“Admitting we are powerless over our addiction. Believing that a power greater than ourselves can restore sanity. Deciding to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God. Making a fearless moral inventory of ourselves.”
“What’s that one mean again?” I ask, just wanting to understand everything he’s had to do and everything he’s still doing in an effort to turn his life around.
He indulged me the first time I asked him to run me through the ‘Twelve Steps’ but having not really understood most of what they entail, I want more detail this time.
“I had to write everything I’ve ever done down. The good, the bad, the downright ugly. And the next step is admitting to God and myself and to another human being the nature of my wrongs. Meaning, I had to say it out loud to someone else.”
“Who did you admit your wrongs to?”
“Tommy.” He shifts next to me, his hand going into my hair as he mindlessly twirls a strand around his finger. “That was one of the hardest parts. Being completely transparent with someone. Owning up to everything I had done. It was easier with him because he understood the difficulty in this step, but it was still painful as hell. It's in our nature to downplay and make excuses, but this process doesn’t allow for that. That’s why it says fearless. You have to be fearless in your admission. You have to be brutally honest. And for someone who’s spent a very long time fucking things up, admitting to all those things was worse than I thought it would be. But once I did it, once I said it all out loud and forced myself to face it, I felt a weight I hadn’t realized I was carrying lift from my shoulders. That was probably one of the best and yet most trying days.”
“I can’t imagine doing something like that. Facing everything.”
“It wasn’t easy.” He turns his face, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.
“Keep going.”
“Okay, where was I?” He thinks over what he’s already listed. “You are entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.”
“How does that work? You’ve never really been much of a believer in God.”
“It’s not about God, per se. It’s about believing in something bigger than yourself, in whatever form that is. I had to turn it all over and accept there is this higher power. And that takes us into number seven, asking that higher power to remove our shortcomings. Number eight was probably one of the more challenging parts for me. Making a list of all the people I had harmed and be willing to make amends to them all.”
“That’s why you asked me to come see you in rehab.”
“It is.” I feel him nod against me. “Step nine is making direct amends to the people we hurt.”
“What’s ten again?”
“Continuing to take personal inventory and when I’m wrong, promptly admitting it.”
“That’s a big one.”
“It is. But being able to step back and see the bigger picture is liberating. Every night I run through all my triggers, the things I know drive my addiction. If I did something, if I behaved a certain way, I make a mental note not to do it again. It’s all about breaking habits and distancing myself from my addictive behavior.”
“I can’t imagine doing that every single day.”
“It keeps me accountable. It’s all about being honest with myself.”
“Eleven is prayer and meditation, right?”
“Yes, it’s all about maintaining a relationship with your higher power.” He pauses. “And then step twelve is having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps and to practice these principals in our everyday lives.”
“That’s a lot to remember. You seem to have it down,” I observe, guessing at this point he’s probably memorized every step and what it means word for word.
“At first it’s a little overwhelming. But once I found that peace I was desperately looking for, and I really committed and started doing the steps, I was able to see why I was never successful in recovery before. Because this time I didn’t just go through the steps, I lived them. And I will continue to live them every day for the rest of my life.”
“I’m really proud of you,” I admit, tilting my head to look up at him. “I know none of this has been easy, yet here you are, living your truth. You don’t know how many times I wished for this. How many hours I’ve prayed for it. And now here you are.”
“And I’m not going anywhere. I didn’t fight for you when I had the chance and as a result, I lost you and missed out on the first three and a half years of our daughter’s life. I know that none of this magically fixes everything between us. But I hope it can be a starting point to the life we were always meant to have.”
“Me too,” I quietly admit, resting my cheek on his chest.
I don’t want to get my hopes up. I don’t want to throw all caution to the wind and dive in head first, but I also can’t deny how badly I want this. How badly I’ve always wanted it.
Nothing has made sense since I lost Jace. Nothing has ever felt whole. There’s always been something missing. A piece of me that still resided with him. And now that he’s back, now that he’s here lying next to me, saying all the things I’ve spent the last four years dreaming I would get to hear, suddenly everything feels right.
But that doesn’t mean I’m not scared. Because I’m terrified. But I can’t let fear hold me back any longer. Not if it stands in the way of this. Of me and Jace. The way it was always meant to be.
We lay in silence for several long moments. I relish in the sound of his heartbeat drumming against my ear and the feel of his chest as it rises and falls with each breath he takes. I swear I could stay here forever, in this little bubble. I don’t want to let the real world back in. I don’t want to face the challenges that I know are to come. I want it to be like this… Always.
“Do you hear that?” Jace lifts his head and looks down at me.
“Hear what?” I ask moments before I hear a faint knock.
“Is someone knocking on your door?”
“I can’t imagine who it would be.” I sit up before tossing my legs over the side of the bed and standing. Grabbing my robe off the back of the door, I peer my head into the hallway as I hear the knocking again, a little louder this time. I look back to where Jace is now sitting up in bed, the sight of him messy haired and bare chested doing some crazy things to my insides. “I’ll be right back,” I tell him as I exit the room.
