Chapter 39
39
MALCOM
T he last forty-eight hours have been brutal as my body starts to go through withdrawal. After taking me back to his place, Kolbi set me up in his guest room and told me I’d be staying with him until we decided what the next steps would be. He and the guys sat me down in his living room and waited for me to tell them everything. It took me two hours to get it all out—from the first time I used again back in the middle of March to how I had been taking three or four pills a day just to keep up. They wouldn’t let me sleep until I told them where it all was and then promised that they would be turning my apartment, truck, and the bar upside down to make sure I wasn’t hiding any that I hadn’t told them about. When Magnolia didn’t come home after a few hours, I asked Kolbi where she was.
“She’s, uhh, she’s staying with Bailey and Ophelia. They’re all over at Ophelia’s place.” Just hearing her name makes me want to lay down in the middle of the Ravenel Bridge and let morning traffic take me out like I deserve.
For the next two days my body begins to purge and detox all the shit I’d put into it over the last eight weeks. I sleep through most of the weekend, but when I’m awake, I feel every single ounce of amphetamine leaving my body. Everything hurts. I can’t stop sweating. I want to eat anything I can get my hands on and quickly feel like I’m going to puke once I do. And everything annoys the absolute fuck out of me. Once Monday morning rolls around, I think I’m going to lose my ever-loving mind. The desire to sneak out when no one is looking to go buy something that will take off the edge is strong, but I know I won’t get very far. Anytime I come out of my room, there is always someone around who has eyes on me. Whether it’s one of my friends or Kolbi’s ever present housekeeper, I never move more than half an inch without someone watching my every move.
Since I’m not allowed to leave the house or go anywhere while I’m detoxing, I have a lot of time to think. And most of that time is filled with thinking about how much I fucked up something that could have been really good. Losing Marshall has pulled me apart at the seams but as my brain starts to come out of the drug-induced haze I’ve hidden myself in, I realize that it isn’t the loss of him that broke me. It was my own incessant need to try and be perfect for everyone around me. It was my own self-sabotaging desire to never let anyone down and to live beyond their expectations. Just like I had when I was in school, I literally sunk my own battleship by being my own worst critic. Nothing I could do was enough and I had convinced myself that drugs were the answer to numbing that pain.
But to her, I’m enough.
And to my friends, I’m enough.
Even Marshall thought I was enough or else he wouldn’t have left me with Butcher and Block.
It isn’t that I’m not enough for them , it’s that I’m not enough for myself.
And getting to the point where I believe my best is enough is going to take time and help.
A knock at the door grabs my attention. When I open it, I’m greeted by a hardly five-foot Black woman with a friendly smile and the lingering scent of sugar and butter wafting from her apron.
“Mr. Vesey asked me to come see if you’re awake. Your friends are downstairs waiting for you, Mr. Kacee.” She nods politely and her smile warms. I wonder what she thinks of me. Of this whole situation. There were a few times I awoke from an almost comatose state with her dabbing a damp cloth along my forehead, trying to help me break the fever that had come after not using for more than twenty-four hours. I was too incoherent to process the words, but if my memories are correct, she would sing to me as she did.
“Thank you, Ms. Ruthie. But I would really rather you call me Malcolm.”
“Malcolm,” she hums as her cheeks inflate and push into her eyes. “I’m glad to see you’re doin’ better. We were worried about you.”
“I’m sorry to have worried you. That wasn’t right of me to do.” I grab the back of my neck and can’t bring myself to look at her.
“Your friends love you. And that girl, she loves you a whole lot.” My head snaps to her as my eyes go wide.
“There was a girl here?”
“Ohh, yes. All weekend. Slept on the couch, poor thing. Mr. Vesey tried to take her home so she could sleep in her own bed, but she refused. Made a big scene about needing to make sure you were alright.” The old woman raised a brow at me. “Come now, it’s time to go downstairs.”
