CHAPTER SEVEN
Julian got up after a restless night. Another restless night. He’d known that he was using alcohol to help him fall asleep, but it had apparently also helped to keep him knocked out for the night.
He hadn’t had a restful night since arriving at the treatment center. Each morning, when his alarm went off to get him up for the day, he had to drag himself out of bed.
Would it ever get better?
After a shower, he made his way to the dining room. The smell of food and the sound of muted conversation mixing with the clink of silverware on dishes greeted him well before he reached the door.
As Julian stepped into the doorway, his gaze swept the room, taking in the now familiar faces, along with a couple of new ones.
Though he’d moved in the same circle as a couple of the people currently at the center, he hadn’t had extensive contact with them. He’d been surprised at some of the people there, ones he’d recognized but never met. It was likely that they were surprised to see him there as well.
Hearing the stories from some of them in the group therapy had been revealing. So many of them had been like him, hiding personal problems, relationship issues, and family stresses behind smiles, all while downing drink after drink or indulging in their drug of choice.
Of everyone there, he’d found himself spending the most time with a man named Elijah Sutcliffe. He was the son of a wealthy, well-known televangelist, and was yet another person who had seemed out of place in an alcohol and drug treatment center.
Julian spotted Elijah sitting at a table alone, so he made his way over to him and took one of the empty seats.
Elijah looked up from his plate and gave him a nod. “Morning.”
"Morning," Julian said, reaching for the coffee carafe that sat at the center of the table.
He poured himself a cup of coffee, which was a far better brew than he would have expected in a place like that. Julian had assumed rehab would mean terrible food and bitter coffee, but the Crystal Haven Wellness Center obviously catered to a clientele accustomed to luxury.
"Sleep any better?" Julian asked, reaching for a croissant from the basket in front of them.
Elijah shook his head. "Not really. You?"
"Same." Julian buttered his croissant methodically. "Two weeks in and I still feel like I've been hit by a truck every morning."
“The biggest truck in the world,” Elijah agreed.
One of the servers approached the table with a plate, which he set in front of Elijah. The server then turned to Julian.
“Breakfast today is Eggs Benedict with roasted asparagus, sourdough toast, and an assortment of fresh fruit.”
His stomach was still not happy with the torture it had gone through the previous week, but he needed to eat something. “Sounds good.”
Just like the coffee, he couldn’t really complain about the food they were served at the center either. It was as good as anything Mrs. Stevens made.
He savored his coffee while he waited for his meal to arrive. When the server put the plate down on the table in front of him, Julian thanked him, then focused on his food.
The eggs were perfectly poached, and Julian wondered if he could manage them without his stomach revolting. He'd lost weight since arriving at the center—his clothes hung a bit looser now, though he suspected that that wasn't entirely a bad thing.
"Looks like we’re getting some mail today," Elijah commented, gesturing with his fork toward the staff member approaching their table.
Julian looked up to see Marcus walking toward them with some envelopes in hand. His heart quickened slightly. Had Kiara written back?
"Mr. Burke," Marcus said, extending two envelopes to him. "These came for you this morning."
He held out the third one to Elijah. “And there’s one for you too, Mr. Sutcliffe.”
Julian looked down at his envelopes, noting the return address of the estate on both. One was written in Duncan’s familiar handwriting. The other was addressed in a feminine script. The name on the return address was K. Burke, which could only be from Kiara.
Julian wanted to rip hers open and read it right away, but he set it aside to read in his room. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to read Duncan’s at all.
Elijah had opened his envelope and pulled out the contents. Smiling, he said, “It’s from my sister and my mom. They must have had a letter-writing party.”
After a brief hesitation, Julian decided to go ahead and open the one from Duncan. It was several sheets of paper, but only one had his dad’s writing on it.
Dear Julian,
I hope you are doing well. Though Kiara didn’t share the contents of the letter you sent her, she did assure me that you were okay. Thank you for writing to her.
I know you might view your time at rehab as a punishment, but I need you to know that I arranged it out of love. It pained me greatly to see you so unhappy and drowning your emotions in alcohol. I was scared I was going to lose you completely.
My hope is that you will find some peace, and maybe even some joy once alcohol is no longer dominating your life. But don’t do rehab just for me. Do it for yourself and for your baby.
