by Kacey Shea
We gather in one of the classrooms of a community college near downtown. I’ve caught a few meetings here before, but I don’t recognize any faces as we take our seats in a small circle of chairs.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Alicia so quiet. It’s not until we’ve gone around the room and introduced ourselves that I understand why.
“I’m Alicia and I’m an alcoholic.” She pauses as the small crowd extends their greetings. “It’s been one thousand, five hundred and fifteen days since my last drink. But today I almost threw it all away. I wanted to. I still want to, and that’s why I’m here.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” The meeting leader nods. “Do you mind sharing what it is that triggered you or made you want to relapse?”
“My father, he died today.”
Murmurs of condolences fill the room.
I reach for her hand and squeeze.
She tugs it back into her lap. “But instead of being sad or upset, or thinking of how to console my mother, the only thought I had was how quickly I could sneak away and drink.” The pitch in her voice grows with the speed of her words. “I thought after four years I was past this. That maybe I made it to the next level. One where I still struggle, but not all I can think about or focus on is my next drink. I thought I was above my addiction.”
“But you came here.”
Her gaze drops to her lap. “I almost didn’t.”
“We all live on that line. We’re addicts.” The group leader makes eye contact with each person in our circle. “The disease is part of who we are. We can’t separate from it. You make a decision every day. Every hour. Sometimes every minute, to be sober. To choose freedom over shackles. It’s exhausting, but we keep fighting because we know our brain is lying when it promises relief if we take that one drink, that one hit.” He waits for Alicia to lift her gaze to his. “Keep fighting.”
His words hit straight to the core. By the nods of agreement in the room, I’m not the only one who agrees. I hope it’s what Alicia needed to hear. I couldn’t have said it any better myself. I pray she keeps fighting—for us, for her sobriety, for a life full of joy.
It's not until we are in the truck and driving back from the meeting that we finally get a chance to talk in private. There’s so much I want to say. I really hope she’ll hear me. “Hey, I’m really proud of you.” I reach for her hand, and take it as a good sign that she doesn’t pull away. “You never told me your mom’s an alcoholic.”
“Yeah, well,” She glances out the window. “It’s not something I share.”
I think back to our summer in Kitty Hawk and all the conversations we shared. I wonder why she never brought it up then. Was I the one constantly unloading my burdens on her? That wasn’t fair. I was so early in my recovery, and maybe I leaned on Alicia too much. Maybe that pushed her away?
I’ve spent all this time thinking it was all my fault she left, that she wouldn’t give me another chance. But now I see there was more to it all. Her mom was a toxic presence in Alicia’s recovery. Alicia lived her entire life with an addict. No wonder she was hesitant to pursue anything more with me. I can only imagine the kind of fears her childhood fostered. I should’ve fought harder. Proved myself first.
Or maybe we both needed time to heal. Maybe we’re exactly where we are meant to be. I pull to the side of the road and put my truck in park before turning in my seat to face her. “You aren’t your mother. You know that?”
“Chase.” She sighs. “It’s late.”
“Alicia,” I say, this time more sternly.
“What?”
“You aren’t your mother.”
She shakes her head as if she can’t or won’t hear it.
I squeeze her hand. “You. Are. Not. Your. Mother.”
“But what if I am?” Her face crumples with distress. “What if I got the worst parts of both my parents? I don’t know what happened today, but Chase, it’s like I became someone I didn’t recognize. Someone I was scared of. Have I been fooling myself this entire time? I thought I was getting better. But it’s like that sick part of me was lying dormant, festering and waiting for one tiny slip up.”
“It’s okay.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “What if instead of asking you to take me to a meeting, I asked for a drink? What if I dragged you down with me?”
“But you didn’t.”
“I could never forgive myself.”
I hate that she feels shame. That the weight of my sobriety rests on her shoulders with her own.
Her gaze drops to where my hand still holds hers. “We should probably get home.”
She’s probably right. I don’t know how long Matthew naps, but she must be dying to get back to him. Reluctantly, I pull the truck back on the road. Alicia sends a few texts and I focus on getting us home safely. A few minutes later, we pull into the drive.
Her shoulders stiffen as she jumps down from the truck and faces the house. Her feet drag up the front steps, almost as if she doesn’t want to go inside. I walk behind, resting my hand at the small of her back, hoping my touch offers strength.
She stops before we reach the door, turning to meet my stare. “Chase, you don’t have to come in.”
“I’d rather stay.” There’s no way I’m leaving her alone right now. The day isn’t over, but even if it were, I wouldn’t go. I need her to understand. “I’ll spend the night.”
“What about your cat?”
“You’re concerned about Paws?” I almost laugh.
Her brows furrow. “Yes, I am.”
“He’s a cat who’s used to me being gone several days at a time, thanks to my schedule. He’ll be fine.”
“Chase, you don’t have to do this. My brothers will be over later with dinner. I promise, I’m good now. You don’t have to worry.”
“Accepting help isn’t a sign of weakness.” I step forward, crowding her body. I brush a finger across her cheek. “Let me in.”
