by Lynn Rider
I know by his cautious smile that I’ve let him down.
“Hey, Ralph.”
“Come on in here, son.” He leads the way down the hall, not waiting for my response. I follow him silently into an empty office and watch as he folds his old weathered body into a chair. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?” His voice is low but direct.
I lean forward, scrubbing my face with the palms of my hands. “I fucked up, and it’s left me feeling shittier than I can ever remember feeling in the end.” My eyes connect to his once again, and a soft smile tilts the hard edges of his wrinkled face.
“So you stumbled in your recovery?”
I let out a deep breath, “Stumbled? I fucking fell.”
“Tell me about your frame of mind.”
I sigh. “I don’t know what it was. I just fucking snapped and needed something to take the edge off.”
“The edge off of what?”
“Amber,” I reply simply. “Amber and I have known each other since we were kids. We started dating in high school and I’ve loved her since. Hell, I think I loved her before we ever dated.”
“So what happened?”
“Life,” I say through a watery laugh. “Our band started gaining traction, the fame, the groupies, the alcohol. The drugs. All of it. It seemed to take forever to take off, and then it just rocketed and I couldn’t keep up. I left Amber at home because she was in school. I didn’t listen to the pressures she was dealing with, and the rumors, the pictures… It all consumed her to the point where she thought she was better off without me and broke it off.”
“Was she?”
“No! Yeah. Hell, I don’t know.” I run my hand through my hair. “She was better off without that Austin. I was selfish, only worried about how my life was changing. When she told me it was over and avoided my calls, I was angry, but then the hurt came. I started smoking more weed, drinking more alcohol, anything to numb the pain. Eventually, I went on the harder shit.
“Then one day I got called to the record label executive offices and was told that I was going to rehab or the band was being cut. I managed to have one unselfish molecule left in me because I got in the back of a black sedan and went to the airport right then for a rehab facility in Southern California. I thought when I got out, everything would return to normal, but I didn’t know what normal was anymore. I didn’t have Amber, my brother took my spot in the band, and there was nothing for me. Life had moved on while I was living in neutral.
“I begged Amber, promised I’d make it up to her, and she believed me. We were both young enough to believe that despite the depression I’d found myself in, I was going to be okay. I wasn’t. We had an argument one night when she caught me drinking at a party. She left, I got high, and woke up the next morning with another woman in the bed next to me. Amber walked into that shit. I’ve let her down over and over and each time she’s supported me.” My heart physically pulls in my chest at the thought of her pain. “But this time I felt like I really had it together, but now she’s stopped supporting me.”
“She said that?”
“No, but she’s different. She somehow thinks it’s her fault that I’m such a fuck-up—”
“Do you think it’s her fault?”
“I used to,” I say, embarrassed by my confession.
“And now?”
“No! No, I don’t blame her.” I sigh. “I only blamed her because I was too selfish to blame myself. She loved me.”
“And what about now?”
“I don’t know. She stayed with me after my first two runs of rehab, eagerly eating up every one of my shallow promises of a life together. She’s stronger now, so I just don’t know anymore.” I sit back, defeated by the honesty and fear my own words cause. “She’s moving. Being transferred by her company. When I heard the news, I felt myself slipping. After a few drinks, it seemed logical to go over and convince her we’re meant to be.” I shake my head with disgust. “Obviously I didn’t think that through.”
“What are your intentions with Amber?”
“I want to give her what I promised when we were young. I want to take away all the bad—”
“Do you think you accomplished that by showing up under the influence?”
“No, I don’t. She couldn’t even look at me when I walked out.” I stand, pacing when the pain returns.
“Austin, if she were happy to see you in that form, I would say she’s no good for you. Do you think there’s any logic that her dismissal is a way of showing she cares?”
“You sound like her.”
“Sounds like you’ve figured out where you want to be, but you’re going to have to change your way of thinking to get there. Showing up at her door with a string of empty promises isn’t showing her—”
“They’re not empty promises! I want to make a life with her.”
“Wanting and doing are two very different things, Austin. She sees more of the same. Hell, just sitting here hearing it, I hear more of the same.” I glare his direction, my jaw grinding with tension. “What you did last night is extremely dangerous for an addict. Staying clean is an all or nothing proposition, so I must warn you that you’re sitting at the top of a very slippery slope.”
