by Unknown
“Xander?” His name tenses more than my muscles. “As in your ex-boyfriend?”
Nonchalantly she leans against the counter. “Yes.”
The casualness of her attitude claws at my unstable conscience. “Why the fuck would you have dinner with your ex-boyfriend?”
“Because he asked,” she snaps.
“You didn't have to say yes!”
“I didn't have to say no!”
“You should've said no,” I argue. “You have no right-”
“Oh don't start.” Presley points a sharp finger at me. “Right now, you of all people have no right to tell me what I should and should not be doing. You were the one with a naked woman on your couch!”
“I can explain that,” I start as my phone vibrates in my pocket. Pulling it out, I give Law's name a glance on my phone, and toss it on the counter. The returning of my call is a little too late. I didn't cave into my cravings but I damn near lost the battle with myself. I know he's allowed to have a life, but don't tell me to fucking call if you're not going to answer when I do. “But before I do, I wanna know why you went to dinner with him? What was the point? To get back at me?”
“At first...” Her voice trails off.
“Thought we weren't in fucking high school any more, Pres.”
The anger that flares in her eyes pushes my hands onto the counter top. “So did I, yet here we are, having what feels like an old ass argument.”
“It's not an old ass argument. You going to dinner with an ex-boyfriend-”
“Was my business,” she bites and mimics the motion of slamming her hands on the counter. “He just wanted to talk.”
“About what?”
“About us.”
“There shouldn't be an 'us' for the two of you anymore,” I growl. “You're not an 'us', Presley. We're an 'us'.” She tries to say something, but I bulldoze her efforts in a blinding distress. “Are you...are you still in love with him?” Even the small sliver of the answer being a yes causes a heaving motion. The vibrating of my phone adds unneeded emphasis to my mental anguish.
With a sigh she surprises me once more. “I would've had to have been in love with him first.”
Perplexed by the retort I question, “How can you be with someone you're not in love with for five years?”
“The same way you can be in love with someone for ten years and not be with them.” Her below the belt punch knocks me down to leaning on my forearms. “The same way you assume you'll fall out of love with a person you haven't seen in a decade, you figure at some point you'll fall in love with someone you've dedicated that much time to. That it'll just happen, but it never did. Apparently it doesn't matter how many times you go through the actions, it doesn't make it real.”
Silence attempts to bridge the space between us, but my cell phone begins to vibrate again, Law's angry scowl with it.
“So you....you never loved him?”
“The only person I've ever loved is staring at me in the face right now. The only person I ever loved owes me a damn good, believable explanation about the naked woman in his apartment. Who is she Ryder? A friend?”
“She didn't start that way...” I mumble, the stress hanging my head.
Presley squeaks, “What the hell does that mean?”
“That didn't come out right. I-” My phone's constant buzzing grits my teeth.
“Do you need to answer that?”
“No.” Shaking my head I quickly insist, “The only thing I need to do is fix this between us. That's all that matters right now.”
“Who's calling?”
“Law.”
“Who the hell is Law?”
“My sponsor.”
“You have a sponsor?”
There's an unexpected hurt in her voice I don't know what to do with. “Yeah. That's a good thing...right?”
“Yeah,” she softly agrees. “That's a great thing.” Before I have a chance to smile she adds, “That would've been a great fucking thing to know. That's the kind of thing you tell your girlfriend.”
Another presented failure pushes my hands to rub my temple.
“This is the bullshit I didn't wanna do again, Ryder. You promised me things would be different! You promised me you wouldn't keep anything from me! You promised no more secrets! You promised you wouldn't lie to me!”
“I didn't lie to you!”
“But you didn't tell me about them either! You don't talk to me! You don't trust me!” She whispers the next line, “And now the feelings mutual.”
Choked by the comment the rest of the world vanishes. “I didn't tell you about Law, my sponsor or Kara, the only person I spoke to outside a therapist while I was in rehab, because I'm fucking ashamed of it.”
The revelation sags her shoulders.
“Don't you get that, Pres? I'm fucking ashamed of everything I've become. Do you have any idea what it's like to look someone in the face who's damn near perfect and have to question what the fuck could they ever see in a person like you? What could they ever need from someone like you? It scares the shit out of me every morning I wake up that today could be the day you realize what a mistake it was giving me a second chance because be honest with yourself, Pres, what the hell could I ever do for you now? You don't need me. You've proven that. You continue to prove that every fucking chance you get. You don't need my help with work. You don't need my help with shopping. You don't need my help with your car or cooking or cleaning. I have to give every fucking punch to really find a place in your life where I can briefly be needed. You walked away from us....and you made something spectacular of yourself. A completely independent person. And me? I broke. I shattered and am just now capable of picking up the shambles. I even need help having people kick the shambles into my line of vision. So no...I didn't tell you about my sponsor who went with me to look at colleges. I didn't tell you I go to meetings once a week, every week. I didn't tell you I talked to Kara because I recognize the broken part of myself in her. I didn't tell you those things because as much as you want to learn the monster inside of me the last thing I need is for you to add more reasons to the list of justification to walk away one final time without looking back.”
