the wheel.”
He’s messing with me, but the idea of him blasting his horn makes me antsy. “Just getting dressed.” I pull random stuff out of my dresser. “Don’t honk, Serenity’s sleeping.”
He huffs again. “Two. Minutes.”
He hangs up before I tell him to suck it.
I get ready in record timing. Toss on a pair of jeans and socks, and I throw a black sweatshirt over my head as I pass by Angel’s door, but I come to a quick stop.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and shoot her a text, reminding her I’m at rehab. Once her phone dings from the other side of the door, I hurry downstairs. Throw on my shoes, my coat, take my keys, and lock the front door.
Serenity never locks it. I swear she doesn’t listen to me on purpose. I’m wondering if I should staple a sign to the door, so she remembers. Sure she’d remember if I got on my knees and kissed up her thighs, teasing her soft skin with my tongue, and promising to never quit kissing her. Then she’d listen to me.
My eyes narrow. Now’s not the time to daydream about pleasing her, although I want to.
I sprint to Brooks’ car and almost fall on my ass from a mud puddle. My hands fly out in front of me and I catch my balance when I land on the hood of the car. I don’t look at him, but as I rear around the SUV, I hear his asshole-wheezing.
I swing open the door. “Shut the hell up.”
He sucks in air, puffing it out in heavy laughter. “You’re a dumbass.”
“You’re a prick,” I spit.
He ignores my death stare and backs out of the driveway once I’m settled. “Why weren’t you ready?”
Already questioning me. Not surprising.
If I say I slept in, he’ll suspect me farther. Brooks knows I never sleep in. My mind has been too loud for that since we were kids. There’s never been a morning in my life where I missed the sunrise.
I would tell him I slept in because I hopped in a cold shower to quit thinking about H, and I was only thinking about H because I got angry at Angel. Then I met the half-naked beauty in the hallway, and I ended up undone between her legs, but I got too much respect for Serenity to brag.
Plus, Brooks would either start lecturing or praising me. Regardless, I wouldn’t hear the end of his yapping.
I bounce around different lies in my head, and end on the easiest one. “Forgot to charge my phone.”
He cocks his eyebrow. “Why?”
He’s truly like the father I never had.
“I couldn’t sleep well last night. Bit of a rough day.”
It was rough, and Brooks is already aware, since he screamed at me on the phone for disappearing, and squawked that I’m no longer allowed to drive myself to rehab. In case I’m lying. Blah blah blah.
“Then I had to pick up Serenity this morning, didn’t sleep till five.”
He tilts his head. “I thought she wasn’t working last night.”
Shit. Forgot that Brooks and Angel are always in touch. There’s no doubt they were on the phone yesterday searching for me like I’m some elderly, scraggly dog.
“She picked up a shift.” Counterattack.
He smirks. “She had to get away from your ass.”
I give him a dirty look. Last night, I had to distance myself from her. I was mad, so was she, but she looked so pretty, yelling at me about being my wife, demanding I answer her questions. It was the second time I wanted to kiss her at the front entrance of her house. The second time I coiled, because if I ever hurt her, I’d never forgive myself. I knew if I gave in and kissed her, the urge to keep kissing her wouldn’t go away.
Screwed that one up too. Now I know what drives her crazy and how my name sounds when it rockets off her tongue. Now I wanna try harder at this, because she trusts me enough to not screw it all up.
“Did you apologize to her, Lakey?” Brooks bats his eyelashes at me.
I’m moments away from bashing his face in, but I don’t, because I catch him fully, and he looks tired. Probably cause of me. Punching him when he’s driving also isn’t my best idea.
“Yes.” Apologizing is an understatement. Issue is, I got no clue how she feels about last night.
His grin is petty. “Good job!”
I eye his random-ass expensive suit he doesn’t need to wear. “Do you want to die?”
His head angles to the left, and he shrugs. “Sometimes.”
Oh. Well, alright then.
The SUV rolls to a stop at a red light. We’re a block away from my next meeting, but my focus stays on my brother, and the growing tiredness in his eyes.
“So, are you two good?” he asks.
I’d say so. “Yup.”
We stay in silence for a few seconds, and that’s all it takes for Serenity’s smile to flow back to my mind. It’s been a long time since I could see myself bare and new. My surroundings have always been a murky river, but I feel something shift in me deep down. Maybe I don’t need to fight off being a better person.
