“Before we go in, I need your word that everything you see and hear today will be kept private. Is that a problem, Marlo?”
I eye him curiously, but shake my head, anyway. Being a nurse, I’m used to keeping things confidential, so no problem there.
We cross the street and enter the church from the meeting hall entrance. We pass a few small groups of people smoking in the front, and they give Ever half-assed waves. Once inside, more people mill in the lobby area, but Ever pulls me into the meeting room. At first glance, the room is nothing but metal chairs and a table with coffee in the back. Half the metal chairs are occupied.
He pulls me farther into the room, and I notice a bobbing blonde bun with paintbrushes sticking out in all directions. We both sit down, and the room slowly fills with people. A light stench of stale smoke and coffee settles around us.
“That’s a pretty sorry setup over there,” I whisper, gesturing to the one pot of coffee with sugars and creamers littered around it. “Someone could have thrown down a plate of cookies or something.”
“You should come to one of our Thursday meetings. Leftover cupcakes from Vespers,” he says, waggling his eyebrows.
I scoff. “Yeah, right. Like there are leftovers of my cupcakes.”
He laughs and places a hard kiss to my temple.
Clapping hands pull our attention to the front of the room, and my gaze falls on Caroline, my Caroline, as she wrangles the crowd.
“Are we ready to get started?” she asks with outstretched arms and a smile, her eyes surveying the room. She stops short when her eyes meet mine, and recognition flickers when she notices Ever next to me. She smooths her expression and continues. “Hello, everyone. My name is Caroline, and I’m an alcoholic.”
She watches me as the group greets her in unison, and I watch her right back. I give a tiny nod, which she takes as intended, and continues. She keeps talking as my mind swirls with a million thoughts. I’m surprised to see her here in one way, but in another, it makes perfect sense. Who better to understand the plights and struggles of her clients than someone who’s endured some of the same struggles? Isn’t that the reason I became a SANE nurse? A small part of me feels slighted that I’ve never known this side of her. Does she think I wouldn’t accept her for who she is? No, that can’t be it…
“The Serenity Prayer” plays as background noise to my racing thoughts, filtering through in bits and pieces.
Accept the things I cannot change.
Courage to change the things I can, and
Wisdom to know the difference.
I turn to Ever, feeling confused, overwhelmed … exposed. It all feels too real, and I shake my head, wanting to bolt. Ever’s face gentles, and his eyes smile at me as he runs a thumb across my flushed cheek.
“It’s all right,” he whispers. “You’re just here to listen. Okay?”
I nod my agreement, all the while thinking to myself, “No, it’s not okay. It’s the exact opposite of okay.” I can’t be sure of what comes next, but I know it’s going to be too real, too raw, and it terrifies me. I turn forward in my seat and place my hands in my lap, one on top of the other, and look straight ahead.
People stand, one by one, and share their stories—some of triumph, some of despair, but all straight from the heart. As they bare their souls, I wonder what Ever will say when it’s his turn. Will it be healing? Or hurtful? Either way, am I ready to know?
The room erupts into applause, and Ever squeezes my hand, bringing my focus back to him. He gives our entwined fingers a quick kiss and rises from his chair. Caroline waves him forward, and he pulls his wallet out of his back pocket on the way to meet her. Holding up what looks like a red coin, he takes a bronze coin from Caroline. He gives her a tight hug, whispering to her as she smiles and nods. Her gaze flits to mine, and I look away, feeling confused.
The clapping quiets, and Ever turns to address the room. He averts his gaze and draws in a deep breath, obviously overwhelmed. Believe me, I know the feeling. I want to know what he’ll say more than anything in the world, yet I fear it at the same time.
“I have a million words to say … years of them built up, ready to pour out of me. And now that I’m standing here? Nothing,” he says with a chuckle, and the room laughs with him. He holds up both coins and shows them to the group. “I’m gonna keep both of these with me always. The red coin so I never forget where I’ve been, and the bronze coin to remind me how far I’ve come. My name is Ever, and I’m an addict. I’ve been sober for five years today.”
