Chapter 11 #2
After three months, I’d almost convinced myself that what I’d felt at the wedding was just heightened emotions getting the better of me.
And maybe that’s what’s happening again right now.
But it’s as if my chest wants to split in half because it can’t possibly contain everything in my heart right now.
“I don’t deserve you,” I mumble with an embarrassed laugh, using my free hand to hastily wipe my damp cheeks. I delude myself thinking I can get away without him noticing, but instead, he brings my hand up to rest against his chest and scoots as close as the driver’s seat will allow him.
“I think a lot of people have tried to convince you that you don’t deserve much, Jesse,” he says softly.
“I know we’re on a journey and it’ll take time to earn your trust. But it’s blindingly obvious that you’ve worked really hard on your rehabilitation over the past few months.
I’m so proud of you, and I’m promising you right now that I want to be a safe space for you.
You’ve got your own room with me. I’ve already put you on my insurance so you can borrow the car whenever you need, although we’ll have to work out a schedule around my shifts.
The point is, I don’t want you to feel like you’re trapped here.
And if you feel comfortable, you can talk to me about whatever’s on your mind.
I know this transition is going to be a very fragile time in your recovery, so I need you to listen when I say I’ve got you. ”
The sob escapes my throat before I can stop it, and I rub my chest as I try and process what he’s saying. “What if I fuck up?” I whisper, voicing my worst fear out loud to him for the first time.
And the asshole just shrugs.
“Then you fuck up. This isn’t going to be perfect. But if I can see that you’re trying—really trying—you’re not going to get rid of me that easily. Okay?”
I sniff and drag my sleeve across my face, hoping I haven’t made too much of an embarrassing mess of myself. “Okay,” I utter.
“Come here.”
Despite the angle of the car seats, he’s still able to pull me into a firm bear hug that I feel all the way down to my toes. We stay like that until I stop shaking and I sheepishly lean back to look him in the eye.
“Thank you,” I tell him with a stronger voice than before. “I appreciate everything you’re doing more than I can possibly say. I’m going to work my ass off to stay sober and find a job and just generally get my shit together as soon as I can, I swear.”
“That sounds like a great plan,” he says with a beaming smile.
“But it’s going to take a while,” I say hastily before I lose my nerve. “With everything you’ve already done…giving me a home. You pay for all the bills and groceries. And now I can’t imagine how much I’ve increased your car insurance by. I’ll pay you back, I just have to—”
He cuts me off by waving his hands gently and shaking his head. “You’re not racking up a giant tab, so please don’t concern yourself with that a minute longer.”
“But—” I try and protest.
“Jesse,” he interrupts again. However, he still sounds patient.
Fond, even. “Adam is sending me a monthly allowance for you. He might not have been able to cover your rehab again, and he certainly doesn’t know all the facts right now.
But he has a great job, and he cares deeply about you.
So don’t stress about those costs. When you’ve found work, then we can talk about splitting the bills at a fair ratio.
But until then, that can just be one thing less to worry about, all right? ”
For several seconds, I just stare at him, and then down into my lap. I’m completely overwhelmed. This is the kind of break I’ve dreamed of being given for years. But I was never foolish enough to think it would actually happen. It seems too good to be true.
That’s Rico all over, though, isn’t it?
I rub my face and take a breath before offering him a weak smile. “You’re going to get sick of me saying this. But thank you. A million times. You really are my guardian angel.”
He looks bashful and lost for words. I hope I haven’t embarrassed him or crossed a line. So I push on with the other thing I have to say to him.
“We talked a lot at the center about how important reparations are,” I explain. “So, Rico? I’m really sorry I thought about stealing and selling your car. You’d shown me nothing but kindness, and that was a really shitty thing to do.”
He frowns at me. “I know that, Jesse. It’s water long under the bridge.”
“I’m aware,” I say, nodding. “But it’s just important for me to say the words to you.”
His smile is full of understanding. “In that case, thank you for apologizing. You’re completely forgiven.”
I swallow, appreciating how right my therapists were. There’s something transcendent about making amends.
“Right,” Rico says, slapping his thighs. “Enough loitering in the parking garage when we have a perfectly good apartment to loiter in. I don’t know what you were thinking of for the rest of the day, but I’ve got plenty of food in.”