I study my brother, the last sibling I have. “Hey, Brooks?”
His response is a mumble, holding his attention on the road, and keeping me safe like he has my whole life. Part of him does it for River. The rest of him does it for me.
“Don’t die on me, alright?”
His lips curve, but it’s not one of our sarcastic, or jokey, smiles. It’s that genuine one neither of us finds very often. “Sure Lakey.”
I punch his arm, and he punches me back.
***
Part of my rehab program is learning to trust myself, prove I’m committed to myself, and that will keep me on a sober path.
Easier said than done. It’s hard to be committed to myself when I got no clue who the person is in the mirror. If I have a tough day and drugs get waved in my face, I grab at it like I’m desperate, because I am. I’ve been desperate to forget about myself, and I got a drug problem because I’m insecure. I guess it’s good I can admit that now.
The paper plate on my palm gets weighed down as I pack a pound of free snacks onto it. I pretend to take a ton so I can bring them home, but I eat everything before I leave the room.
Marco pats me on my shoulder, giving me a nod. He’s a solid kid. I like him. He sits beside me at every meeting and tells me about his life. Today, I caught him looking for me when he showed up. Not sure why he’s deemed me his buddy, but it makes the circle part of these meetings a little easier.
“Doing okay, Marco?” I ask. “Seemed a little rough at the circle.”
He reaches around me to snag the last double-chocolate brownie. Bastard. My jaw falls right open, and I watch him pop the treat in his mouth, right before my eyes.
“Yeah, I had a crummy day,” he mumbles. “Mama got me a sponsor, though.”
He points to my plate. “You gonna eat those?”
I steer the plate away from him and cover the multiple brownies I stole. “Yes.”
He giggles like a little kid, grabs a strawberry tart and starts backing away, but I keep my plate close to my chest in case he runs back over.
“Don’t shag your sponsor Marco, we’re not allowed to do that!”
He keeps skipping off and yells back, “speaking from experience?”
Possibly. It was my first time in a program and I didn’t want Brooks to find out I’d relapsed. Not that it matters.
I swing my head and wander off to my regular corner, where I munch on all of my goods with minimal socializing. After meeting in the circle, we get a fifteen minute snack break. The point isn’t to snack, though. It’s for Rebecca to do damage control and consult with the attendees personally. She tries to talk to everyone, but usually someone sobs at the circle and takes up most of Rebecca’s one-on-one time.
Still uncertain about all this. I went to rehab twice, but witnessed no light at the edge of the tunnel. I thought all of it was pointless and stupid. I’d relapse, and that was just my life. There’s more to it now. More at stake. Strings and expectations usually make me bolt, but here in a corner, it’s like the heaviness on me flakes away. My mindset is different this time and I feel—okay.
I feel okay.
A poison-eating laugh hits my eardrums. “Lake!”
Sally flares her arm around in the air, and charges over to my corner. Screw this room for being a regular square. I can’t hide anywhere.
Sally bugs me every meeting. We were involved a few years back and I regret it more each time I see her. She’s not the nicest person, but she liked messing around with me, and I went along because she had access to good stuff.
I had a habit of using myself to stay loyal to my drugs.
“Hi Lake!”
She grabs an empty plastic chair, scrapes it across the floor, and drops into it right next to me. I keep eating my brownies, hoping she decides she’s hallucinating, and goes away.
There’s no chance Sally’s sober. She doesn’t take a fragment of this shit seriously, but she’s mandated to be here. Overheard Rebecca talking to her about a sign-off sheet for her PO. Sally’s too high to understand that fooling Rebecca and collecting signed slips of paper aren’t gonna matter at her next drug test.
She leans closer to me. “Watcha doing?”
I keep chewing. Just gotta keep eating my brownies. Under no circumstance can I glance anywhere in her direction. There’s nothing she could do that’ll make me look at her.
She slides her hand over my knee. “Wanna get out of here and I’ll buy us your favorite pills?”
My eyes snap to her.
A gross sensation sinks into my thigh where she’s touching. “No, Sally.” I scoot my chair an inch closer to the corner, successfully escaping her grip.
Sally's eyebrows scrunch, and then she grins. A big wide grin. “What? Are you taking this bullshit seriously?”