Amongst applause and two-fingered whistles, his searching eyes bore into mine, waiting for something. Condemnation? Acceptance? Maybe love?
“AA says we should focus on the here and now, but today, on the fifth anniversary of my sobriety, I need to reflect. I hope you’ll indulge me.” Ever casts a glance in Caroline’s direction, and she smiles. “I’ll never forget the first time my mother told me it was my fault my brother was sick. She was drunk beyond all sensibility. I was five years old. She said, and I quote, ‘You ruined him. You may as well have killed him. I can’t even look at you.’”
Tears well up in my eyes, and hatred for his mother burns in my gut. What kind of mother says something like that?
“And she didn’t. Look at me, that is, for stretches longer than I can measure. Easton was my twin, and for medical reasons I can’t explain, I took more than my share from my mother when she was pregnant, leaving Easton nothing but scraps. In my mother’s twisted mind, I had sucked the life out of my brother. I knew early on she would never forgive me, and that poison took up residence in my veins. It flowed through every part of my body … stilted my breath … hardened my heart. It darkened my soul and settled in deep, down to the marrow of me. I believed every single word she said. Even worse, I knew she did, too.”
Those words from our past wash over me like crashing waves, one after the other, with no time to catch my breath. “I ruin the ones I love. I’m like a leech that sucks people dry. Everything I touch turns to shit.” These were not the ramblings of a brooding teenager. They were his truth. That’s what he had believed, at least.
“Growing up that way, living with that type of original sin, the kind that won’t wash off no matter how hard you scrub—it changes you. It makes you live a life of unrelenting regret and misdirected anger. And when my brother … my best friend … passed away unexpectedly, I let go of the frayed rope of control I’d been dangling from for years. You see, Easton and I were two parts that made a whole—I’m the healthy body, the working shell, but Easton? He was the insides, the pure and gentle soul—easy to love and impossible to let go. He left me here, but I couldn’t accept it.” Ever fiddles with his frayed jeans pocket and sniffs. “I’m sure you can all imagine what happened next.”
Ever looks out into a crowd of nods and words of affirmation. They all know this story all too well. So do I, but it’s because I had lived it. I’d watched him let go of that rope with no idea how to save him from himself, not even sure if he’d wanted to be saved. At the time, it’s doubtful he did.
“I lost my brother and pushed away the girl I loved and just drowned in it. I carried around this gnawing pain—it wasn’t just an albatross around my neck, it was an inoperable tumor in my gut.” He clutches his stomach, hand fisted, voice rough like gravel. “The drugs felt like the only way to fill it. Or numb it. Or just give me a moment’s peace.”
He meets my gaze, and his eyes are filled with unspoken apology. “I’m embarrassed to admit how many years, yes, years, it took me to wake the hell up. With the helpful and none-too-gentle shove of a friend and my uncle, I finally agreed to enter recovery. Of course, I fought, lashed out, and denied, denied, denied. And all of it was wiped away when my uncle said to me, ‘What Easton wouldn’t give for the chance to live this life? The very life you’re throwing in the goddamn trash.’”
Ever shrugs and presses his lips into a thin line. He’s open, honest, and raw. Humble and vulnerable.
“I woke up
, detoxed, started a new life, and finally, finally, mourned the loss of my brother. I’ll probably be doing that in small ways for the rest of my life.”
Accept the things I cannot change…
“I strive everyday to be a brother Easton would be proud of. To be the best friend, business partner, mentor, son, that I can be. That’s how I honor my brother every single day.”
Courage to change the things I can…
Ever’s eyes are locked on mine, and I feel my tears building. His words undo me, chip away at my resolve. A tear falls onto my cheek, the crack in my facade showing itself, no matter how hard I fight it.
“I hope you can see the change in me, know I’m a different man than I was before, and open your heart to me. I need you to give me more of a chance than you think I deserve … so I can prove you wrong.”
