Poison & Wine

by Melissa Toppen

  “Jace, I…” I have to stop myself from rambling the way I always do when I get nervous.

  I want to tell him that I don’t know how. That I’ve dreamt of kissing him a million times, but I’ve never actually kissed someone before.

  A low chuckle escapes his lips.

  “Relax.” His hand slides down the side of my face before his thumb darts out across my bottom lip.

  “I don’t know how,” I admit.

  “I’ll show you.”

  Before I have time to react, his lips press against mine. Warmth spreads through my entire body and I squeeze my eyes shut, relishing in the feeling. It’s hands down the best moment of my life and I never want it to end. Only it does, and way too quickly.

  Jace pulls back, his gaze locked on mine.

  “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time.” He smiles in a way that reaches his eyes.

  “Me too,” I shyly admit, my cheeks heating pink.

  I’m not used to this. This uncertainty, this nervousness that suddenly happens whenever I see Jace. Things used to be so easy. So simple. But lately, nothing feels simple anymore.

  “Have I ever told you how cute you are when you blush?” He tips my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. And then he does something I don’t expect. He kisses me again.

  His lips are so soft and warm against mine.

  “Stay with me tonight,” he murmurs, pulling back.

  “Okay,” I agree, knowing my mom will probably not notice that I’m not in bed. It’s not like she makes it a habit of checking on me. If she did, she’d have noticed how many nights I spend out here rather than in my room when it’s warm enough.

  I guess that’s one good thing about living in the south. It’s almost always warm enough.

  “Okay.” He tugs me toward him, my head settling on his bicep as he drapes his other arm around my middle.

  I don’t know how long we lay like that. How long I listen to the sound of his breathing before sleep takes me under. All I know is that if tonight ends up being some wild and crazy dream, I pray that I never wake up.

  Chapter Three

  JACE

  She looks beautiful.

  Fuck. Was she always so god damn beautiful?

  Her auburn hair is shiny and longer than the last time I saw her. And even though she doesn’t meet my gaze right away, her eyes downcast as she crosses the tiled floor toward me, I can see the deep green with specks of brown as if she were looking right at me.

  It’s been four years since I’ve seen her. Four years since I’ve heard the sound of her sweet voice or felt the comfort of her touch. Four years that I’ve spent in a blur of drugs and alcohol. I wish I could say I’ve spent the last four years missing her as much as she deserved to be missed, but the truth is I was too high to really feel much of anything. And when the pain of her loss did manage to filter in, I’d go on another bender to numb it all away.

  A fact I’m not proud of. But then again, isn’t that the point of all of this? To right my wrongs. To do the steps. To apologize to the one person that deserves it more than anyone else.

  I didn’t want to invite her here. I didn’t want her to see how far I’ve fallen. How many times I’ve failed and continue to fail. But Dr. Bennett thinks that my unresolved past with Oakley is a big part of why I keep ending up back here. Up to this point, I have downright refused to make her a part of this process. She left me, and rightfully so. I didn’t want to pull her back in. I didn’t want to look at her again after what I did to her.

  The night of the accident is burned so vividly in my mind. It’s one of the clearest memories I have. And after seeing her laying on the side of that road, not knowing if she’d live or die, I swore to myself that I’d get clean. For her. I waited there with her broken body until I saw the ambulance lights before fleeing the scene, knowing I’d be arrested.

  Less than two hours later, I was sitting on some random couch with a needle hanging out of my arm.

  I haven’t seen or spoken to her since.

  I can only assume she never told the authorities that I was driving. That I was there. If she had, I probably would be sitting in a jail cell right now. I’m not sure why she protected me. Why she didn’t tell them what I had done. Even at my worst, she still fought to keep me safe and out of jail. Though if I’m being honest, jail is probably exactly where I should be.

  I’ve done some terrible things, unspeakable things, things I deserve to pay for. And in a way, I guess I have been paying for them. Maybe not in the form of courtroom justice, but I’ve been living in my own personal hell instead.

  When I heard she had left town, it was almost a relief because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to hurt her like that again. Hurt her the way I knew I’d keep hurting her. Because that’s what I do. Or at least, that’s what I did. I’m trying really fucking hard to get my life together, but it’s a struggle. Every single fucking day.

  I hold my breath, my lungs burning by the time she reaches the round table where I’m sitting, my arms folded in front of me. She sets her purse down before sliding into the seat directly across from me, Dr. Bennett taking the spot to her right.

  And then it happens. She looks at me. And fuck if the last thirteen years doesn’t hit me like a series of waves, each one taking me deeper and deeper under water until I feel like I’ll never be able to find my way back to the surface.

  Her staring at me as we made love.

  Her laughter.

  Her smile.

  The way she always used to twist her hair around her finger.

  Memories pound through me.

  The last time we spoke.

  The first time I saw her.

  The countless nights we spent in that old rickety treehouse, talking and laughing. Dreaming about what our future would be like.

  Dr. Bennett begins to speak, but my jumbled brain doesn’t process a single word of it. I’m too distracted. Too consumed. Too overwhelmed by the sight of Oakley after all these years.