“I’ll be right there.” Once she’s gone, I quickly throw on a fresh shirt and some shorts that had been left on top of the dresser at some point while I was asleep. My eyes cinch together as I move due to the dull ache I can feel throughout my body. It feels as if every muscle is seizing up, refusing to move. Pushing out a heavy breath through my lips, I pull my hair back and tie it into a bun before heading downstairs to meet my friends who are waiting on me. My heart ticks anxiously as I descend down the stairs, anticipating what Ophelia might say when she sees me. But as I reach the bottom and walk into the living room, I feel it fall through my stomach when I realize she isn’t part of the group of people waiting on me.
Sitting in the living room are the three guys who have been here with me before. Hank may have been part of the conversation we’re about to have over video call last time, calling us from some unknown location in the middle of somewhere we weren’t allowed to know, but he was there. Sitting next to him this time is Bailey who’s holding a cup of coffee in one hand. Her other hand rests on Hank’s knee and is running her fingers forwards and back along the top of his leg. Kolbi and Magnolia are sitting on the couch, his arm over her shoulder, and next to them is Conrad, looking stiff and uncomfortable just like always. When I enter the room, everyone stands and looks at me.
“Look who’s up and alive.” Kolbi takes a step towards me and shakes my hand. Such a Kolbi thing to do. “For a minute there I thought I was going to have to hire a nurse to come and watch you. You okay?”
I nod my head and squeeze his hand. “I will be.”
“You look like shit,” Conrad scolds.
“I feel like shit.”
“I think that’s a little deserved after what you did,” Hank adds, pursing his lips. Their disappointment isn’t lost on me and the urge to bolt is strong. But I stand my ground. I deserve much worse than this for what I did to them. This is tame compared to what they could be doing.
“Trust me, I know.” I look around the room and towards the kitchen to make sure I’m not missing her. “I thought…I thought Ms. Ruthie said Ophelia was here?”
Bailey’s lips wrap around her teeth and her eyes flit between Hank and my other friends. She tucks a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear and finally brings her eyes to me. “She left already. She didn’t want to be a deciding factor.”
“A deciding factor for what?” I look around at the people watching me as if they’re waiting for me to officially crack and fall into a million pieces. Each of them watches me carefully without speaking.
Kolbi, always the brave one, speaks first. “Let’s sit.”
Everyone takes their seats again and I find myself perched on an overstuffed ottoman in the center of the room. I’ve never had a true intervention before but I’m sure that this is what it feels like.
“We need to talk about what you’re going to do to get better, Malcolm,” Kolbi starts.
“I already know what I need to do to get better,” I reply matter of factly. I’d decided on it at some point earlier this morning when I woke up and it was still dark outside. It didn’t take me long to know what I want to do—what I need to do—even if it isn’t the easiest option.
“Oh,” Kolbi stops short, surprised. He glances around at the other people in the room who look as equally stunned as he did. “Well, what do you want to do?”
“I want to go to the rehab facility I went to before and go through the program. You know, the one I did…before.” My shoulders tense and suddenly my eyes are on my hands. I don’t look up until I feel a pair of soft hands resting on my shoulders. When I turn to look at them, it’s Magnolia who’s standing behind me. She has a gentle smile on her face that reminds me that these people are my friends, my chosen family, and I don’t need to feel ashamed about what I need. Even though I do. A lot.
“It worked before and I liked the people. They were good to me and they helped me get back on my feet. And meetings, I’ll start to go to those again too. I’ll have to find a new sponsor…”
“Oh, we’ve already got that figured out.” Hank flashes me a grin that makes me nervous. “We think you’ll like him.”
“You can worry about that once you come home though. We can call the facility today, see if they have space. You sure that’s what you want to do?” Kolbi confirms.
“ Want to?” I chuckle. “Not really, no. The thought of being gone for a month makes my skin itch. I want to put my head through a wall just thinking about starting the process over, but it’s what I need to do. I have some shit I need to work through and the only way to do that is to focus on myself for a bit. I just worry about the bar and everyone there and?—”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that either. We’ve already got it covered,” Bailey chirps and smiles proudly.