Ever pulls the coins out of his pocket and holds one in each hand. “It’s a good day. Thanks, everyone.”
Marlo
EVER SITS DOWN beside me, and his presence feels like a concrete block on my heavy chest. After his speech, every eye in the room burns holes in my back, but that’s nothing compared to the way he wrings out my heart by just sitting there. He makes no move to touch me or talk to me, and thank God for that, since I feel like I might shatter into a million pieces.
Caroline wraps up the meeting, her words droning on in my head like Charlie Brown’s teacher. Chairs scrape the floor, and the soft mumbles become more boisterous as everyone stands and files out of the room.
I shoot up out of my chair, but head in the opposite direction of the exit. As luck would have it, Caroline is alone when I get to her. She wraps an arm around me and turns us away from the crowd.
“Why don’t we step into my office,” Caroline whispers as she rubs my back.
“What is happening?” I ask when we stop in the corner of the room. “What the hell just happened?”
“Seems to me you got a helluva lot of information in a short amount of time,” Caroline says with a chuckle. She tips my chin to meet my eyes. “It doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”
My face crumbles and the tears build, yet again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She sighs, and her mouth quirks up on one side. “Which part? About my being an alcoholic? I’ve been sober for decades, Marlo. I own who I am and the life I’ve led, but I don’t have a mind to dwell. Just like my work at the clinic, I thrive on helping others, and that’s where my focus is these days. These people are my friends. We just happen to all have something in common.”
I nod and smile, because I understand where she’s coming from. Caroline is not a person to worry about labels. She’s too many things to too many people to concern herself with that.
“Now the Ever part of this happy accident? He told me of a girl named Low, and I had a sneaking suspicion it was you, but I couldn’t be sure. And I couldn’t ask,” she says with a shrug. “It’s called Alcoholics Anonymous for a reason, Low. Now, I can’t lie, I’m pleased as punch you’re who he’s been going on about, and I plan to get a front row seat and popcorn to this particular show.”
She laughs at her joke as I shoot her a mortified glare.
“This isn’t funny, Caroline. I feel like my world is spinning out of control.”
“On the contrary. I think it may finally be coming together for you.”
Her eyes dance with excitement, and my irritation bubbles beneath my thin skin. I pull away, but she tightens her steely grip on my shoulder.
“You’ve both overcome the unimaginable. I can’t think of any two people who deserve happiness more than you and Ever.”
I scoff and roll my eyes. “You would say that.”
“And why wouldn’t I?”
I throw my hands in the air and raise my eyebrows in frustration.
“So what? I should just toss my heart on the table for Ever to feast on?”
Caroline inches closer until we’re nose to nose and I have nowhere to hide.
“It’s been locked in a cage of your own doing for as long as I can remember. How’s that working for you?”
“Low?”
Ever’s voice cuts the tension bouncing from me to Caroline, and I shut my eyes for just one second—the briefest calm before the storm. And make no mistake, this one is a Category 5 hurricane. I turn to face him, pressing my lips together and steeling my heart. Arms hanging at his sides, a nervous smile etched on his face, and eyes filled with vulnerability … hurt … hope.
Shit.
“Ready?” I ask, my tone clipped.
His smile wavers, and he shoves his hands into his pockets. Ever turns his attention to Caroline and gives her an almost imperceptible nod.
“You crazy kids have fun,” Caroline says, her upbeat tone feeling itchy against the current mood of the room.
“Bye,” I whisper as I put one foot in front of the other, looking straight ahead. Ever falls in line beside me, but he looks the same as me—criminals on their way to face the firing squad. Neither of us say a word.
I stare at my house through the windshield of my Jeep—gardenia bushes in full bloom, smelling like heaven, white banister porch sanded and painted by yours truly, and a black front door shining like a beacon, glowing like a safe haven, softly calling my name. My escape is mere yards away. I just need to figure out how to make it there unscathed.