  “Jace.” The doctor’s voice cuts through the fog and I glance up, realizing she’s waiting on me to speak.

  I clear my throat, willing the right words to come out.

  “Hi, Oak.” Once I’m able to address her, my voice is unfamiliar, like someone else is speaking.

  “Jace.” She gives me a curt nod, her walls so far up I can barely see her over the top of them.

  I can’t blame her. Hell, if the roles were reversed, I’d probably have built a fortress between us.

  My chest tightens.

  “Thank you for coming.” I clear my throat again.

  “You said it was important.” She fidgets with the strap of her purse on the table between us, her stare void of any real emotion.

  God, I remember a time when talking to Oakley felt as easy as breathing. Now it feels damn near impossible.

  “I did,” I confirm. “It is.”

  “Well, I’m here,” she says after a too long beat of silence passes between us.

  I look to Dr. Bennett for guidance, not really sure where the hell to begin.

  “Jace has come really far in his recovery.” She shifts her focus to Oakley. “He’s going to meetings, writing in a journal, and doing all the necessary steps to work toward a life of sobriety. As I’m sure you’re aware, this is not the first time Jace has been with us. But he’s more determined than ever to make this stick, which is where you come in.”

  “Okay.” Oakley’s gaze bounces between Dr. Bennett and myself.

  “Jace has some things he’d like to discuss with you.” Dr. Bennett gestures toward me to take over. “I’m going to give you two a couple of minutes to talk privately.” With that, she stands to leave and I feel like the safety net has been ripped out from underneath me.

  I swear I can hear the tick of seconds as they click by, even though there’s not a clock anywhere in sight. The air is heavy, pressing down on top of me like a thousand-pound weight.

  “How… How are you?”

 
“I’m good.” She shrugs, seeming as unsure of herself as I feel.

  “You look good.” I shake my head. “Happy, I mean.”

  “I am happy. Really happy, actually.”

  The statement is bittersweet. Of course I want her to be happy, but knowing that happiness comes without me is a hard pill to swallow.

  I think a part of me had hoped she would be as miserable as I am. The selfish part of me anyway. Truth be told, all I’ve ever wanted was for Oakley to be happy. God knows she deserves it after everything I put her through. Doesn’t make it hurt any less though.

  Another long bout of silence stretches between us.

  Fuck, this is harder than I thought it would be.

  “How long have you been here?” she asks, breaking the awkwardness.

  “Seventy-six days.”

  “So you’re getting out in a couple of weeks then?” She does the math in her head.

  “Yep.” I pop my lips.

  “And what’s your plan? For when you get released? Are you going into some kind of sober living program?”

  “Actually, I think I’m going to go stay with my brother for a while.”

  “Tommy?” She pauses. “Is that… Is that such a good idea?”

  I’m not surprised by her reaction. Tommy has been battling some pretty big demons of his own for a very long time. But he’s finally got his life together. He’s doing well. He’s got a job and his own apartment. And truth be told, he’s probably one of the only people on this planet that has the power to keep me on the straight and narrow. Not to mention, he lives a good hundred miles from Parkview. And If I want any chance of staying clean this time, I need to break free and start somewhere new. Somewhere away from all the temptation and bad habits that I’ve fallen back into more times than I care to admit.

  “I know he’s had his issues, but he’s done the program. He’s been clean for a year. And I think it will do me some good to reconnect with him. Now that we’re both sober, that is.”

  I can tell she wants to say more, but for whatever reason she doesn’t. Honestly, I wish she would. It’s easier to talk about this than the reason I asked her here.

  Knowing I need to bite the bullet and say what I need to say, I pull in a deep breath.

  “There’s uh,” I stutter, glancing down at where my hands are folded in front of me on the table. “There’s obviously a reason I asked you here, some things I need to say. A lot I have to apologize for.”

  “Okay.” She shifts in her seat, waiting for me to continue.

  “I’m sorry,” I mutter the one thing I should have said a very long time ago. “I’m so fucking sorry, Oak. And I know that an apology doesn’t change what happened. That it doesn’t take back what I put you through. But I’m hoping it’s a start.” I take another deep breath and square my shoulders, forcing myself to look directly at Oakley. “I’m sorry for the lies. For the manipulations. For all the times you had to come out in the middle of the night looking for me. I’m sorry for making you worry. I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for disappointing you. And more than anything, I’m sorry for the accident. I never should have gotten behind the wheel that night. I wasn’t thinking. I knew I was high, yet I let you get in that car with me, all the while pretending I was in complete control. You trusted me and I betrayed that trust. And I nearly killed you.” I choke around the last two words.

  “Jace.” I watch her features soften. Watch the sweet girl I’ve loved for most of my life start to resurface before my very eyes. And I want to hate her for it. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve her pity or her forgiveness, yet here I am, asking for it anyway.

  “I know I’m no longer a part of your life.” I push forward, knowing if I don’t get all of this out now I may never. “I don’t deserve to be. The truth is, you’re better off without me. You always were. And I know you think this apology is for me, and while yes, making amends is part of the program, I’m not apologizing to unburden myself. I’m apologizing because out of all the people I’ve hurt, you’re the person that deserves to hear this the most. You deserve to know that you did everything you could. Hell, you did more than you should have. And this,” I gesture around the room, “all of this. Where I am today. What I’ve done. This is all on me.”