When I reach the foyer, I can see someone standing on the front porch through the thick paned decorative glass that lines either side of the door, though I can’t tell who it is.
Sliding the deadbolt, I crack the door open, more than a little taken aback when I see Lance standing on the other side of it.
“Lance?” I croak, not trying to hide my surprise. “What, what are you doing here?” I tighten my robe as I pull the door open the rest of the way.
“Shit, did I wake you?” He takes in my appearance. “I know you worked last night but you’re usually up by now.”
“No, it’s okay.” I shake my head, glancing behind me to make sure Jace is still in my room. “Did you need something?”
“I, um,” he grips the back of his neck, looking oddly uncomfortable, “I just wanted to see you. Do you think maybe I could come in for a few minutes? Just to talk.”
“Now really isn’t a good time.”
“I won’t take up much of your time. It’s just… I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately and well, I miss you.”
“Lance, I…” the words die on my lips when his gaze shoots behind me, his forehead crinkling in confusion. “I didn’t realize you had company,” he fumbles, taking a couple of steps backward.
I turn my head, catching sight of Jace as he steps into the foyer. His eyes go from me to Lance and then back to me.
“Who’s this?” Jace asks, nodding toward Lance.
As much as I don’t want to do this right now, I am thankful that he had the forethought to put a shirt and pants on.
“Uh, Lance,” I say,
gesturing to the man standing on my front porch looking like someone sucker punched him in the stomach. “Lance, this is Jace.” I don’t miss the way his eyes go wide or the flush that fills his cheeks.
“Jace?” he questions, looking at me like I’ve suddenly grown another head. “As in Jace, Jace?”
Not exactly how I envisioned announcing to the world that we were kind of back together, but it’s not like it’s really in my control at this point.
“Yes.” I nod. “Jace, this is my friend, Lance,” I tell Jace before my eyes go back to Lance.
“Your friend?” He takes another step back like my words hit him with physical force. “Is that what I am now?” His eyebrows draw together, his focus locked on me.
“I’m gonna… I’m gonna give you two a minute,” Jace says seconds before I hear his bare feet pad against the hardwood floor.
“What the hell, Oakley?” Lance hisses as soon as Jace is out of earshot. “What the hell are you thinking? Jace? Seriously?”
“I’m thinking that it’s none of your business.” I cross my arms in front of myself. “I’m pretty sure we broke up. Or did I imagine that happening?” I don’t mean to be so curt, but his reaction has really struck a nerve with me.
“Eight months.” He shakes his head. “We dated for eight months and this is how you’re going to treat me.”
“How am I treating you?”
“You pushed me away because I didn’t support your ridiculous decision to let him stay here. And now look at you. How long did it take before he was in your bed? One day? Two? Looks like I really did have a reason to be concerned.”
I step out onto the porch as I pull the door closed behind me.
“One.” I hold up a finger. “We are not together so who I sleep with is none of your business. Two, you made it pretty clear where you stood and so did I. I thought we had agreed that us being together wasn’t working.”
“No, you agreed. I was just angry that you moved your ex-boyfriend, who happens to be a drug addict, into your garage. I thought I’d give you some time. Let things settle. A lot of good it did me, huh? You were probably sleeping with him before the smell of my cologne had faded from your sheets.”
I balk at his comment.
“How dare you.” I point my finger at him.
“How dare I? How dare you. I can’t believe you’d do this. Let him back into your life like nothing happened.”
“Again, how is any of this your business? It doesn’t matter why we broke up. The fact is that we did. I didn’t cheat on you. I didn’t mislead you. If you thought there was a chance we might get back together, that’s on you. I never gave you any reason to believe that would be the case.”
“Did you ever really care about me?”
“What kind of question is that? Of course I did. I do.”
“Yet how quickly you were able to discard me. And for him of all people.” He gestures to the door behind me.
“I didn’t leave you for him. Why are you insinuating that I did?”
“Because from where I’m standing, that’s exactly how it looks. You pushed me away to clear a path for him. And boy he didn’t waste any time swooping in to take my place, did he?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I? Because I’m pretty sure I see things a hell of a lot more clearly than you do right now.” He balls his fists at his sides. “Why him, Oakley?”
“I don’t expect you to understand.”
“You’re right. I don’t understand. I don’t understand how you could let yourself be fooled by him, yet again. And to drag Ellie into this. Are you forgetting that he nearly killed you?”
“I’m not forgetting anything. I know who he is.”
“Then you shouldn’t be surprised when he fucks you over just like he did before.” His language sets me back a bit. I’m not used to him speaking to me this way. “Only this time you’ve put that sweet little girl in the crossfire.”
“That sweet little girl is his daughter. And he has a right to know her,” I argue, not sure if I’m saying it for his benefit or for my own.
