Perfection

by Gianni Holmes

  Instead, all I could dwell on was that if they’d even questioned me once about my choice, then I would’ve felt they were really interested in me as a member of the family.

  The time with my therapist flew by. It still amazed me the things we talked about in our sessions. I’d arrived here that first day willing to seek assistance but skeptical at what I’d find. My first therapy session was like pulling teeth. I’d hoped by the end of my stay, I would be able to free myself of the guilt of being the cause of the accident.

  I got way more than I’d bargained for. We dug into my closet to expose all the skeletons I’d piled up inside. Things I’d completely forgotten about were brought back to the surface for me to acknowledge and work through. And the best thing was the cathartic feeling I had after every session.

  “That’s it. Our time is up, but you did very well today, Ashton.”

  I startled, checking my watch since she didn’t have a clock in the room. I had gone over again by almost forty-five minutes, and she hadn’t even stopped me. The first day I went over our one-and-a-half-hour session, I’d asked her to get a clock for the room, but she’d turned down that suggestion. She didn’t want our sessions to feel timed or that we had to rush.

  “Thank you.” I rose to my feet, and she did the same, patting me on the arm.

  “I mean it, Ashton. I’m pleased with your improvement.”

  “And it’s all thanks to you.”

  “All I do is listen and reveal the tools at your disposal. You’re the one doing all the heavy lifting. Don’t discredit that.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Good. Now have you been keeping up with your recordings?”

  I nodded. “I didn’t feel like it yesterday, but I did.”

  “Awesome. Keep up the routine.”

  Every “guest,” as they called us, who stayed at the center didn’t just attend therapy sessions. It was also a place for us to truly discover ourselves, our passions, our dreams, and use it to fuel our drive. To see substance abuse as a deterrent from us achieving these goals.

  The center housed a music room for those who wanted to use that outlet to express themselves. Professional dancers also visited the center twice for the week to tend to guests who were interested. I went to the dance classes, but I wasn’t really passionate.

  I’d always been into yoga, but it had never been like this before. Now I could block out the people around me and allow my mind and spirit to be in tune with my breathing and the movements of my body. Meditation had taught me the true meaning of self.

  After the therapy session, I set up my phone and made another video to send to Mario. Everything had been executed before I left Battersea. I didn’t want to lose the connection I felt with him, and I might be vain, but I believed he responded as well as he could to me.

  Not only had I purchased the phone for Mario, but I’d also paid one of their caretakers to play them for him every day. I chronicled my days for him, not sugarcoating when the day was horrible.

  Today was thankfully a good one, so I quickly made the video and sent it off. For a brief second, I contemplated sending the video to Callum as well, but that would be initiating forbidden contact.

  My therapist wanted Callum to be out of the picture for now. She thought I was too dependent on him and needed to learn how to walk alone before walking into a relationship.

  It took considerable effort, but to avoid temptation, I powered off my phone and placed it into one of my drawers. They’d let us decide whether we wanted to hand them in or keep our phones with the offer extended to hand them in if we changed our minds.

  I probably would have given up my phone if I hadn’t committed to sending those videos to Mario. Having it also taught me another important lesson. Not giving into temptations but taking steps to counter and stifle urges that were not healthy for me. It taught me responsibility.

  Did it mean I no longer craved a drink? Hell, no. Especially at the end of the session where we’d spoken about the accident, I’d craved a drink so badly I’d planned to hitchhike into town to get one.

  Whoever had decided to build the center way out of town on a huge ranch had a great vision. With no means of getting into town for a drink, I’d locked myself into the bedroom and doubled up on the daily videos. Then I’d taken a long nice hot bath, which calmed me down a bit, but I still went to bed with a thirst on my tongue for the bitterness of alcohol to wash down my throat.

  When I woke up, the morning was better, though. The craving to drink not completely gone but less.

  I’d taken also up exercising to pass the time, and after making the video, I went for a swim in the huge indoor pool. Only one other guest lounged by the pool, sprawled onto her stomach on a chaise like she was being warmed by the sun when we were, in fact, indoors.

  I must not have been as quiet as I’d tried to be because when I looked up from a few laps, she was gone. I’d gotten used to the way people avoided each other here. It didn’t matter that we were going through similar addictions. The guests were anal about their anonymity. They rarely interacted with anyone at all.

  Although swimming in the pool was great, I had to leave. Reluctantly. I got out, then I ran to my room. I took a quick shower to get the pool water from my body and got dressed, then headed to the kitchen area where I helped out as a part of my therapy.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Callum

  Ashton might’ve been away now for a whole month, but he never once let me forget him. From his clothes still at my apartment to his goldfish I had to take care of.

  Then there were the daily videos he sent to Mario. Every Wednesday, when I visited the nursing home, I watched them all, silently cheering him on. He had his fair share of bad days, but at least he seemed healthier.

  As if those things didn’t already keep him on my mind, he found a way to reach out to me from Texas. Gifts came to the coffee shop at least once a week. I would’ve been upset at him sending me stuff, but they were little things. Like a personalized T-shirt with a coffee cup and “Kiss the Barista” on the front.