The bags under her eyes resemble craters. She smells of cigarette smoke and cat piss. To be honest, I have zero idea why I put my dick anywhere near her. Sometimes I wanna get high to forget about all the stuff I’ve done high.
I’m choosing to go quiet again. I bring a tiny fudge brownie between my lips and sink my teeth into it. My body is hugging the corner like it’ll somehow save me.
Sally doesn’t leave. She watches me, and Marco makes a face from across the room. I’m about to cry out for him to help me, but then the grin slips off of Sally’s face. “What the fuck is that?”
I twist my hand. “Thanks, Angel,” I whisper, eyeing down my wedding ring, the plain band I wear everywhere.
Partially because Serenity’s anxious we’ll run into her parents somewhere, and they’ll notice our missing rings, and it helps me crush encounters like this one with Sally. My biggest reason, though, is because I want to. Won’t be married to Serenity forever, but damn lucky to have her as my wife for now.
“I’m married.” I smile, and sense the chocolate stuck between my teeth.
Sally scoffs, her hand flies to her arm, and she scratches at it. “Does she know there’s more H in your body than blood?”
“Was.” I take my sweet ass time finishing my last brownie. “Blood’s all back, and I’m pretty sure she knows.”
She only saved me from it.
Sally’s chair flies back as she jumps to her toes. She huffs and puffs for a straight thirty seconds, just glaring at me and the crumbs on my face. Her nails continue to dig into her skin, right over the red mark where she clearly had a band tied to, not more than a few hours ago. Then she snaps back into laughter. “Well, good luck with that, Lake.” She pops a hand on her hip. “It won’t last.”
I swipe at my chin. “What’s that mean?”
“You’re no better than me, or anyone else here.”
I just wanted to eat my damn brownies. Why is this so complicated?
“You’ve never made it a month, and you won’t.” She swings her arms out beside her. “This is our world, Lake. Just give up and embrace it.”
She takes a step back and bumps into the chair. She screams, drawing a bunch of un-wanted attention my way, and it doesn’t help when she kicks the chair until it tumbles to the floor. “And tell your wife she’s a slut!”
I mean, that’s already been done. Not that Sally needs to know.
Rebecca sprints across the empty floor, taking Sally by the arm and attempts to calm her down. She makes a puzzled face at me, and all I do is shrug.
Sally’s speech still hovers in my head long after she stomps away, though, because she’s right. I haven’t made it a month. I’m close to doing so, but I question every damn hour if I’ll make it to tomorrow. My insecurities, all the damage from my childhood, led me to doing H. I was a broken kid, but I still am that fucked up kid. Healing insecurity is a long ass process, it’s easier said than done.
***
Brooks is being restrained. His back is slouching, but his shoulders are curled up at his ears. He keeps glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. He’s up to something.
Not in a good mood. I’m not close to any mood that’ll let me deal with Brooks’ bullshit. Just wanna go home and see the only person who’ll mellow me out, my fake wife, but after stopping at the bank, Brooks is now taking a longer way back to Serenity’s.
“So, Lake,” his voice sways in different tones. “I was thinking—”
“No. Not today.” I roll my neck.
His jaw ticks. “What?”
“I’m tired Brooks.”
He takes his hands off the wheel at a red light and falls back into his seat. “Just hear me out. I talked with the lawyer today.”
The tiredness floats the hell away from me, but my brother squints and keeps to himself, forcing me onto the edge of my seat.
“River’s terms are stricter than I hoped. Right now, your inheritance is in my name, but I can’t transfer it to you until you meet her terms.”
I scratch my temple. “Yeah. I’m sober. So I can get it.”
“River put in her will that you need to be sober for six months,” he confesses. “She thought it would be enough time for a turnaround, with a low risk of relapse.”
“Six full months?”
Brooks tucks in his bottom lip. “It’s in my name because she’s allowed me to skip some time for you, but I need to determine your life is fit, moving ahead.” He nudges his head. “There’s some stuff you need to do for me to fast track it.”
I try to stop my eye from twitching. “What do I need to do?”
River left me a bit of money—an inheritance—but that’s the least of my concerns. Sure, having some money saved would be great, but I want my sister’s words.
His face is full of sympathy, and he hunches himself closer to the wheel. He had that same face when he ate half the box of cookies when we were kids. The only box of cookies we had for months. River had to sneak it from the food bank.
