Look After Me (8 page)

“A lot of people feel that OCD behavior soon after rehab, especially after a close relapse. It’s almost like a near death experience, just without the near death dramatics. People have a new appreciation for life, and with that they want to scrub away at the bad essence, almost like a cleansing ritual. It’s absolutely normal. Go for a shower. We can talk once your head is a little clearer.”

I spend twenty solid minutes scrubbing myself clean under the hot, steaming water until my fingertips are wrinkled to prunes. I dry myself off, then change into a pair of baggy lounge pants and a t-shirt. I walk barefoot into the open living room when I find Addison in the kitchen, making a pot of tea.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she says with a smile, pouring the tea into cups. I shake my head as I sit down on one of the bar stools, leaning my arms against the counter. “No, make yourself at home.”

“How are you feeling after your shower?”

“Surprisingly better. I’m still angry with myself for almost relapsing though.”

“But you didn’t relapse. You should be proud of yourself. Not many people could have found the courage to flush it down the toilet like you did. Statistics say relapses mostly happen within the first couple of months after recovery, especially when met with the temptation soon after. Most people in that situation would’ve let their cravings win, but you didn’t, and that in itself is a huge achievement. It tells me you’re stronger than you think you are.” She pours milk in both teas. She passes me a cup, and I cradle the mug in my hands, feeling the scalding heat against my fingers.

“I don’t know about that.”

Addison sits beside me, blowing gently on the hot tea before taking a small sip.

“I was seconds away from taking it. If it weren’t for the picture of my daughter, reminding me of what I had to lose, I would have relapsed for sure. And then I would have been back at the beginning, hooked on the one thing I don’t want to be hooked on.”

Placing the mug on the counter, Addison turns to face me. “You need to stop focusing on the ‘could haves’ and focus on what
did
happen. Even if you had relapsed—which you didn’t—it wouldn’t have been the end of the world. It would have just meant having to work a little harder on your recovery.”

I look down at my tea, not particularly agreeing with her words. “To me, it would have been. I’m used to being strong and dependable. I’m not used to feeling weak. But it seems the moment I left the Army the weakness took over my life, and I’ve reverted back to my seventeen-year-old self. Hating life and everything around it, with my only escape being a bag of white powder.”

“But that’s the thing—you’re not weak and today you proved that. Yes, you had a momentary struggle after being faced with cocaine for the first time in months but you’re only human. It’s normal to find yourself drawn to your choice of poison after only a short time of being sober. But like I just said, you rose above it. You fought through your cravings and now you’re sitting here drinking tea with me and looking relatively calm for somebody who almost had a relapse not even forty-five minutes ago.”

I smile while taking another sip of my tea. “That’s because you’ve turned me into a girl by drinking tea—which, by the way, tastes pretty incredible.” I take another sip just to prove my point.

“After my history with drugs, I found a new addiction in tea, and so I know how to make it just right. And if I’m not mistaken, you’re the one who has the teapot, not me.”

“You’ve made a valid point, but it’s actually my sister’s. She loves tea and likes things to be kept as traditional as possible. Which means if you ever make her tea from a standard tea bag, she’ll kick your ass to the curb.” Addison gives a hearty laugh, her dimples sinking adorably into her cheeks and surprisingly it gives me a soothing sensation along the edge of my spine. It’s a little unnerving to say the least, but I push it to the back of my mind.

“A girl after my own heart.” She muses for a moment before her warm hazel eyes turn serious. “How have you felt since you left rehab?”

I’m quiet for a moment as I gather my thoughts, trying to memorize every single feeling I’ve felt for the past two weeks. I’ve felt angry, depressed, melancholy, hurt, impassive, bitter, and that’s only to name a few. I’ve turned into a man I barely recognize.

“Angry most of the time. I spent three months isolated from the reality of my life, and the betrayal my life held. The bitter pain was always there, but it was easier to deal with it when I didn’t have to deal with it, you know?”

