Shhh... Gianna's Side (27 page)

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Authors: M. Robinson

BOOK: Shhh... Gianna's Side
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“Where are you going?” I questioned, not wanting to break the open line of communication.

“I have no fucking idea.” We both laughed. “I have a house that I rented when I was having a mental breakdown. I’m pretty sure it’s a piece of shit and I didn’t really make a wise investment. I can’t see myself going back there. I’m done running away. I need to try something else.”

“Agreed,” I responded.

“Are you scared?”

“Absolutely. I’m terrified.”

“I understand, but at least everything is out now,” she justified.

I sat up higher
. “Yeah…about that, Mack. I need–”

We both turned when the door unexpectedly pushed open.

“GG! GG! GG!” she repeated, running over to me and jumping into my arms. I closed my eyes, not wanting to ruin the moment.

I hugged her tight
, breathing in her little girl smell. I hadn’t seen her since Christmas. I took a deep breath before opening my eyes. We locked eyes with each other and I didn’t have to wonder if she knew. It was written all over her face. I looked back at Abby and I couldn’t imagine a life without her or a world without her in it, and that very well could have happened if I hadn’t gotten that phone call from AJ telling me she needed a blood transfusion. Looking at her now, you would have never known that she was a tiny, premature baby.

The second I saw her I knew she was a product of my dad and McKenzie.

“Abigail, you don’t run away from me like that,” he said, just as he turned the corner to come into my room. He abruptly stopped when he saw us.

“McKenzie,” he said.

“Kyle,” she replied.

And then the peace was gone…

“Hi, my name is Gianna Edwards and I’m an alcoholic. It’s been ten months since I took my last drink. I’m receiving my tenth-month sobriety chip tonight. I can’t say that it hasn’t been hard because it has. My sponsor, family, and friends have been extremely supportive, and for the first time in my life, I’m not scared every morning when I wake up. I have feelings and emotions that I struggle with on a daily basis. I used to self-medicate with anything I could get my hands on; I was a human garbage disposal. I’m not proud of the things I have done, but I have forgiven myself and I try to stay optimistic about the future. I’ve slowly forgiven myself,” I nervously laughed. “Umm…that’s all I have to say, I guess. Thank you.”

Everyone stood up and
applauded, and I can’t help but blush and smile. My sponsor was in the back of the room and she called me over.

“You did good
, girl.”

“That was fun…
not really, but look at my shiny chip.” I held it up in my hand while she laughed.

“I bar
ely recognize you from the skinny, paled, pathetic girl I met six months ago. You look healthy and dare I say happy.”

I grinned
. “I wouldn’t go that far. I’m joking. I feel good. I just focus on how I feel every day and I take one day at a time.”

“Look at you, you’re like the spokesperson for sobriety.” I shrugged.

“I’m going to let you go celebrate. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

I was free of all the lies and I felt amazing. As soon as Mack realized that her child was alive and I knew about Abigail being a product of her and my father’s relationship, our rekindled friendship kind of fizzled.

I knew that they
were together and although I didn’t understand it, I respected it. My dad was very active in my life and that was good enough for me.

As far as Mack
, she has her own story to tell and I knew nothing about it. She has her own journey to share with her own mistakes, lies, betrayals, and confessions. Don’t we all…maybe I’ll hear it someday or maybe I won’t. I know there are always two sides to every story and I’m sure she has hers.

Everything happens for a reason and I know that now.

I went into a ninety-day rehab program when I was discharged from the hospital. I almost checked myself out three times. My counselor talked me down though, and with her help, I stayed to live another sober day. They make you write down all your feelings, and I mean everything, especially the real personal stuff. When my parents came in for family therapy, it was one of the times I almost checked myself out. To hear everything I put them through was excruciating. I never realized how bad I hurt everyone around me, most of all my parents. It nearly sent me over the edge, but my counselor reassured me that it was normal.

If I hadn’t tried to leave
, she would have been more concerned. I also realized how blatantly stupid I was for thinking that they couldn’t tell I was an alcoholic. They knew the entire time. One of the hardest things that I have ever had to do was look my parents in the face and tell them that I had a problem, and not only that, but that I was a liar. I divulged all my secrets about James, my childhood, Jake, the rape, every last bit. I never thought I would see hurt like I had on my mom’s face. My dad remained strong like he always was, but my mom broke down. I was petrified that they would disown me and I informed them of that. They both just embraced me and we all cried together. It was very spiritual and therapeutic.

