Chapter 1
Kaden
Sleep is ripped from me by the bedroom door slamming open, followed by Jason’s deep, thundering voice in my ear.
“It’s time to wake the fuck up!”
Not a minute later, the curtains are thrown open with a loud clang, and a blast of bright light cuts through the stuffy darkened room, making me instantly recoil.
I grab the duvet and pull it over my head, trying to block out as much light and noise, but Jason yanks it off me in one swift, ruthless movement.
“Nope, get up! You’re not staying in bed all day again.”
I groan in irritation, wishing my best friend would just disappear into thin air and leave me the hell alone.
“I’m tired, Jase.”
“You’re not tired. You’re hungover as usual.
” He kicks an empty bottle of bourbon lying on the floor to emphasise his point and I hear it roll under the bed, the sound grating on my senses like nails to a chalkboard.
“This room is a fucking pigsty. And you’re starting to smell like a seedy pub in the middle of a highway.
Get up, or I’m getting Jake in here to jump on your head. ..with his football cleats on.”
“Please don’t. My head already feels like a hammer is pounding inside it,” I grumble, my eyes squinting from the blinding light as I glance up at him.
“Well, that’ll teach you to stop drinking so much. Now, get up, get dressed and meet us downstairs. I’m not going to say it twice.”
He snatches a fallen pillow off the floor and wacks it on my face, hard, before strolling out of the room, leaving me alone to pull myself together. Arsehole!
With a heavy sigh, I throw the pillow back on to the ground and reach for my phone on the bedside table. I release an exasperated groan when I see that it’s just past two in the afternoon.
I’ve slept half the day away again. Shit!
I bury my face in my pillow, as if I can somehow hide from the shame and guilt that have become my daily companions.
This is my existence now—a hollow life steeped in self-destruction and misery. And the voice that echoes in the back of my mind never fails to remind me that it’s exactly the life I deserve.
After giving myself a few minutes of self-pity, I slowly sit up against the bedhead, my gaze sweeping across the now quiet room. Empty bottles and beer cans are strewn across the floor and crowd the bedside tables, a silent reminder of just how far I’ve fallen.
How I’ve managed to live like this for the past few months and still wake up breathing is beyond me.
It’s no wonder Jason’s growing tired of me hiding away in here, shut off from the world from day to night. I’m practically wasting away in his guest room with no real desire to change the way I’m living. I’ve officially become a pathetic and useless waste of space.
My head feels as though a drill is chipping away at my skull with sharp, agonising blows.
I rub at my temples, trying to ease some of the pressure and stop the fresh wave of nausea rolling through my gut.
But it’s useless. My throat is parched, and my tongue is rough as sandpaper, making even swallowing unbearably difficult.
I stare down at my bare torso, pale and clammy in the afternoon light, a grim reminder that I haven’t stepped outside in days, maybe even weeks.
I’m not sure anymore. Time has seemed to blur into nothing as of late.
Even Jason says I’m starting to look like the walking dead.
Hell, I feel like one too—just an empty, sad shell of a person.
“Kaden!” The deep sound of my name echoes from downstairs.
I let out a frustrated groan, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Yeah, just a sec!” I shout back, forcing my slow and sluggish body out of bed.
After grabbing a shirt and a pair of track pants from the drawer and throwing them on, I head downstairs, careful not to stare too long into the full-length mirror. The last thing I need is to see the poor excuse of a man staring back at me.
“He’s alive!” Jason says mockingly as soon as I enter the kitchen.
His six-year-old son, Jake, glances at me from where he’s sitting at the island counter, munching on a sandwich.
“Hi, Un-cool Kaven. Want a san-wich?” he mumbles with a mouth full of food.
“Sure, why not?” I reply, my voice rough and gravelly from the dryness coating my throat. I take a seat beside him just as Jason slides a plate of grilled ham and cheese sandwich, and a cup of coffee towards me.
“Eat up,” he orders. “It’ll help soak up some of that alcohol drowning your system.”
I shoot a quick look at Jake, feeling a twinge of shame for my lack of control. But thankfully, he’s too absorbed in whatever game he’s playing on his tablet.
“Thanks. Do you have any Advil by any chance?”
He spins around, and scrambles through one of the top cabinets, and pulls out a packet of ibuprofen, flinging it my way. I catch it just before it lands on my sandwich and immediately pop two pills, chasing them down with a gulp of coffee.
All the while, I can feel Jason’s eyes on me—watching, scrutinising, wearing that familiar look of disappointment I often see after I’ve been on a bender.
Needing something else to focus on other than his judgemental glare, I swing my attention to his son. “What you playing there, bud?” I ask Jake, trying to lighten the tension in the room.
“It’s a reading app for school. Helps me to read better.”
“That so?”
He nods and slides the tablet towards me. “Yeah. I get these cool rewards everytime I get something right.”
“That is pretty cool. Sounds a lot more fun than when I was learning to read at school.” I flick Jason a look that says ‘remember those days’, but he just leans back against the kitchen sink, arms crossed, stiff and exuding the same stoic authority that once made him every inch the cop he used to be.
“If you’re done with your lunch, Jake, you can finish your homework in your room. I need to speak to Uncle Kaden.”
Here we go. I knew this was coming.
Jake wastes no time grabbing his tablet and rushing out of the kitchen, heading straight for his room as if he can sense the tension in the air and wants to escape as quickly as possible.
My gaze drifts back to Jason, who still has his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable.
He’s been my best friend since the early years of our childhood, my brother not by blood but by the strong bond we’ve built over the years.