Tears trickle down her cheek as she tosses her head at the still ringing device. “Answer it.”
Reluctantly, I do. “Yeah?”
“Are you alright?” Law's voice sounds strangled.
“Define alright.” Shutting my eyes I sigh, “I left you a message with why I was calling. In that aspect, I'm fine.” There's dead air for longer than I'm comfortable with. “That is why you were calling...right?”
Law clears his throat but doesn't agree.
“That's not why you were calling.”
“I called because there was a report of a young woman who overdosed in her apartment this afternoon.” Suddenly the blood seems to be rushing to my ears. “It was Kara, Ryder. One of the paramedics recognized her from a meeting. Word spread. I was calling to see if you needed someone to talk to. I was calling to see how you were handling the information.”
Numbness spreads until my vocal chords are severed.
“Do you need to meet me?”
Presley's moving body echoes the agony she just expressed about not communicating with her. Not letting her in the nightmare of my every day experiences. I whisper, “No. I'll talk to Pres.”
He pauses before he verifies. “Are you sure? I'm available, Ryder. Just say the word.”
Her presence seems to be approaching. “Tomorrow. After the meeting.”
“Call me if you change your mind.”
I nod even though he can't see it. My hand trembles as the call ends and I open my eyes to the woman I love now just inches way.
Seeing the changed expression she quietly questions, “What's wrong?”
“Kara OD’d.” Her jaw drops in shock and I continue, “This afternoon. Law was...Law was calling to check on me. See if I needed to talk.”
“Do you?” She rushes out, brushing away the
wetness on her cheeks. “Do you need me to drive you to meet him?”
“You said you wanted to be here for me.” Sliding the phone away from me I shrug. “Here's your chance. Here's what it really looks like behind the curtain of an addict. Overdosing is around every corner. Sobriety is as fragile as it comes. Living is something most people take for granted until death is staring them in the face, but something I've learned between therapy and recovering meetings? Death follows an addict, waiting for a single misstep to take them.”
Presley stretches her arms around my body tightly. The gentle action melts my entire body. For the first time since we've been together, I completely release everything I have. Holding onto her tightly I silently bawl until the anguish, the sorrow, the self-loathing, and hopelessness are no longer existent.
At the end of the emotion emptying, I profess on a sob, “I don't wanna end up like Kara, Pres. I don't wanna be found OD’d in an apartment without any one who fucking cares about me. I don't wanna end up so fucking scared and alone that's the only way to stop the fear. I want more out of life. I want you...I just hope you want me too.”
Presley
I stretch my legs out in front of me. “You always pick the worst time to travel.”
“You sound like my husband,” she chuckles from the other end of the phone.
“David and I understand how important it is to have you around,” I say as I look out across the rolling hills of my back yard. One of the reasons I picked this town house was for this morning view right here.
“I'm sure.” Katherine adjusts the phone from the sound of it. “What's going on? You're up much too early for a Saturday.”
“Haven't exactly been to sleep,” my confession is on a sigh.
“You don't sound like it's because of happy honeymoon relationship sex,” she clarifies matter of factly. “So, talk to me. What's the problem?”
“Do you think I behave like I don't need anyone?”
She doesn't hesitate. “Yes.”
The response slumps me further in my seat.
“But it's slightly expected, Presley. You spent most of your life trying to establish your own self-reliance. You wanted a business. You wanted to be your own boss. You dated Xander. You stated very clearly from a very early point you didn't need anyone, but you. Do I think that was the intention? No. As a professional, I would state it's compensation for being so dependent on someone in your past, but as your friend...I would say it's because you're afraid of giving any one the power to hurt you like Ryder did when you were younger. Now. Tell me why you ask.”
After swallowing her diagnosis I reply, “Ryder and I had a fight yesterday-”
“Real couples do that. You know that.”
“Yeah, well, he accused me of not needing him and my 'perfect' life as an excuse to keep things he finds embarrassing from me.”
“Like what?”
“Like having a sponsor.”
“He goes to meetings? Good for him.” Her praising rolls my eyes. “I can understand his line of mistaken logic. No one likes someone judging their flaws-”
“But I don't!”
“But that doesn't mean that's not how it feels, Presley.”