I’m exhausted. I’m confused. I’m overwhelmed.
And I’m so hungry I could rip off my arm and eat it. Hangry doesn’t even begin to cover it.
I reach up to turn off the ignition, but Ever’s hand covers mine before I turn off the key.
“I lay it out there. Throw it all on the line, and you don’t have one goddamned thing to say?” he spits out angrily, but I hear the hurt behind the venom.
I drop my head to the steering wheel and groan. No escape for me. Not even a second to breathe … to think. I let out a frustrated sigh and white knuckle the steering wheel, hoping to release some of this frustration. My head swirls with all that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours, and I struggle to get a firm grip on anything.
Did Alex really just have her baby last night? It feels so long ago, I should be buying Avery her first birthday gift … a baby bikini to give West a heart attack. That’s what friends are for.
The only thing I know for certain is I’m nowhere near ready to have this conversation with Ever. I may never be ready for him.
“Yeah, I’ve gotta admit, it was quite the verbal vomit you spewed all over that room. You covered it all, didn’t you?” I turn my head to the side and glare at him. “You’ve been thinking on this shit for years. Years, Ever. I’ve had what? An hour? How about you give me a little time to process things?”
“No.”
“No? What the hell do you mean ‘no’?”
“We’re talking about this now. I’m not giving you a couple days to rebuild your walls, and we both know that’s exactly what you plan on doing. You’re right about one thing, Low. It’s been years. And I’m not willing to give up one more day waiting for you to see what’s right in front of your face.”
“Right in front of me? All I see right in front of me is an impatient dickhead!”
“And I see a stubborn pain in my ass,” he hollers. He leans in and runs his hands up the sides of my neck and squeezes. “But I love you. And I need you to let me, because I’m not giving up this time.”
I bite my cheek and clench my eyes shut, trying to stave off the rush of emotions. How he thinks he can make the square root of pi minus the derivative of whatever the fuck equals two is beyond me. The complicated doesn’t magically become simple. He can’t just tell me he loves me and turn back the clock.
Do I love him? Did I ever stop?
“You’re crazy.” I shake my head and feel my defenses slipping through my fingers like sand. “How do you propose we start over after everything we’ve been through?”
“After?” He pulls me closer, forehead to forehead. “I don’t care about before or afte
r or anything in between. The only thing I care about is us. It’s you and me, Low.”
“How can we ever be the same?” I whisper as a traitorous tear escapes. Ever swipes it away with his thumb, leveling me with his pleading eyes.
“How can we be anything different than what we’ve always been?”
“And what’s that?”
“Everything.”
One word. How can one single word erase years of hurt? How can it shift my world on its axis, making what should be wrong feel right; turning what’s forever been impossible into inevitable. It can’t be that simple. It can’t be, but somehow it just is.
Everything.
He’s the rushing water, eroding away the jagged edges of my resolve.
I love it.
I hate it.
I can no longer deny it.
And when his lips crash into mine, hard and urgent, I take it.
It’s tender and brutal.
It’s comfort and ecstasy.
It’s all of those things … and every single thing … all at once.
Marlo
WITH MASHED LIPS, legs clamped around Ever’s waist, and hands grabbing any and every part of each other we can, somehow we unlock the door and fall into the foyer. I fumble with the buttons of his shirt as the door latch clicks into place. Ever grabs my wrists and pulls them away, but I push back.
I point to his tented crotch and glare. “Pants off, dick out.”
“Not this time, Low.” He shakes his head, making his lips brush against mine, then nudges me back against the door. “We’ve been doing this your way for a while now, but not this time.”
I jerk my hands away from him, but he keeps a tight hold on my wrists. I unhook my legs and slide down him, my soft body pressed to his hard one. So very hard…
“I want you, open eyes…”
He pulls my bottom lip into his mouth and sucks.
“Open heart…”
He moves to my ear, and goose bumps erupt along my neck from the feel of his ragged breath.
Ever Over After (The Over Duet #2) Page 11