We’ve been through so much together that I can’t imagine what I’d do if I ever lost him as a friend.
It would be the final straw for me, that’s for sure.
I’ve already lost so many people as of late, and to lose him too would probably destroy what’s left of me.
“What are you up to today?” I ask, being the first to break the uncomfortable silence.
“Jake, Mila and I are going to see Vivid tonight. You’re welcome to join us.”
A sarcastic laugh burst from me. “Yeah, I don’t think Mila will be too keen on that idea.” I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. You guys have fun. I prefer to stay at home in this cold anyway.”
“She knows you’re going through a lot right now. I’m sure she won’t mind. Getting out of the house will do you some good.”
As always, he’s probably right. I’ve been holed up in my room for so long, I can’t even remember the last time I left the house for some fresh air.
I decided to take some time off work hoping to recover from everything that happened, but all I’ve accomplished is a drinking problem and a complete loss of drive.
With my break almost over, I have no choice but to go back to work in a far worse state than when I left. And it really fucking sucks.
“I was thinking of hitting the gym instead. It’s been a while, and a good workout will help sweat the alcohol out of my system at the same time.”
The lie slides out of my mouth as easily as breathing. If I were honest, once they leave, I’ll be back in the garage, raiding the fridge for more liquor and drinking until I pass out on my bed, just like I have been these past three months.
“Do you think I’m an idiot?” he says, his tone sharp and stern. “You’re not really going to the gym, are you?”
“I am. I—”
“Man, what the fuck are you doing?” He cuts me off mid-sentence.
I frown, slightly thrown by his tone. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what are you doing with yourself? With your life? What are you actually doing to make things better? Because right now, I don’t even think you’re trying.”
I bow my head, hoping he doesn’t notice the shame I’m currently feeling.
“I’m just in a really bad place right now, Jase. It’s not that I’m not trying, I just don’t know how to deal with the pain.” I shrug my shoulders, the motion weak and defeated. “Honestly, some days I wonder why I even bother getting up at all, when there’s nothing left to look forward to.”
Jason’s expression softens at my words, concern quickly taking over his features.
“I think it’s time you saw someone. Get some real help.
It’s clear you’re struggling, Kaden. All you’re doing is surviving each day instead of actually living.
If you’re stuck and don’t know how to move forward, then let’s find someone who can help you.
I hate seeing you like this. I hate Jake seeing you like this. ”
“I hate feeling like this,” I admit quietly. “It’s why I drink. The alcohol dulls the pain, and keeps me from slipping any further into a dark hole. It’s the only thing that makes me feel numb to everything lately.”
“But it’s also destroying your life,” he says sharply. “If you keep this up much longer, it’s not just going to ruin you—it’s going to eventually kill you.”
He reaches over the counter, gathering Jake’s dirty dishes and rinses them in the sink before loading them into the dishwasher. I watch him move through the space with ease as his words strike me deep in the chest.
“It’s been three months, Kaden. I’m sorry you’ve taken hit after hit—first with Lucia’s betrayal, then Arianna, and now with Skylar’s engagement.
But that doesn’t mean you just give up. This is your chance to start over, to make peace with the past so you can finally focus on a new future.
Because whether you believe it or not, Kaden, you still have one.
” He speaks with conviction, like he always does when he’s trying to prove a point, and for a few seconds, I almost believe him—almost.
“Don’t waste it by lying passed out drunk on my guest bed, day in and day out,” he continues. “You said you wanted to change for the better, to right all your wrongs. Well, here’s your chance to start fresh.”
“It’s easier said than done, Jase. How does one even know where to begin?”
“Start by getting some professional help—therapy, counselling, support groups, anything. The choice is yours.”
I brace my elbows on the island counter, pressing my fingers to my temples as I turn the decision over in my mind.
It isn’t really a difficult choice. I know I need help, desperately, and fast. My life has been spiralling out of control, and every day I feel myself slipping further away.
That alone should be enough to make me act.
I’ve already let too many people down, myself included.
With a deep breath, I glance back at my concerned friend. Jason is right—he always is. I need to reach out to someone. I need to start making changes. Before it’s too late.
“Okay,” I nod slowly, “I’ll do it. I’ll call someone.”
Jason gives a small nod. “Good,” he says firmly.
“It’ll be good for you, you know. You’re a fighter, you always have been.
You’ve done this once; you can do it again.
” He leans forward, resting his forearms on the counter as his gaze holds mine.
“I’ve seen you fight your way through some of the worst moments of your life, and you always managed to bounce back.
Even if the battle’s harder this time, I know you’ll get through it. And I’ll be here to make sure you do.”
“Thanks for always believing in me,” I say, my voice full of sincerity. “I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will. You’ve got a little boy who looks up to you.” He nods towards the stairs where Jake disappeared moments ago. “Please don’t let him down. We’re all counting on you to stick around for a long time.”
I offer him a small smile and reach for my now-cold grilled sandwich, my appetite slowly, tentatively returning. “I’ll try. I promise,” I say before taking a generous bite.
I’m tired of being a letdown—of feeling like a complete failure. I don’t want to be that person anymore. It’s brought me nothing but misery and emptiness. I want to do better. I want to make Jason proud and be a good role model for his son.
My best friend has stood by me through everything, even when so many others have walked away, and for good reason. I owe it to him to change, to be a worthy friend and a better person overall.
I know the road ahead won’t be easy, and I’ll likely continue to disappoint some people along the way, but there’s no other option. No other way forward.
And yet, for the first time in months, I feel a small spark of hope—one I thought was long gone—stirring inside me. It’s subtle and fragile, but still very much alive.