I nod, knowing enough about addiction to realize the truth in his words.
“How do you feel today?”
“I feel empty.”
“That’s the bitch of being like us. Our addiction hollows out a cavity in our hearts and souls, leaving us feeling that way. If we’re not careful about how we navigate through life, that void will consume us until it defines us. Don’t taint what you once had with Amber by turning her into an addiction.”
I look down at my watch and stand, knowing the next meeting is about to start.
“This is your story, Austin. You get to decide how it ends. Make it meaningful,” he says as I turn for the door.
I glance back and nod, before walking out.
“Hey,” I say hesitantly, looking around.
Meagan looks up from her tablet. “Hey, he’s not here. He’ll be back in a little bit. What’s up?” she asks innocently.
“I guess Ashton didn’t fill you in on what I did last night.”
Her smile drops as she gives a subtle nod. “I know about it. I also know the guys were all here this morning, so I’m sure what needed to be said has been,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Thanks.” I smile.
She returns my smile. “Austin, I’m here if you ever need someone to talk to.”
I sit back in the chair with a heavy sigh. “Thanks.” I quietly contemplate everything that was said last night, this morning, and by my sponsor. I control my path. Life is looking up, but only if I maintain control of it. “I’ve never loved anyone other than Amber,” I admit out loud.
Meagan’s head snaps up from her tablet. She locks the screen and sits it on the cushion next to her. “Does she know that?” she eventually asks, breaking the silence.
“I don’t know. I told her the other day at Kyle’s that I loved her, and she stepped away like I had slapped her. It hurt.”
“I don’t know your past, Austin, but I can say I fell for your brother hard and fast, even with the fear he would use me and toss me to the side. There was no stopping it. A heart wants what it wants. But I felt like I couldn’t rely on him to protect me from heartbreak so I had to protect myself. I ran because of who he was or who I thought he was. Running allowed both of us clarity to fix who we were separately before coming together. I’m certain we would have been doomed from the start without that time apart. I won’t say we haven’t had our challenges, but they’ve made us stronger, both individually and as a couple.”
“So you’re saying I should walk away?”
“I think you should concentrate on fixing Austin. Finding the healthy happy guy who’s in there should be your sole focus. You can’t help how you feel, but you have to make decisions that are healthy for you. And in return, you have to expect Amber’s doing the sam
e. So if that means stepping away, then that’s what you’re going to need to do. There’s no guarantee she’ll be there in the end, but you have to be strong enough that if she is, you’ll catch her when she falls.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, thinking about her words.
“I’m not done. That was my ‘friend’ hat talking. Now I’m putting on my ‘brother’s girlfriend’ hat. You better not let your brother down again. Three stints in rehab Austin. Three. It’s time to grow up and be a man.”
“Got it.” I stand and head off to bed.
Amber…
“That’s the last box, Miss West.” My eyes meet those of the large bearded man who hands me a clipboard. My eyes scan the stacks of cardboard in the corner of my new living room before signing.
“Thank you.” I smile kindly up at him as I hand back the paperwork. He nods and walks out the door, closing it quietly behind him. I sigh, one part relieved to have my things, and the other part overwhelmed at the enormity of the task ahead of me. I’ve been in Seattle for almost a week, and with this delivery I can move out of the hotel and start making my apartment a home.
I get busy on the first box, finding a place for everything before moving onto the next. I’m making a small dent in the stack when a soft tap on the door interrupts my strategizing on what to tackle next.
“Surprise!” my friend Emma says excitedly when I swing the door open. My smile widens and tears immediately form with the sight of my old college roommate. I gather her in my arms, overjoyed at having her here with me. I called her several weeks ago when I got final word of my transfer and arranged to move into her building. I was ecstatic to learn there was an available apartment across the hall.
“I’m so happy to see you!” I cry, holding on tight to her. “I thought you were out of town?” I step back and take a good look at my beautiful friend. Her dark hair is longer than before, but her natural beauty and the sincerity in her brown eyes is unchanged from the last time I saw her.
“I couldn’t let you move in without my help. Like old times. Remember moving into the dorm?” she asks fondly as she closes the door.
“Remember moving out of the dorm?” I ask dryly. “I don’t know how we fit all that shit in there.” I laugh.