  “So that’s what this is about?” she asks after a long moment. “You think I carry some sort of misplaced guilt for the path you chose? And what? You’re trying to rid me of that guilt?” Anger seeps out in her words.

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I just know…you just…you were the person who was always there. The one constantly trying to save me. And I know you. Or well, I knew you. And the Oakley I knew felt responsible for me, even though I was never her responsibility.”

  “I didn’t feel responsible for you, Jace. I loved you. Everything I did. Everything I endured; the ups the downs, it wasn’t just for you. It was for me too. For the future we always said we’d have together. I wanted that future. I fought for that future. Hell, I nearly died for that future.”

  “I know. And I’ll never forgive myself for that. I’ll never forgive myself for how much I hurt you. How much I hurt myself by hurting you. But I have to find a way to make peace with it. Because I want this, Oak. I need this. I need this to stick this time. If I keep going like I have been, I’ll end up dead. Hell, I’m shocked it hasn’t happened before now. And as much as I hated the thought of you coming here, of you seeing me still in the same hell all these years later, I knew there was no possibility of success unless I could at least apologize. So thank you, for coming here, for agreeing to see me. You didn’t have to, and I know it couldn’t have been easy, but you did it. You did it for me.”

  “No, Jace, I did it for me. Because I needed this too. I needed closure. I needed to know that I made the right choice when I left four years ago. Being here has reaffirmed everything I already knew. My life is better without you in it. And I’m not saying that to hurt you. But as long as you’re being honest, it’s only fair that I do the same.”

  “No, I get it,” I admit, even though her words feel like a hundred knives penetrating my chest all at once. “Whatever the reason, Oak, I’m still glad you came. You could’ve ignored my letter. You could have thrown it away without reading it. So thank you. Thank you for showing up for me when I needed you to, even if it’s the last time you’ll ever do it.”

  “It is.” She glances down at her lap, then back up to my face. “The last time,” she tacks on after a moment. “If you need my forgiveness, you have it. If you need to hear me say I don’t hate you for what you did, I don’t hate you. I want you to get clean and stay clean. I want you to have a life, Jace. A real life. I want so many things for you. But after this, I can’t be a part of it. I just can’t.”

  “I know.” I swallow, my throat feeling like sandpaper.

  “Just do me one favor.” She leans on her elbows, her gaze locked on mine.

  “Anything.”

  “Don’t use our past or anything else as a crutch or an excuse to fall back into old habits. If you really want to prove to me that you’re sorry, then stay clean this time. That’s all I ever wanted.” The legs of the chair skid against the floor as she stands.

  “Oak,” I blurt, pushing to my feet.

  I need to look at her for another moment. Study the lines of her face. Take in all the ways she’s changed. Commit all of it to memory.

  This is probably the last time I’ll ever see her, and while the thought guts me, I know it’s what’s best. Maybe not for me, but definitely for her.

  A sad smile slides across her lips, and when she blinks I catch sight of the unshed tears building in her eyes.

  I want to pull her to me. I want to wrap my arms around her like I have so many times before. Bury my nose into her hair. Reassure her that everything is going to be okay. But I lost the right to do such things a very long time ago.

  “Goodbye, Jace.” Her words are so soft they barely break the surface, yet they feel like a car slammin
g into me at a hundred miles an hour.

  I stand motionless, frozen, unable to say or do anything but watch the only person I’ve ever truly loved turn and walk away.

  If I thought I knew grief. If I thought I knew loss and pain before now, I was kidding myself. Because this? This hurts worse than anything else I’ve ever endured.

  Maybe it’s because I’m sober.

  Maybe it’s because I haven’t seen Oakley in years, and seeing her now opened up some very deep wounds that I had thrown a Band-Aid over and forgotten about.

  Or maybe it’s because for the first time in a very, very long time, I’m realizing just what I had and what I carelessly threw away.

  They say time heals all wounds. But in my case, it feels like time continues to reopen wounds that have been festering right below the surface.

  I guess before you can heal, you have to kill off the infection. I only wish I had realized how fucking bad it would hurt to do.

  Chapter Four

  OAKLEY

  * * *

  “Hey, you’re back early.” Gianna steps to the side to let me into the house.

  “Yeah, my appointment didn’t take as long as I thought it would.” I smile when I catch sight of Ellie running toward me.

  “Mama.” She slams into me, and despite her petite size, she nearly knocks me over, her little arms wrapping around my legs.

  “Hi, baby.” I reach down and scoop her up, holding her close.

  After the day I’ve had, this is the only thing that has the power to make me feel better. To make all of this feel worth it.

  One day Ellie will ask about her dad. One day she’ll want to know everything. And when that day comes, I want her to know that I did all I could to help him. I never plan on her meeting him. Truthfully, I didn’t think he’d be alive long enough for it to matter. And maybe this is pessimistic of me to say, but I still don’t.

  I know Jace. And I understand addiction well enough to know that you have to really want it. And truth be told, I don’t know that he does.