I regretted my entire life that day; if I had just been honest from the beginning I could have stopped the spiraling results of all the secrets. I’d like to think that I’ve lived three different lives in my life. That I’ve been three different people; Gia, G, and most recently
, Gianna. I love Gianna; she’s smart and levelheaded and everything I aspire to be. She’s the person I look up to and she’s the person who saved me. Gia was Mack’s best friend and the girl who could never keep up with anyone. She was the liar. Now…the infamous G, she was the alcoholic and the devil. She was destructive and lost.

I know that I said she was also James
’ soul mate, but she never was. It was always Gianna with James; I just didn’t know it until now. I hadn’t spoken to James, although he did reach out to me around four months ago. I still couldn’t talk to him without being afraid that I would relapse. I placed a lot of blame of my drinking problems on him and it’s taken me a while to realize it was never him, it was all me. That was a very brutal and gut wrenching realization for me to have, but as a recovering alcoholic, I have to stop placing blame on others for my decisions. They were mine and mine alone.

I missed him every
day and a huge part of me was still with him.

After the first three months of rehab
, I was placed in sober living where I currently reside. It was voluntary and I wasn’t ready to be on my own, the temptation was still high and I didn’t want to relapse, I still don’t. My counselor suggested sober living and I signed myself right up. It fit perfectly where my life was at the time, and now I find myself maybe ready for something different. I go to AA at least once a day. I’m working through my twelve steps and they are excruciating but helpful. The peace that I feel in my heart is a feeling that I have never felt before. And even though I am still very much living in the storm, it is calm and serene. The waves don’t engulf me anymore, I ride them smooth until they are flat and I have resurfaced.

I sat by the windowsill of the library
in my sober living home, finishing my journal entry for the day when I swear I felt him.

James…

“You look good, Gianna,” he announced, making it crystal clear that he was indeed there.

With me.

I didn’t turn, not knowing what to say.

“You have this glow to you right now. Although, you always had a certain aura about you.”

I sucked in air.


Take all my loves, my love, yea take them all; what hast thou then more than thou hadst before? No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call; all mine was thine, before thou hadst this more. Then, if for my love, thou my love receivest, I cannot blame thee, for my love thou usest; but yet be blam'd, if thou thy self deceivest by wilful taste of what thyself refusest. I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief, although thou steal thee all my poverty: and yet, love knows it is a greater grief to bear love's wrong, than hate's known injury. Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows, kil me with spites yet we must not be foes,”
[14]
he recited.

I took a deep breath and turned to find him standing there in slacks and a button down shirt.

“Oh my God,” I declared.

He was holding the Romeo and Juliet book he gave me all those years ago. How did he find it?

He slowly walked over to me and got down on one knee and my eyes widened. He grabbed my hand and flipped it over, the same arm that had all my scars. He flipped his arm that held his scars and smiled, interlocking them together. He opened his palm and placed the same dried rose petal in between our interlocked hands and I started to cry. He reached into his pocket to produce a new, single, fresh, red rose petal.

“Let’s heal each other,” he whispered, kissing all over my scars.

I didn’t know what the future would hold. All I knew was that in the present, he was kneeling before me.

We were together.

James and Gianna.

And that was good enough for me.

I loved her from the first day of school. When she walked into the classroom I knew we were meant to be together. There was this certain beautiful broken entity about her, from the first smile.

She was mine.

I knew she would be uncertain about our age difference but I didn’t care. None of that mattered to me.

All that mattered was that we were going to be together.
 

She belonged to me.

But she didn’t.

Her love was a lie.

A secret.

A betrayal.

I don’t understand how she couldn’t love me back. Why couldn’t I get the same passion, devotion, and love? What was wrong with me?

I knew she was cheating on me with him the entire time. I didn't care because I had some of her and that was good enough for me. I loved her that much, I could love her enough for the both of us. I let her go because I thought she would come back to me. That’s what was supposed to happen.

Love is supposed to prevail.

I let her go thinking it was what she needed.

She stole my heart.

So I stole her happiness.

I planned it all.

I told his wife and implanted the seed of making him pay, it was so fucking easy. I thought he would spend the rest of his miserable life in prison. But he didn’t. So I came up with a new plan and he bit at the bait. Just like his wife had.
All he had to do was take care of Mack and I took care of Gianna. The plan was set in motion. I was behind the scenes. No traces of my physical involvement, I just pulled the strings. The deal was he would torture her and make her pay for her sins. I thought that would have her running back to me, thinking he was a monster. But it backfired, just like before.

I have only ever loved one woman.

I will love her for the rest of my life.

But she belongs to another.

Always has and always will…

My name is Jake Henderson and the truth will set me free.

 

All’s fair in
love
and
war…

 

The end.

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