She leans into my touch, her eyes drifting shut. “You’ll probably regret this.” I hear the fear she’s too afraid to voice; her worry that I’ll regret her.
“I’ll bet on my life I won’t.” My bigger regret would be leaving her to deal with all of this on her own. “We’re stronger together.” I meet her eyes and hold her stare. “Okay? I need you to know that. I’m not going anywhere, no matter what you say or how hard this gets. I know your heart.”
“I’m sorry.” She starts sobbing, tears falling freely. Her pain is mine, and my soul aches to make it better.
I pull her into my arms. “Baby, what are you sorry for?”
“For leaving. For staying away.” She hiccups against my chest, her tears falling faster. “For keeping you from Matthew.”
I rub her back. It’s been an emotional day. She’s exhausted. Probably starving too. “We don’t have to do this right now.”
“No.” She steps back, wiping at her cheeks. “I do. I don’t want another minute to pass us by.”
“Us?” Crazy as it is, that’s the only word I hear and it gives me so much damn hope.
“I hope there can still be an us.” She presses her lips together. “But if you don’t want that, please be honest and tell me now.”
“I want to be here.” For you. By your side. Forever.
“I don’t know why. I’m a mess.”
“Alicia, I love your mess.” I can’t stand it anymore. I have to kiss her. Dipping my chin, I seal my lips over hers. My kisses are tentative and sweet. A promise to stay. A vow to always love her.
“I’m scared,” she whispers, pulling back to meet my gaze. “Really fucking scared. I thought I was doing right by Matthew, but I let fear call the shots. I’m sorry, Chase. I should have come back. Called. Done my due diligence.” There’s agony in her confession.
“You did what you thought was best.”
“I thought building a wall around my heart would keep it from getting hurt again. I was wrong.” Her hand smooths over my chest to where my heart beats wildly
for her. “Chase, I love you. I never stopped.”
They’re the words I’ve longed to hear, and a peace settles in my soul with her admission. It’s the reassurance I need to know we’re going to make it through. “I love you, too. I’m not leaving your side. I’m here.” I’m so caught up in her—in us. I’ll never stop fighting for her, no matter what life throws our way.
39
Alicia
The next week passes in a whirl of highs and lows. I’m devastated my father is no longer in this world. I miss him so much my heart aches. But these last few years after his stroke changed things. It was hard to see him struggle. To not know if he understood what was happening around him. How there was a possibility he couldn’t comprehend the words we spoke. He was suffering, and with his death comes a sense of relief.
Chase keeps his promise. He stays in my bed every night, finding friends to cover his shifts at the station. We go to meetings and he gets to know Matthew. He coordinates with my brothers to make sure my mom and I are never alone for the times he has to leave, and that support keeps me from drinking.
Simon and I delay our return to London. I offer for him to fly back without me, but he refuses and I am thankful. I can’t imagine going through this without him. He helps with Matthew and gets to know my family better, including my half-sister. They hit it off actually, and it’s nice for him to have someone to hang out with so I don’t feel bad spending all my free hours with Chase.
The hours feel as if they are slipping away. I’m supposed to fly back in another week, the day after my father’s funeral, but I can’t imagine not waking up with Chase beside me, sleeping soundly with the steady rhythm of his breathing assuring me everything’s going to be okay. Just the idea of being back in London has anxiety rushing in my veins.
If only I could slow things down.
Make the hours stretch longer.
Stay here with Chase forever.
Then it hits me. Why can’t I have those things? Am I overcomplicating this? Careful not to wake Chase, I scoot to the edge of the bed and reach down to retrieve my laptop from its bag. The time stamp at the corner of the screen reads three twenty-two when I open it, but it doesn’t matter that it’s the middle of the night. I can’t waste another minute.
I work for hours, until rays of morning sun stream through the tiny cracks in the window coverings.
Chase rolls to his side, his voice gravelly and rough as he reaches for me. “What are you doing?” He runs his palm along my leg.
I shoot him a grin, excitement bubbling in my chest. “Looking for jobs.”
“What?” He sits up, blinking away the last traces of sleep.
I shut my laptop and set it on the bedside table. We haven’t talked much about what happens next, my upcoming departure a source of dread for both of us. “I’m applying to positions in Richmond. I don’t want us to be apart.”
“But you’ve worked so hard.” His brow furrows and his hair falls forward into his eyes before he pushes it back. “You shouldn’t have to drop everything. We can find a compromise. I’m looking into a work visa and how to get certified for firefighting in England. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. We’ll figure this out.”
My heart hammers in my chest, joy chasing away the remains of apprehension as I realize what he just said. “You researched work visas? For me?” I know how much his life is here. How hard he’s worked to establish the teen center and earn captain.
“Of course.” Chase cups my cheek, intently holding my stare. “I would do anything to be with you and take care of Matthew.” The fact he’s willing to give everything up only cements the decisions I’ve already made.
“I want us to raise him here.”
Chase’s brows shoot into his hairline. He leans back, finding my eyes as if he’s trying to gauge the truth in my words. “Because British accents are pretentious?”