“So you're on his side.”
“Hey,” Katherine says sharply. “As a best friend I'm on your side. I think he's an idiot for not trusting you with shit like that, but as a therapist....I understand the realistic fear of rejection especially if you've lived in a world where that's mainly what you've been given. And from what you've told me about him it sounds like it is.”
Since I've known Ryder, I was one of the only things in his life that accepted him as he was. His parents always ridiculed him for not being enough. Teachers were harder on him because they couldn't help comparing him to Noah who aced their courses. Even his friends gave him shit for having a girlfriend he wasn't banging. I've always been more fortunate in that department. My parents were terrified of the idea of my business flopping but they stood by me. My best friend showed her support by lending me the funds. Hell, even though Gabe loathes the idea of Ryder and I as a couple he's offered to have us over for dinner because he loves his little sister.
“I need to get on the plane,” Katherine's voice invades my ears. “I'll call you when I get a chance.”
“Bring me back one of those special London shirts.”
“I will. Advice?”
“Always.”
“Work through this together. Meet somewhere in the middle and move forward on the same path. You and Xander stood on opposite sides as you inched towards a common direction. Don't repeat that mistake either. Get on the same road. Succeed or fail together.” She adds her best friend loves and kissing sounds before ending the call.
I slide my phone away with another defeated feeling. Watching the sun do it's best to be recognized in the distance I fear the person I've become without even realizing it. I was so worried about not turning into the groveling teenager again I started to act like the very person I left for being so callous. I'm not that woman. I don't like being alone. I love the little ways Ryder tries to take care of me. I guess, it never occurred to me I might need them. It helps he keeps orange juice in his apartment for me. It helps to grab it and the left overs he packed for me to take. It helps that when I'm showering, even though he should be getting ready for work, he still cuts up bananas and globs peanut butter on them. And if he can make my every day bullshit easier simply by carrying a load of laundry up the stairs, why won't I give him the opportunity to help me file paperwork after hours? To help me host movie night at the school?
“Baby,” Ryder calls over my shoulder before cautiously shuffling towards me. The moment he's in my vision he squats to be eye level. “You okay?”
His worry about my well being given the endless consternation he lives with furthers my own insecurities. Softly I question, “Can I go with you to your meeting tonight?”
The blue eyes I find myself falling more in love with every time I see them flicker. “Is that what you want?”
“I want us to be in this together,” I repeat Katherine's words. “I want us to be in the battle for keeping you clean, together. I want us to be committed to making our lives succeed together. The truth is Ryder, I need you as much as you need me, I'm just more afraid to admit it.”
When the corner of his lip pulls up he assures me warmly, “It's okay to need me, baby. I don't mind it. I...I love it. I love it as much as I love you. And I promise...I promise with everything I have I won't hurt you again.”
I softly touch his cheek. “Then let's move forward together. Let me come tonight.”
His knees hit the patio in surrender. “Done.”
Instead of saying anything else, he rests his head in my lap and allows my fingers to tug away the remaining tension. I never imagined things would be this difficult between us. I only hope at some point they start to become easier. If I'm completely honest with myself, I would rather spend another ten years fighting every day to have a love like this than give it up again.
Ryder
“Hello. My name is Ryder Collins, and I'm a recovering drug addict.” The announcement doesn't feel as empty as it once did. For the time the pain from the truth of it tingles down to the tips of my fingers. “I have done things that I am not proud of. I have betrayed those I love. I have lost those I love because of my addiction.” My eyes lock onto Presley's who is sitting beside Law in the back row. “It's difficult to wake up every morning and not reach for a bong. It's difficult to not grab a cigarette when I'm frustrated. It's difficult not to have a bump when I need a pick me up. But all of those things pale in comparison to how difficult it would be to continue to wake up every day with the inability to function because of them. All of those things pale in comparison to the beautiful woman who supports me every opportunity I give her. The days are easier than they used to be. I believe the days will continue to get easier as they go on. But what I know for sure is that I am alive and that is not a luxury to take f
or granted.”
Kara isn't. In the end it didn't matter that I saved her from that one moment because her mind was already made up about her fate. Mine is too. I'm choosing to keep working at this until getting it right becomes easier. Until my sobriety is no longer a question but an automatic answer.
The clapping at the end of my speech feels undeserved. My declaration doesn't feel like enough. It's merely a start. I exit from behind the podium as the group leader begins the closing lines. Slipping in the seat beside Presley, relief engulfs me the second her fingers graze my leg searching for my hand.
Once we're dismissed instinct sends my eyes searching for a face I'll never see again. The unreal attachment to someone I was barely willing to call my friend begins to tear at my sanity.