  That present had made me laugh. Or a pair of coffee mugs, an art piece with a coffee mug labeled “Coffee is a State of Bean,” which I hung on the wall in the coffee shop. I got a kick out of it every time I glimpsed it. There were socks, all with the same coffee jokes, and I got it.

  I understood the reason he did it. He was trying to make me not forget him. Like there was even the slightest possibility of that happening.

  Ashton Keyes was unforgettable.

  A month and one day after he was gone, things had settled down quite a bit. Phil and I were as close as ever. He didn’t even bat an eye this time when the delivery guy entered the coffee shop, bearing flowers.

  Roses. Of all the cheesiest flowers to buy someone.

  “Roses, Callum?” he asked, and I knew he’d tease me about this for a long time to come.

  The entire coffee shop watched the delivery guy come right up to the counter. I’d never received flowers before. That must be the reason for my shit-eating grin as I took in the red petals.

  “I’ve got an order of thirty-nine roses for a Dad celebrating his birthday.”

  I stopped grinning and cleared my throat. “For Callum?”

  “Yes, your son asked for these roses to be delivered to you.”

  “But he doesn’t have a son,” Phil said, choking on laughter. I nudged him in his meaty ribs with my elbow. We both knew he misunderstood what Ashton meant.

  “No?” The delivery guy looked confused as he glanced at the card. “I may have gotten something wrong.”

  I peered at the message on the card.

  Happy birthday, Daddy.

  Love,

  Your boy.

  “You got nothing wrong,” I said. “Thank you.”

  I tipped the delivery guy and counted that there were really thirty-nine roses.

  “Wow, that’s a nice thing for your son to do for you,” the woman at the front of the line sai
d with a smile. “Even better that you’re so happy about it. Do you know how many men would’ve been embarrassed?”

  “At being given roses?” I asked, sliding the vase to one side so I could savor it all day.

  “Yup. Don’t ask me why. Very foolish if you ask me, but hey, Happy Birthday.”

  I thanked her and took her order.

  “Man, you completely forgot to remind me it was your birthday,” Phil grumbled as he walked by me. “You know I would’ve gotten you something.”

  “I didn’t want to make a fuss, Phil.”

  I especially didn’t want to think too much about it, since I would’ve liked to spend the day with Ashton, but he wasn’t around.

  I’d keep the significance of the day close to my chest and let it be just another day.

  A workday with flowers.

  And chocolate that was delivered only an hour after.

  And an expensive watch that came next.

  Then there was the ridiculous flash mob that camped outside the café and waited until I headed out to ambush me. I should’ve cringed at all the attention Ashton was focusing on me, even when he was away, but it was kind of cute, and everyone in the coffee shop cheered and found it endearing.

  When I finally escaped upstairs, the temptation to call him was stronger than ever. At least to tell him thanks for making me smile today. And while I was at it, I could tell him how proud I was of him.

  I called my therapist instead. For the first time since I’d left New York, I’d called her two weeks ago to let her know I’d fallen off the wagon. That I was right back at square one, funneling bad habits of thinking I could save the people I cared about.

  It was just the talk I’d needed from her to remind me that I wasn’t responsible for Ashton’s sobriety. I could support him, but ultimately Ashton had to make the decisions. He had to overcome his demons.

  She was with another client, so I booked an appointment with her. I’d never thought after we’d worked out what went wrong with Mario that I’d need her again. While I could muddle through much of what was happening with Ash since I’d done this before, it was easier to have someone to talk about it.

  I decided to go out for lunch hour but made a detour to the salon first. Two weeks ago, I’d taken up Dane on his offer for a haircut. A couple of times, we’d had lunch together. Completely platonic. He knew I was still interested in Ash, and he respected that. He seemed to need a friend more than a boyfriend anyway.

  “Hey, man.” He grinned when I entered the salon.

  I was struck once more that he was a wholesome and attractive guy. He had himself together, a steady job, steady consciousness, and we talked about his random hookups when he went to bars on the weekend, so he had a healthy sex appetite.

  I should’ve been able to get into him. He’d even be up to it if I made the first move, but I didn’t have the same high feeling I got around Ashton when I was with Dane. I didn’t look in his eyes and feel the need to come up with a sickening nickname like Pretty Eyes. I didn’t have the urge to take him to bed, hold him down, and fuck him.

  No, when I got all hot and bothered, I reacquainted myself with my hand. Mostly in bed at night, hand tight around my dick while my nose was buried in the plushness of Ashton’s stuffed unicorn.

  “Just stopped by to see if you were on break soon,” I said to him. “I’m going over to the park.”

  Food trucks parked there, and some of them had the best unhealthy foods known to man. I felt for something easy and greasy. I’d pay the penalty for it later.

  “Yeah, just give me five.”

  “Man, a good-looking man comes by to pick you up for lunch, and you’re stalling?” The lady whose hair he was spritzing gave him a gentle push toward me. “I’m sure any of the gals wouldn’t mine polishing me up, but don’t miss your opportunity with this one.”

  Dane laughed, his face red as he reached behind him to remove his smock. “It’s not like that at all,” he said as I brushed his hand aside to untie the smock for him. “We’re just good friends.”