“What?” I laugh and shove at his chest. “No. I want him to be raised around family.” Family. That word carries both joy and sorrow. Tears fill my eyes, hating that this move won’t include my father. I’m so thankful I came back for Jill’s wedding. That he got to meet my son, even if it’s a moment only I will remember. One solitary tear escapes and rolls down my cheek, but Chase swipes it away. “I want the support of our friends too.”
“I want that, Alicia. But you don’t have to give up what you’ve worked for. We don’t have to make any decisions yet.”
“I already put in for a leave through the semester. I need time to help my mom. To sort things out with my father’s passing.”
He sighs, rubbing my back and leaning into me. “God, Alicia, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling.”
“I’m sad. A little disconnected. Like all of this isn’t real.” Grief isn’t linear. It ebbs and flows. Selfishly, I want my dad back. The larger-than-life cunning businessman and devoted father. But that man died years ago with no warning. No notice, and our lives were forever changed. “But most of all, I’m scared of wasting another minute. We aren’t guaranteed anything, Chase. Not tomorrow, not even today, and I refuse to let this life pass me by. I want to be with you. To move in together so I never have to wake up without you in my arms. I want to argue about stupid stuff like furniture and pre-schools. I want to raise our child together and plan barbeques with our friends. I want to celebrate every one of Matthew’s birthdays with you by my side.”
He captures my mouth in a kiss, one that seems to stop time if only for a minute. In his presence I feel safe. Loved. Home. I always have.
He pulls back, smiling as our eyes meet. “Sounds like you have our future planned out.”
“Not entirely.” I shrug.
“Oh, yeah?” He wraps his arms around my waist and tugs me onto his lap. “I get a say in some things?”
I shift to straddle his hips, looping my arms around his neck. “Everything.” I brush my mouth over his lips. “You get a say in everything.”
“Now that I’ve got you back, I’m never letting you go.” His hands tighten like a band around my waist. Maybe this should scare me. Maybe we should take it slow. But I can’t help but think our entire lives have prepared us for this moment. I’m committed to this man and our relationship because he brings out the best version of me. For the first time in years, I’m excited for everything the future holds.
40
Chase
Alicia amazes me with her steadfast strength. She deals with her alcoholic mother, attends regular AA meetings for support, and takes care of our son, all while grieving her father’s death.
I am with her every step of the way.
I hold her hand at the funeral.
I’m by her side when she invites Lucía for dinner afterward.
I bear witness to the hard moments and all she’s overcome.
I am proud of her, but most of all I’m impressed with her vulnerability. Of how she works to accept her imperfections and freely receive love. It’s an honor to be a part of her journey.
Today is proving to be one of those hard moments. It’s time for Simon to return to London, and I know how much Alicia is going to miss her friend. Matthew, too. Hell, even I’ve grown used to having the guy around.
Alicia insists we all pile into the truck to drive him to the airport. I don’t mind, even if the car ride is filled with stilted conversation. By the furrow of Simon’s brow, he’s not excited to leave either. We pull into one of the drop-off zones and Alicia gets Matthew out of his seat while I pull the bags out of the truck bed.
Simon comes around the back to take them from me, and extends a hand to shake. “It’s been a pleasure.”
“Thank you.” I clasp his hand and pull him in for an embrace. “Thank you for taking such good care of my family.” I’m surprised by the wave of emotion that hits me. I step back, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Don’t be a stranger. Come back and visit anytime.”
“Thanks, mate.” He grins then turns to hug Alicia. Matthew is balanced on her hip, his toy t
ruck gripped tightly in one fist. He giggles at being squished between their arms. His innocence is heartbreaking. He has no idea one of his favorite, most trusted people is about to be gone from his everyday life.
I notice Alicia’s shoulders shake before she pulls back from their hug.
“Hey, no tears,” Simon warns. “You’ll make me cry.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” She sniffles. “I keep thinking about you not being here, and how much Matthew’s going to miss you, and I . . .” Her eyelids blink rapidly, but it’s no use. A few tears fall in spite of her best efforts.
“There, there.” Simon hugs her tightly and rubs her back. His eyes clench as if he’s fighting back his own tears. “This isn’t good-bye.”
“You’re right. You’re going to visit.”
He smiles his crooked grin. “I might even make it back here for school.”
“I hope so.” She leans into my side as I step close. “Thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for us.”
Simon reaches out to ruffle Matty’s hair. “Mate, you take care of your mum. Be a good boy.”
“Goo’ boy!” Matthew grins.
“That’s right.” Simon blinks and then looks away. His chest rises with a ragged breath before meeting Alicia’s stare. “I better go check in. Don’t want to miss my flight.” Simon meets my gaze. “You take care of these two for me. They deserve the world.”
“I will. I promise.”
“All right, then.” Simon stoops to lift the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “Send me lots of photos. I want to see this bugger grow up, even if it’s miles away.”
Alicia nods, her tears falling freely down her cheeks. I’d be jealous, but it’s clear their relationship is strictly that of best friends. We wave and wait until he’s inside before piling back into the truck.
It’s not until the airport is in the rearview mirror that Alicia composes herself enough to speak. “That was really hard.”