I’m including some emails I’ve received from Sean about FemPulse that I thought you’d like to read.
Take care of yourself, son.
Julian stared at the words, finding they blurred slightly before he blinked rapidly to clear his vision. His emotions since he’d stopped drinking were so much nearer the surface. Or maybe he was just feeling them more deeply now that he didn’t have work and alcohol to numb them.
“Everything okay?” Elijah asked, concern in his voice.
Julian cleared his throat as he looked up at the man. “Yeah. It’s a letter from my dad. We’re not close.
Elijah gave a nod. “Yeah. I’m not close to my dad either.”
“I’ve been so mad at him for essentially forcing me to come here,” Julian said, then lifted the letter. “But he told me that he did it because he didn’t want to lose me.”
“You’re fortunate,” Elijah said. “My dad probably wishes I’d kicked the bucket.”
“What?” Julian didn’t know a lot about Christians, but he was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to wish their children dead.
“I’ve lived behind the curtain,” Elijah said. “I’ve seen what the world hasn’t, and it’s not pretty. The man people see behind the pulpit is not the man we saw in our home. I struggled with the disparity and often questioned my dad about it. Usually to my detriment.”
Julian wasn’t sure how to respond, but he could only imagine how that might impact someone. “Did someone in your family encourage you to come here?”
“My sister and my mom. My mom is wealthy in her own right because of her family, and she’s paying for me to detox.”
“So she cares about you,” Julian stated.
Elijah nodded. “She and Miriam both do. My other brothers, however, are very much like my dad.”
It was more than Elijah had shared previously, at least in Julian’s presence.
“Who’s your other letter from?” Elijah asked, gesturing to the cream-colored envelope that lay next to his plate.
“My… wife,” Julian said.
Elijah’s brows rose. “You’re married?”
“Yes.” He paused before adding, “And she’s pregnant.”
"Congratulations," Elijah said, though his tone held a note of caution. "Recent marriage?"
Julian nodded, running his thumb along the sealed edge of the envelope. "Very. Right before I came here, actually."
He’d written to Kiara on impulse, not really expecting a response. Now that he had one, he wasn't sure he was ready to read it.
"You don't seem thrilled," Elijah observed, pushing his half-eaten breakfast away.
Julian sighed. "It's complicated." That was the understatement of the century.
“It seems like relationships usually are.”
“Do you have a significant other?”
Sadness filled Elijah’s face. “Yes. Well, I had a significant other. She broke up with me not long before I came here.”
“What was she like?” Julian asked, sensing the man’s heartache went deep. He’d never loved any woman so much that ending things had hurt him the way Elijah appeared to be hurting.
Some of the sadness on his face faded into contemplation and affection.
"She is… incredible. Smart, caring, passionate about her faith.
She works at a nonprofit that helps kids in trouble find stability.
" Elijah's voice grew softer, more distant.
"Her name is Grace. She has a laugh that could light up a room, you know?
And she saw through all the pretense, all the family name stuff. She saw me."
Julian felt a pang in his chest, something he couldn't quite identify. He'd never spoken about a woman the way Elijah spoke about Grace. The closest he'd come to that kind of devotion was to his work.
"What happened?" Julian asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.
"I happened." Elijah's jaw tightened. "I was drinking too much, disappearing for days at a time. She tried to help, tried to get me to see that I had value, despite what my dad might say. I wanted her type of faith, but I just couldn’t get past the twisted beliefs I grew up with.”
“She sounds like a wonderful woman.”
“She is,” Elijah said. “And stupid me took her for granted, believing her love for me would be enough that she’d still stick around, even with me acting the way I did.
But since I’ve been here, I’ve realized that it was my love that wasn’t strong enough.
I loved the numbness alcohol gave me more than I loved her.
Because if I had loved her like I should have, I would have gotten help when she begged me to. ”
“You’re here now,” Julian said. “That has to count for something.”
“Maybe,” Elijah said with a shrug. “But I don’t expect her to wait. She deserves better than me.”
“Maybe better than you in your previous state,” Julian said, though he wasn’t sure that was the right thing to say. “But you’re trying now. You’re getting help, right?”
“Yes. I’ve even requested a Christian counselor,” Elijah said. “I need someone who understands why faith plays such a big role in my struggles.”