I only just came to the decision to allow Jace the chance to be a part of Ellie’s life, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t uneasy about it. That I wasn’t second guessing myself at every turn. But this is what feels right to me and for now, that’s enough.
“Being a sperm donor doesn’t make him a father. Where has he been for the last four years? Oh that’s right, with a needle in his arm,” he spats, his nostrils flaring.
“Go home, Lance.” I decide to end this before I say something I can’t take back.
Lance is a good guy. A great guy, actually. And I hate how quickly things have gone south between us. But what I’m dealing with right now has nothing to do with him. It never has.
“If that’s what you want.” He holds his hands up. “But don’t even think about calling me when this all blows up in your face, because I will not be there to pick up the pieces.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I snarl, letting my emotion get the better of me.
“Good luck, Oakley.” He backs down the steps. “You’re going to need it.” With that, he spins around and heads to his car that’s parked on the side of the street.
I watch him climb inside and am still standing on the porch when he drives away moments later.
“Everything okay?” Jace is in the kitchen when I reenter the house, a bottle of water clutched in his hand.
“Define okay.” I blow out a breath.
“So that was the boyfriend.” He nods toward the door.
“Was being the operative word.”
“Makes sense.”
“What does?”
“You and him. I can see why you liked him.”
“How? You had about thirty seconds of interaction with him, and let’s be honest, it wasn’t his finest hour.”
“He’s hurting. I get it.” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “He thinks I’m going to hurt you again.”
“He does.”
“Do you think I’m going to?”
“No,” I lie.
“Oakley.” He gives me a knowing look.
“I mean, I hope you won’t.”
“I know I don’t deserve it. To be in your life. To be in Ellie’s life. But I swear to you.” He sets his bottle of water on the kitchen island before making his way toward me. “I swear to you, I’m not going to fuck it up this time.”
“I’m going to hold you to that, you know?” I smile when he tugs me to his chest and slides his arms around me.
“Good. I hope you do,” he murmurs against my hair before pressing a kiss to the side of my head. “I’m going to get going.” He steps back. “I want to hit up a meeting and the last one today is at five.”
“Okay, I need to take a shower and go pick up Ellie anyway.” It feels weird talking about her so casually in front of him.
“Do you think maybe I could meet her later?”
“Not today.” I shake my head, knowing I’m not ready to take that step just yet. “Give it some time, okay?”
“Okay.” He nods, being a hell of a lot more patient and understanding than I would be if I were in his shoes. Leaning forward, he traps my chin between his thumb and index finger, turning my face up. “If you get lonely later, you know where to find me.” He winks, a smile gracing his lips.
“I wouldn’t count on it. Pretty sure I’m going to sleep like the dead tonight. Thank God I don’t have to work. I barely got any sleep today… Thanks to someone.”
“Not gonna apologize. Best day I’ve had in a very long time.”
“Me too.” I hate to agree with him, but what else can I do? It’s the truth.
“Tomorrow then?” He sweeps his lips across mine.
“Maybe.” I smile, wrapping my arms around his neck as he moves to deepen the kiss.
“I can deal with maybe,” he murmurs against my lips before pulling away. “I’ll see you late
r.”
“Okay.”
I watch him head toward the back door, tugging it open seconds later. Turning, he pauses in the doorway. He doesn’t say anything. He just stands there staring at me like he can’t believe I’m actually here. Funny, I know exactly how he feels.
After what feels like minutes have passed, but is likely only seconds, he turns and exits the house.
Chapter Twenty-Two
OAKLEY
* * *
I’m not sure what I’m doing. I’ve talked myself in and out of this for the last hour and after I finally settled against it, I completely changed my mind.
I make my way toward the door of the garage apartment, a million butterflies flapping around wildly in my stomach.
I had always hoped the day would come when Ellie would get to meet her father. And not the strung-out junkie he had become, but her real father. And now that the moment is here, I feel twisted in knots, still unsure if I’m doing the right thing.
“Mama.” Ellie tugs on my hand. “Da car is dis way.”
“I know, baby.” I smile down at her, tugging on the ends of one of her braided pigtails. “But I thought maybe a friend of mine could go to the park with us today. Would that be okay?”
“Aunt Kiki?” she asks hopeful.
“No, not Aunt Kiki. It’s my friend, Jace.”
“Wace,” she repeats.
“No, baby. Jace,” I correct, pronouncing his name again.
“Wace,” she repeats like she said it right the first time and doesn’t know what my problem is.
“Right.” I laugh, shaking my head at her. “He’s staying in the garage apartment for a while. I thought it might be nice for him to get outside and enjoy the nice day.”
“Okay.” She shrugs, leaning down to pluck a small white flower out of the grass before twirling the stem between her little fingers.
I watch her for a moment before crossing the remaining distance to the door. I hesitate, looking back at my daughter and then again to the door.
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