He gets out of the car as he finishes talking, so I copy him, heading toward the trunk to retrieve my bags. “Um, loitering with lots of food sounds amazing,” I confess. “But I wouldn’t mind going for a run before that. Fitness has become a seriously important part of my routine.”
It doesn’t hurt that now I’m not pumping myself full of crap and working out on purpose, my body has already transformed from genetically lucky to actually fucking hot, if I do say so myself. My therapists assured me that a little vanity is a good thing if it’s going to motivate me to keep healthy.
Rico opens the trunk then looks at me before reaching for my luggage. “Would you like some company? I could show you one of my trails depending on how far you wanted to go.”
My heart catches in my throat. If he doesn’t stop being so kind and thoughtful, he might actually kill me.
“That would be awesome,” I tell him breathlessly.
“Then sofa surfing this evening?” he asks, actually sounding hopeful that I’d want to chill out with him. “I’ve been hanging back on watching some TV shows in case you wanted to binge them together. I’m off tomorrow as well, so I don’t have any pressure to get up in the morning.”
I’m determined not to cry again, even though I’ve still got some tears lingering on my lashes.
“That sounds really fun,” I tell him sincerely.
I don’t want to throw my routine out of the window by any means.
But I can start job hunting tomorrow. A night off vegging in front of the tube seems an appropriate way to quietly celebrate my first day out of rehab.
“Come on,” he says, hauling my bag out and locking his car. “Let’s get you settled in, then we can change and go running. Would 5K be enough or would you prefer longer?”
“No, that sounds perfect for today,” I assure him as I follow him into the complex. I’d normally take the stairs as his place is only on the fourth floor, but as he’s got my case and we’re shortly going to exercise, I don’t object as he guides us into the elevator.
We ride in comfortable silence and then make the brief walk down the corridor to his door. “I’ve got you a set of keys,” he says as he lets us inside, and my heart flips yet again. First the car insurance? And now he’s casually telling me I’ve already got my own keys?
The trust he’s putting in me is unwarranted, but I’m determined to earn it as soon as possible.
It’s strange coming back into a space that I already know inside and out, but this time trying to convince myself that it’s now ‘home.’ It’s difficult for me to believe I have somewhere safe like Rico said, but hopefully I’ll believe it soon enough.
The people I worked with at the center were very clear that if I feel stable, I’ll be much less likely to relapse.
But it’s not the walls of this apartment that are telling me that I’m secure.
It’s Rico.
He walks me to the spare room—officially my room now I guess—and hands me my bag. “I hope you like it. Adam helped me.”
I’m not sure what he means until I step across the threshold and stop, my jaw dropping.
He’s redecorated.
Before, this was a very pleasant neutral space that could have been a hotel room.
Now, the plain navy bedspread has been replaced with sunny yellow and white sheets.
The chest of drawers has been stained a richer, warmer brown, as have the nightstands either side of the bed.
There are new lamps, a free-standing mirror, and a gauzy curtain over the blinds that makes me think of the beach.
The whole room has a light and breezy feel to it which immediately makes me feel at ease.
But what really gets me are the framed photos of my brother and I, as well as a few of his kids, my niece and nephew. And above the headboard is a gorgeous canvas painting of a lemon-yellow Lamborghini Huracán.
“Adam said that was your favorite,” Rico says, presumably catching me staring at it in disbelief. “I found the print on sale, but if you don’t like it—”
“I love it,” I interrupt, spinning to look at him and not even caring that my eyes are welling up again. Because I’m just so fucking touched I can’t even right now. “I love all of it. Rico, this is…you didn’t have to do this. It’s perfect.”
He beams at me and gently touches my elbow. “Welcome home, Jesse,” he says, before ducking his head and leaving to give me some time alone.
I really do want to get changed and go for a run. But for a minute or two, I just stare at the room he’s made such an effort to make feel like mine.
“Home,” I murmur to myself, rubbing my chest again because my heart is still feeling like it might burst. This is overwhelming, but in a good way for once.
As I take in this room, it feels like love.
Nobody has ever made me feel so special, not even my own parents when I was a kid. Certainly not any of those Hollywood phonies who used to shower me with expensive gifts. What Rico has done here is priceless.
Everything he’s done and said today feels like love.
But that can’t be right, can it? He’s just being kind and thoughtful, like always. It would be foolish to imagine that he doesn’t just see me as a charity case. That he could possibly have…feelings…for me. Hoping for more is only going to break my heart.
I can’t stop myself from doing it anyway.