  “Ooh, lots of good things can happen with good friends,” the woman said, and everyone laughed.

  I frowned, not liking the insinuation that we were together at all, but neither of us could convince them. In the end, Dane washed his hands, and we hurried from the shop.

  “Don’t mind them,” he said as we walked beside each other. “Beauty shops are notorious for gossip and drama.”

  “Ah, so that’s the real reason you like working there.” I laughed. “Thought you did it for the hair.”

  He shoved my shoulder with his. “Okay, I admit sometimes the gossip gets really juicy, but that’s just a perk.”

  “Tell me.”

  “About what?”

  “The most interesting gossip you heard today.”

  He did while we walked over to the park, and he had me laughing. He always made me laugh. Did the guy have a single bad trait? I had yet to find one. I glanced at him again, allowing my hand to brush his, just seeing if I was wrong.

  I wasn’t. There was no chemistry at all.

  “What’s with the grin today?”

  We located our favorite food truck and stood in line. “It’s kind of my birthday.” I rubbed at the back of my neck. Birthdays weren’t something I ever got excited about. At least not my own.

  It was more of something I liked celebrating for my boy. Not me.

  “What? That’s it. Lunch is on me.”

  “I can get my own lunch.”

  “Yeah, I know that, but come on. It’s your birthday. Are you doing anything later?”

  I shook my head. “Unless you count my date with Lulu and Lola after I close shop.”

  He pulled a face at me. “I swear those goddamn fish have taken over your life. You need to get a boyfriend.”

  “I have a boyfriend.”

  At least I thought I did. He was just in a recovery center getting well. Maybe when he came out, he’d realize he no longer needed a Daddy.

  “Still hasn’t called you?” he asked hesitantly.

  “He can’t.” My tone came out frostier than I’d intended. “It’s a part of his program since his therapist says agrees he’d become dependent on me, and I don’t want him to break that and lose focus. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Hey, man, take it down a notch. I know you’re fully into this guy. I just hope it works out, you know.”

  I didn’t have to respond to him as we stepped to the front of the line and ordered our food. Dane chatted with the food truck guy, completely distracted with all the flirting between them, which I was glad for. It gave me enough time to compose myself.

  When we received our food, we walked away to find an empty table. At this time of the day, that was usually hard. Luckily, group of four young guys who looked like they belonged to Battersea college—one guy had on a polo shirt with the school logo—left, and we grabbed their table.

  Seeing them made me think of Ashton.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you earlier,” Dane said as we settled down to eat. “I should really learn to keep my mouth shut.”

  “It’s okay. We’re still working out this friendship.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, well, I’m glad you came out to the salon today. I think I was beginning to inhale too much hair spray.”

  We both laughed and moved the conversation to safer ground. At least I thought we were on safer territory until I noticed he’d stopped talking. He stared at me with a faraway look in his eyes.

  “What’s that look for?”

  He shrugged and dropped his eyes to his fish sandwich. “Just thinking how nice it must be for him. Ashton Keyes. To have someone who loves him the way you do. Everyone wants that, Callum.”

  “Guess what? It means absolutely shit if you don’t love yourself first. That much I can tell you.”

  “I really hope he gets better for you.”

  And because his words seemed sincere, I spilled everything to him about watching Ashton’s vi
deos, him paying for Mario’s fees, and buying me all kinds of stuff. Phil didn’t know everything, and I felt weird talking to him about so much. He was kind of jaded already where Ashton was concerned.

  Dane was more neutral.

  “Wow, seems like he feels the same way about you and don’t want you to forget it,” he said.

  “Yeah, I have no doubt how he feels about me. I never doubted that. I was more concerned about how he felt about himself.”

  “From all you’ve said, he’s improving.”

  My stomach clenched, and I sobered, coming down from my high. “There was a time I thought Mario was improving too, but it was never for long.”

  And that was the big question that only the future could answer. How long could Ashton keep it up? Was this just a fluke to get me back, or was he really trying for him?

  “The way I see it is that you can only love someone in the present. What’s the sense of worrying over something that might never happen?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Ashton

  I woke up in the middle of the night with stomach cramps and covered in sweat. In my haste to scramble out of bed, I tumbled onto the floor and barely managed to crab walk to the bathroom to throw up. My body convulsed from the force of it, and I was burning up despite the way I shook.

  With a moan, I flushed the toilet and pulled myself up to an erect position. I caught a glimpse of my pale face in the mirror and the wild panic in my eyes. I splashed water onto my face over and over as doubts crashed into my with such force I had to hold on to the counter.

  One week left to go at the center and now was the time I was freaking out. I can’t do this. How was I supposed to go back out there in the world to deal with people on a daily basis?

  There was the upcoming trial with Louis that I had to be present for. Around my sessions here at the center, I’d been in dialogue with my lawyer about the progress of the case. He’d requested a speedy trial which we had been granted since the defendant had no desire to drag things out either. Apparently Louis’s father had tried to keep the whole sordid affair out of the media which hadn’t worked. I had disabled all my social media handles in an effort to focus on my recovery.