I’m not gonna like this.
“I can’t tell you.” He looks ahead. “I’m not allowed, but I have an idea to start with.”
I say nothing. I’m not awake enough for this, and the hope I woke up with this morning is dwindling away. He’s about to say more crap I won’t like, and I know because he’s struggling between being eager and sympathetic. Damn bastard.
“I’m not happy about you visiting Mum. It’s worrying me.”
His hands return to the wheel and the car picks up speed. “You’ve been helping Serenity out, with the cleaning and cooking, but,” he pauses, his eyes stay on the road, making this conversation somewhat easier to handle. “I’m worried you still have too much time on your hands, and it’ll set you back.”
Set me back? I rub my tongue along the inside of my cheek. He thinks I’m gonna relapse.
My mouth opens, but I shut it. I got nothing to say that isn’t defensive. Plus, I’m still unsure where he’s heading with this.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you, buddy. I am trying to help.” He sighs. “So, I want you to come work with me.”
All hell freezes over.
My mind starts going. That’s a big commitment.
I could help Serenity better if I was contributing more than my allowance. Then I’ll ditch Brooks’ allowance and feel like a grown man. But is my ass capable of holding onto a job? I never was before. I don’t even have my business degree. I could end up fucking Brooks over.
He’s right. I haven’t relapsed, but I could. I can be in a great mood, and my brain urges me to ruin it, because shit doesn’t last forever. It never does.
“You’ve never made it a month, and you won’t. This is our world, Lake. Just give up and embrace it.”
“No.” I run my hand through my hair. “I don’t know, Brooks.”
The muscles in Brooks’ neck and forehead tense, but he takes a deep breath. “Alright. Just come in for a day. Try it out.” He flicks on his blinker. “I know part of the reason you fall behind is cause you hate letting others do you favors.”
I don’t, and I don’t get why people keep doing me favors.
“If you take the job, I’ll stop handing over your allowance.” He makes a bitch face. “You can make all your own money, tempting, isn’t it, Lakey?”
“You’re still giving me a job I didn’t earn,” I grumble.
Holding down a job is long term, living with Serenity is feeling long term. I married her. Sobriety is a lifelong commitment.
I’m not built for long term. I assumed nothing about my life would be permanent. Myself included, and if I fail again, I sure as hell don’t wanna drag anyone with me. But there’s River’s letters that started this whole thing for me. My brother who’s begging me to get my shit together and grow up, and Serenity, that angel. I could ease the worry stuck on her shoulders if I contributed more.
“All I ask is that you don’t go visit Ma again.” He turns another corner. “She isn’t your problem.”
I stare at him through my eyebrows. “She needed food, Brooks.”
“She screwed you up, Lake. They both did. You always relapse when they’re involved. You are not messing this shit up again, alright?”
The face he gives me hints at being threatening. He’d never want to keep River’s letters away from me, but he can only get them for me once I’m deep into sobriety. I know he wants to keep me that way.
“Alright,” I say. “I’ll try at that too. None of this is easy, y’know?”
He relaxes in his seat, and the SUV turns onto a street I vaguely recognize. I’m getting used to Angel’s neighborhood.
“No. It isn’t. Serenity’s making it easier though, isn’t she?”
“Yeah. She’s been a lot of help.” I shrug. “Still think you’re screwed up for the plan you made, but at least it’s working.”
He laughs. Really loud. We stare at each other, but he doesn’t quit laughing, so I reach for the safety handle in case he’s about to steer us into traffic.
“Not what I’m talking about.”
I make a disturbed face. “Huh?”
“There’s a window at the front of Serenity’s house.” He swipes his hand across the corner of his eye. “Someone walked out of her bedroom this morning, cheeks out, and scurried down the hallway.”
So much for hiding that secret. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
“No? Then why are you blushing?” Brooks asks, squishing his face at me.
I scoff. “I don’t blush.”
“Lakey. Your face is pinker than your ass.”
I try to keep a strong front, even though I’m fighting the urge to roll out of the car and sprint away. “You are so annoying.”
“Thanks buddy, so are you taking the job to spoil your wife, or should I tell you how my therapist appointment went today after I caught you fully naked?”
I hold up my hands. Guess the least I could do is try. “I’m taking the job, Brooks. Let’s relax.”
He pats my shoulder. “Great choice, Lakey.”