Chapter 16 #2
“But…I wanted to cook for you.” Her shoulders hunched, and she bit her bottom lip.
I knew, I knew I should reassure her or give her a hug at least, but I was just so tired.
And numb.
And, let’s be honest, fucking selfish too.
So fucking selfish.
I realized it but couldn’t drum up the energy to do anything about it.
I was just so fucking tired.
“Sure. Whatever. I gotta go meet Caden. We’re going to a meeting, then I’m getting coffee or whatever with him at his trailer at Paramount. I might not be back in time for dinner.”
“It’s only eleven,” Mom pointed out with raised eyebrows, clearly unimpressed with me.
I shrugged. “I might need to go to another meeting tonight. Look, I’m just trying to look after myself and not use again. Excuse me if my addiction is getting in the way of your mourning ritual or whatever. Sorry I’m such a fucking disappointment.”
Mom pursed her lips and gave me the same glare that had made me get out of bed every morning and finish high school.
But I was an adult now, and this was my fucking house.
“Later.”
So I left with my tail tucked between my legs, trying to look like my shit didn’t stink when we all knew better.
I was an ass.
I pulled my black Benz into the strip mall and parked next to the metallic blue Porsche Panamera. Only one person would drive a car like that to a neighborhood like this.
I got out of my car and strolled over to Caden’s. Scents from the Lebanese Grill warred with the gas pumps at the far end. I pulled open his passenger door before the disparate scents really got to me.
“Thanks for coming out, Cade.”
Hollywood’s go-to action actor gave me his trademark smirk. “It’s what I get paid the big bucks for.”
I laughed. Since it was an unpaid act of service, that wasn’t true at all.
But sponsoring other addicts made it easier to keep the demons at bay—most times.
I’d had a few sponsees myself over the years, and helping them stay sober usually helped me stay sober too.
But then these weren’t usual circumstances. “Right, right.”
“So tell me what’s going on.”
I let my head fall back against the headrest and closed my eyes. “You know what’s going on. Gio ODed Saturday night.”
“Yeah, man. I’m sorry. That’s fucked.” He sighed heavily. “Sorry to say that some addicts never break the cycle. When did he relapse?”
“I don’t know. I pulled away from everyone at the end of the tour.
They were partying pretty hard and the women…
” I swallowed heavily. “I couldn’t be around it.
Gio said it wasn’t like that—that he wasn’t using—and I chose to believe him.
Because it made it easier to distance myself from the whole scene. ”
“Okay, number one, I understand you’re feeling guilt, but his actions are not on you. He knew that you were there for him if he ever reached out. He knew the program. He knew the steps. He had a sponsor to reach out to, too. But he didn’t. And that’s on him; it’s not on you.”
“Ryker said he tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“See.”
“But Ryker’s not in the program. He doesn’t know what to say that would make the difference. He hasn’t been here.” I waved at the shitty strip mall we were parked in front of. Literally the bottom of the barrel—rock bottom.
“So what would’ve you said to him?”
“What?”
“To Gio. What were you going to tell him that would keep him from using again?”
“I, uh, I haven’t really thought about it.”
“So think about it now. What would you have told him? Let’s play the what-if game. But this time, play it all the way through. What would you have told him if you’d known then that he was using?”
“I don’t know. That he’s being an ass. That he’s throwing away his life to chase a high that’s never going to feel like enough. That he’ll lose his life if he keeps doing what he’s doing. That he needs to work the program and really put his all into staying sober.”
“Do you really think that’s all that different from whatever Ryker told him? Or that he’d be more receptive to hear it from you because you know what it’s like?”
I sighed. “No. Probably not.”
“So maybe you need to give yourself a break. In my experience, he would’ve probably listened less to you than he would’ve to Ryker.
Because he would’ve known exactly what you were going to say before you opened your mouth and he didn’t want to hear it.
He would’ve been closed off to you from the jump.
So give yourself a break. What he did is not on you. ”
“I guess.” I stared unseeingly out the window and sighed. “It’s easy to say that, but it’s hard as hell to believe it.”
“Yeah, I get it, man. I’ve lost friends to this shit too. And it never gets any easier.” Caden shifted in his seat. “So what’s this I’m hearing about you getting married?”
“Damn.” I winced. “I thought you, of all people would avoid the Babbler’s bullshit.”
Caden shrugged. “My assistant told me before I left. She keeps up to date on everything they post. Helps knowing when attention is coming your way.”
Sounded like his assistant was more thoughtful than mine. I grunted. “Yeah, I got married in Fiji the same day as Gio died. Or the day before? Hell if I understand all that time zone bullshit.”
“And what does she think about your sobriety?”
I bit my bottom lip much like Saylor always did, and then I softly laughed at myself. “She’s supportive. She didn’t order wine the entire time we were in Fiji out of respect of my sobriety. I didn’t even ask her to; she just did it.”
Caden hummed. “Sounds like just the kinda woman you need at your back to get through this shit.”
Maybe.
But it wasn’t easy to open up under normal circumstances, and these were anything but normal.
“Come on.” Caden clapped my shoulder. “Let’s go inside and get a bad cup of coffee.”