Addison smiles with a nod of understanding.

“But then the first day I was out of rehab, I had to see the love of my life with the person she betrayed me with at my daughter’s birthday party, and it was hard. Only a year ago that was us—happy and in love, and my anger reared its ugly head because the thing that was once mine was now somebody else’s. And it’s hard to feel good about that.”

I take a few calming sips of my tea before continuing, the words feeling somewhat foreign coming out of my mouth. Two weeks ago I couldn’t even open up to Addison about Ava, and here I am, pouring my guts out to her.

“And then there’s the cravings I’ve been dealing with all week. They were mostly triggered by memories and would die down eventually, but each one after that would come on even stronger until I nearly let the craving win today. I’m struggling. There, I’ve said it.” Even though I said the words out loud, the last part was mainly for my benefit. I’ve spent the past couple of days pushing the cravings aside, hiding it from my sister, but saying it out loud means I have to deal with it. I need to reevaluate a strategy so a relapse doesn’t happen.

“I think I know what your problem is, Sebastian.”

“I think I know what you’re going to say.”

“You haven’t been attending your follow-up appointments. They are crucial to the beginning of any recovery. Is there a reason why you haven’t been attending?”

Silence follows for a minute before I sigh. “I thought I could just get on with my life. Leave rehab behind me.”

“And how’s that working for you?” she says in her usual sweet voice but I can hear her underlying sarcasm and I can’t help but smile.

“It isn’t.”

“And have you attended an NA meeting with the list of approved meetings I gave you?”

I raise an eyebrow in response.

“Unfortunately, in order to see improvements, rehab doesn’t end after a three month program. It takes work. The follow-up appointments and NA meetings are an important part of that recovery. I really think you would benefit from them. If it’s the rehab facility that you feel uncomfortable with, I’m happy to come here for your follow-up appointments. It isn’t standard procedure, but neither is giving my cell number to clients and I’m kind of glad I gave it you.” She winks.

I like that about her. That she goes the extra mile for her clients.

“Away from the rehab, I host weekly NA meetings. My next session is tomorrow evening if you want to come along. It’s a lot more laid back than the group meetings at the facility. It’s sometimes even a little fun. What do you say?” She sips the last of her tea before placing the cup gently on the counter.

I don’t even need to think about it. I’ve come too close to the dark side today to even contemplate saying no. I need to sort my life out, and if follow-ups and NA meetings are the way to do that, then I’m all in.

“Yes, absolutely.”

“I SHOULD PROBABLY GET going,” Addison says, looking down at her watch.

I’ve spent the past hour, opening up to her about my feelings and the struggles that have been clouding my mind for the past two weeks, including the bitter pain and hatred I have for life. Surprisingly, I feel a little cleansed after spilling my guts. I suppose keeping all of those feelings bottled up wasn’t the healthiest solution.

“Yeah, of course. You probably have more exciting things to do with your day,” I say, standing up from my seat.

“As it happens I’m going to my niece’s dance recital. I just love sitting in a room full of screaming four to eight year olds.” She rolls her eyes, making me smile.

“How old is your niece?”

“She’s six going on sixteen.” She stands, grabbing her purse from the counter “It’s surprising how much attitude a six-year-old can have, but she’s a sweetheart.”

“I suppose that’s something I’ve got to look forward to. Attitude and dance recitals.”

“Most definitely.” Addison smiles.

The front door suddenly flies open. Grace is standing there, holding five bags of groceries in her arms. “Um, a little help please,” she says, seconds away from dropping the groceries on the floor. I rush over and grab two of the bags. “Thank you,” she sighs, then her eyes brighten as she notices Addison. “Oh, hi. I didn’t realize Sebastian had anybody over.” Her eyes narrow on mine as she drops the grocery bags on the kitchen counter.