I look at everyone around the room and can’t believe how lucky I am to call these people my friends. After what I put them through and how I treated them, I’m surprised they want anything to do with me at all. But here they are, looking back at me with as much belief and support that they had in me before I got lost. My lips pull up as an overwhelming sense of appreciation for them all overtakes me. Without speaking, I stand from the ottoman and everyone stands with me, then, I walk around and give each and every one of them a hug.
“Okay, enough,” Conrad protests when I hold onto him for a few seconds longer than he appreciates.
“I think we should make that call,” I sigh, looking at Kolbi who gives me a nod of agreement.
Over the next hour, he and I sit together in his study and call the facility who helped me through my first round of getting sober. They told me that they can get me in tomorrow and even said they are looking forward to seeing me. While I’m not looking forward to seeing them, I am looking forward to how I’ll feel once my time with them is over. And that is what’s carrying me through.
The next day, my three friends offer to drive me to the clinic, which I gladly accept. Before making it out of the city, I ask to make one stop. There’s something I need to do, something I need to ask, before I leave. Pulling up to her building, anxiety ripples through my body as I look out the car window at the front door of her building.
“You want one of us to go with you?” Hank asks, turning around to look at me from the passenger seat.
“No, I’ll be fine.”
“You have twenty minutes before we come in after you,” Conrad notes with a raised brow.
“I won’t be long.” My hand pushes the car door open and I hop out. I can make my way to her place with my eyes closed but as I stand in front of her door, it’s like I’m trying to knock on the door of a stranger’s house. Finally, I muster up the willpower to raise my hand and knock. When she opens it, she takes a step back in surprise to find me standing there.
“What are you doing here?” Her eyes look swollen and her hair is fussed up into a bun on the top of her head. I half expected her to not be home, seeing as how it’s a Tuesday and she would normally be at the office. Now that she is standing in front of me, I’m going to have to say what I’ve rehearsed in my head about a hundred times now.
“I’m on my way to rehab. I’m going back to the facility I went to when I first got sober. They have this program, it’s thirty days where you pretty much sit in a circle and sing songs and talk about your feelings and shit but it works,” I blurt out.
She takes a deep breath and pulls her shoulders back. “I know.”
“You know?”
“Bailey…”
I nod my head. Of course.
“Why did you come here, Malcolm?” she asks again.
“I came to tell you something. Well, more like to ask you something.” My heart is pounding so hard in my chest I can hear it in my ears. When she doesn’t say anything, I continue. Taking a step towards her, I slip the silver-banded ring off my hand that I haven’t taken off since receiving it, and hold it out towards her.
“Can you hang onto this for me? Until I get back?” Marshall’s ring is poised between my first two fingers and thumb, hovering between us. Her arms are crossed in front of her as she looks at the ring and back to me. “Please?”
“Why?” She swallows hard as her eyebrows push together.
“Because it’s a promise, from me. To come back for it. To come back for you, if you’ll have me, that is. I know I fucked up, Ophelia, but I love you. I wish I could love you as the man I am now, but I can’t. I’m broken, something in me is broken, and I need to work to fix it before I can be the man you need me to be. So, please, take this as a promise from me that I will get better. Not just for you, but also for me. For us. I don’t want it back until you know that I can be the man you need me to be for you.” I raise the ring a little higher and hold my breath. She stares at it as if it’s a grenade ready to go off, but then snatches it from my hands and tucks it safely into her fist.
“Thank you, little fox,” I nearly whisper. When a single tear drips down her cheek, I risk taking another step closer to her. When she doesn’t move away, I rest my hand on her cheek and wipe the tear away. Her eyes close at my touch and I take it as permission to lean in and press my lips to her forehead. With my fingers wrapped around her neck, I can feel her pulse beat faster as my lips make contact but she doesn’t uncross her arms and pull me into her.
Always so strong, my girl.
“I promise, I’ll be back for it,” I whisper with our foreheads now touching. She nods just enough for me to feel and takes a dismissive step away from me which I take as my cue to leave. Once I’m out in the hallway, she carefully closes her front door and I wait until I hear the lock click. Once it does, I head back to my friends who are waiting so they can take me to the place that’s going to help me get better. Not just for her, but for me.
For us.