"You ever want to use?"
"Sometimes. But it's a passing impulse. The ugly consequences are too fresh." I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. "This, you leaving, whatever we should call it. This has hurt more than anything has in a long time. But I haven't even looked at a bottle. I don't want to be numb anymore. I get it if you don't believe me, if you can't trust me, but I really, really don't want that."
He stares into my eyes.
"Do you believe me?"
"I want to."
"Do you think… I, uh, I wanted to tell you, Walker. I did. But the only person I'd told dropped me as soon as she found out. And being with you, feeling normal, it was everything."
"Yeah, it was."
"After I saw your sister high… you hate her, don't you?"
"Part of me does."
"Is she really sober?"
"Seems that way."
"That's great. Really." I stare back at him. "Would you have left if I told you that night we found your sister?"
"Probably."
"Now?"
"I don't know."
"Oh." I let my eyelids flutter together. I lean into his touch. "I… I think I'm in love with you."
"Iris."
"You don't have to say anything. Actually, don't. Not until you're sure you want to do this. Because I don't want to know you love me. Not if you're going to leave."
"Okay." He presses his palm into my lower back and pulls my body into his.
"Do you hate me?"
His lips brush my ear. "No."
"Think I'm pathetic?"
"You're strong, overcoming all that."
"Yeah?" I blink back a tear. I need his words and his touch and his understanding.
But this might be it.
This might be the last time we're this close.
"Yeah." He presses his lips to my cheek.
"Do you want to be with me?"
"I need more time to figure that out."
"Okay. How much?"
His laugh is sad. "I don't know."
That's fair. But—"I haven't decided on my internship."
"Still?"
"Yeah. I know. I'd rather be here. But if there isn't an us, if you don't want to be with me, then I can't be here. Not for a while."
He nods.
"So, uh, I have finals. And then I have to answer."
He brushes a hair behind my ear. "You're nervous."
"You're deciding if you want to be with me."
"True."
"Which way are you leaning?"
"I don't know, sweetness. My head is a fucking mess."
Chapter Forty-Four
Walker
I step into the cozy meeting room. Nod a sorry to the guy at the podium. Take a seat on one of the scratchy folding chairs in the back.
This is an open meeting. Mom assured me that friends and family are welcome. She offered to come with me. She came close to insisting.
But I have to do this alone.
Whatever happens with me and Iris, I need to make things right with my sister.
All right, I'm hoping that fixing this will fix my head. That it will reconcile those two halves of me—the I want Iris more than I want anything and the how will I ever trust her again?
It's worth a shot.
The guy keeps spinning his story of hitting rock bottom. How he missed an important meeting because he was too high. How it led to this ugly spiral. There's hurt in his voice. But that's not what has my attention.
It's the strange pride. He's glad shit got that bad. He's glad he almost lost everything.
It was the only way.
He steps down. Someone else steps up. A meeting leader. Something like that. I went to a few of these with Bree the first time she got sober. After her first relapse, I did everything I could to stop giving a shit.
Not that any of it worked.
He steps down. Points to someone in the crowd.
To Bree.
She stands and moves to the podium. Turns to face the room. Her eyes catch mine. They fill with concern.
I smile.
She smiles back. Mouths thank you.
I mouth don't mention it.
She looks to the room. "Hi. I'm Sabrina. And I'm an addict. Most of you know me. I'm here every week. It's been a tough two and a half months. I've been tempted. The other night, I went to the movies with a few friends. There was a bar at the theater. They didn't know I was sober, and I wasn't in the mood to talk about it. I kept looking at the Patron, thinking of how smooth it would taste, how easy it would be to forget that I'd totally fucked-up my brother's life. But I sat with the urge. I felt it. Then I felt it pass. It… It was okay. I wanted it, but I didn't need it." She nods to the room. "Thank you."
She moves back to her seat.
That same guy moves up to the podium, thanks her for speaking, invites someone else.
It goes like that for a while. Everyone spills their guts. Sometimes it's something happy. Pride over hitting a milestone. Sometimes it's a tragic tale of rock bottom. Sometimes it's something small. A slip or an almost slip.
Sometimes it's huge. The forgiveness of a loved one.
A life pieced back together.
The sense everything is going to be okay.
When the meeting clears out, I wait for Bree in the back of the room. She's different here. There's no heavy burden on her shoulders. It's like when we were kids.
She's happy. She's wise. She's looking forward to her future.
She finishes talking to a girl about her age then makes her way to me.
Her steps slow. She presses her lips together. "I never thought I'd see you here again."
"Me either."
Her voice is sincere. "Is everything okay with Iris?"
"Maybe. That's not why I'm here. At least not the main reason." I run my hand through my hair. This is not my strong suit. But I need to do it. "I'm sorry, Bree. I've been an ass to you."
"I deserved it."
"Maybe. But you were right. I wasn't gonna forgive you. Or myself. I was sure you'd keep fucking up. That can't have helped."
"I… I don't know what to say."
"I'm glad you're doing well. It means the fucking world to me."
Any nervousness falls from her expression. Her lips press into a smile. Her eyes fill with relief. "Really?"
"Yeah." I pull my sister into a hug.
She squeezes back. "Does this mean you're coming to Thanksgiving?"
"I think so."
"And Sunday dinners?"
I laugh as I step backward. "Maybe."
"Mom will be over the moon."
"I only said maybe."
Her smile spreads over her cheeks. "You said it like a yes."
I smile too. I want that. I want things to be okay with us. With my parents.
She takes in my expression. "No offense, but you look miserable."
"I am."
"We have coffee. Good coffee. Most people here drink a ton of it. Or smoke. Or both." She moves closer to the table. Grabs a paper cup and fills it with java. "You still take it black?"