“Addison, this is Grace, my sister. Grace, this is Addison. She was my counselor in rehab,” I say as quickly as possible before Grace can make any assumptions. Grace’s eyes sink with worry, and I decide to just tell her. “While you were out, I . . . um . . . I nearly had a relapse. Addison came by to stop me from doing something stupid.”

“How? I was gone like ninety minutes tops.”

“It happened not too long after you left. While unpacking, I found a stash of coke in a jacket from an old
friend
and I almost fell off the wagon.”

“Oh my God.” Grace charges over to me and wraps her tiny body around my huge frame, embracing me in a warm hug. After a few beats she pulls away, the worrisome look still looming in her eyes. “How are you feeling now? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Grace. Honestly, I’m fine. I wasn’t, but I am now. Addison helped,” I say with a smile, my eyes solely on Addison.

“Thank you so much, Addison,” Grace begins. “You’ve obviously gone out of your way to help Sebastian today. I’d hate to think what would have happened without your help.”

“I honestly didn’t do anything. Sebastian already had it flushed down the toilet by the time I arrived. I was just here for guidance. That’s my job.”

“Well, nevertheless, thank you.”

An uncomfortable silence surrounds us. The three of us glance at one another, awkwardly smiling until Addison breaks the silence with a cough before she grabs her jacket from the back of the bar stool.

“I should really get going, but it was lovely to meet you, Grace.”

“You too, Addison.”

I walk Addison to the front door. Once she’s stepped into the hallway, she turns back to me. “So you’ll be at the NA meeting tomorrow?” she asks as she hikes her purse over her shoulder.

“Yes, seven pm?”

“On the dot.”

“Thank you again for coming over.”

Addison beams with a coy smile as she waves her hand. “It’s no problem, Sebastian. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I watch her walk towards the elevators and step inside. She gives me a small wave before the doors close.

I wander back into the apartment and help Grace with the groceries. “Are you really okay?” Grace asks.

I look up from the bag of groceries. “No, but for the first time since I’ve left rehab, I think I could be. I’m gonna go to Addison’s NA meetings, and we’ve set up regular follow-up sessions.”

Grace turns to face me fully, leaning against the edge of the counter, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “That’s great. I kind of feel like a shitty sister, to be honest. I didn’t even realize you’ve been struggling. I’m sorry for that.”

Shaking my head, I walk the few steps towards her and pull her into my arms, resting my chin on the top of her head. “Sorry, sis, that was all on me. I hadn’t been honest with you. I’ve been struggling since Lily’s birthday and like a typical guy, I thought I could just ignore it. But today with the coke . . . well, it just proved how out of my league I am when it comes to real life. To be able to overcome my drug addiction for good I need to work hard on my recovery, starting with my NA meeting tomorrow. So please don’t feel bad that your brother is an ass and didn’t tell you how he was feeling. You’re not a mind reader.”

She pulls away as she looks up at me. “Do you want me to stay for a couple more weeks? I’m kind of worried I’m going to be leaving when you need me the most.”

I shake my head. “I love you so much for asking but no, you have your life waiting for you in Charlotte. Addison is a great support. With her guidance, I think I might be okay.”

“Are you sure? I can easily take another two weeks off work.”

I grasp her hands tightly, looking down at her with confidence. “Yes, I’m sure. I know I’ve been in denial, thinking I could handle my shit without help, but today put into perspective what I have to lose. I want to kick this drug habit before it’s too late. I want to do this for my daughter. I’m no use to her if I’m not on this planet. I want to watch her start kindergarten, and graduate high school. I want to walk her down the aisle on her wedding day. I want to be a part of her life and I can’t do any of those things if I’m dead. So from tomorrow, I’m going to go to my NA meetings, keep my follow-up appointments with Addison, and I’m going to put my life back together. I owe it to my daughter.”

We continue unpacking the groceries and I help Grace prepare for dinner. As I’m chopping the tomatoes for the salad, I hear Grace say, “She’s cute.”