“Speaking of shit, you’ve got a mess!” She surveys the stacks of cardboard.
“I know. I’ve been working on it for a couple of hours and felt like I was making progress until you put it like that.” We both laugh.
“Well, put me to work.” She smiles wide.
We spend the next two hours talking about Seattle, my job, and her job as a nurse. She hasn’t asked about Austin yet, but I know it’ll come.
“Do you want to come over for dinner?” she asks as she carries a box from the living room into the bedroom.
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”
“Amber, seriously, your apartment is a fucking wreck. We haven’t even found your pots and pans yet. Please, I want you to meet my boyfriend, Reeder.” She tilts her head sideways with a pleading look that I hadn’t realized I missed until now.
“Okay.” I smile.
“Good!” She claps her hands quickly, before tearing open the box at her feet. “Oh, good. Sheets! You’re lucky I found these or you’d be spending the night too.”
I pull into the apartment complex and park in front of my building. With my checkout from The Stanford complete, this is now home. A lump forms in my throat at the thought of home. I wipe my eyes as I quickly climb from the driver’s seat. It must be the hormones.
I pop open the back, pulling out the few bags of groceries I bought. Heeding my doctor’s warning, I only eye my suitcase, knowing it will have to stay put until my next trip downstairs. When I slam the trunk, I’m greeted with a set of crystal blue eyes framed by long, dark lashes. Despite the easy grin on his lips, his nearness startles me.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says with a deep rugged voice.
My gaze drops to the pink leash in his hand and quickly travel the length to see a small Yorkie clipped to the end. My eyes dart back to his and I’m instantly at ease when I see the slow grin form again. My lips edge into a smile until I’m laughing quietly. The dog turns in my direction and I break into full laughter when I see the pink bows clipped to its ears.
I press my lips together tightly, attempting to stop my laughter.
“I hope you’re laughing at me and not Muffin. She’s sensitive and gets her feelings hurt easily.” His playful tone carries the same casualness of his easy smile.
“I’m sorry to laugh, but damn if it doesn’t feel good.” I smile wide.
“I’m Reeder Merritt, Emma’s boyfriend. You must be the Amber she’s been talking nonstop about for the last month.” He swipes the dog off the asphalt. “Emma’s dog, Muffin.” He waves her paw at me and puts her back down. “Don’t ever tell Emma I doggy paw waved. She’ll never let me live it down.” He grins in a way that makes his already off the charts sex appeal skyrocket. He scoops the bags from my arms while handing me the end of the leash.
“Let me help you.”
“Thank you,” I say, urging the dog along with a gentle pull of the leash.
“Emma tells me you just moved from New York City. That’s fucking awesome!” he says over his shoulder as he leads the way up the stairs. “I’d like to live there, but I don’t know if Emma would consider it.”
“Yeah, it’s a great city,” I say wistfully, missing the people more than the city.
“What brings you to Seattle?”
“The Stanford. I work there.”
He glances over his shoulder with an impressed grin as he tops the stairs. I dig my keys out and open the door. He walks through the maze of boxes and puts the bags on the counter. “So why does it feel so good to laugh? Do you not laugh?”
My smile drops. “Not in a long time,” I admit quietly.
“Well, hopefully, we can change that.” His easy smile returns before walking toward the door and picking up the dog. “Emma says you’re coming for dinner. See you in a little bit.” He pauses before opening the door. “Oh, and Amber, welcome to the building.”
“Hey! I’m so happy you’re here. You can break a tie between me and Reeder,” Emma says as she opens the door of her apartment.
“Okay…”
“Broccoli or green beans?”
My eyebrows lift. “What?”
“She likes broccoli. I told her there’s something unnatural about eating miniature trees,” Reeder says playfully as he comes down the hallway with a guitar in his hand.
“You play?” he asks when he notices me looking at the guitar. My eyes snap up to his and then over to Emma’s briefly.
“No, not really. I learned a few songs a long time ago,” I say quietly as I mentally recall Austin spending countless hours with his old guitar, teaching me some of their earlier songs.
“Here, show me.” Reeder extends the guitar in my direction.
“No, I couldn’t. It’s been too long. I would sound horrible.”
“Seriously, I’ve had a few beers. I need a good laugh.” His crooked smile sets a challenge. I smile back through narrowed eyes and shake my head. “Muffin wants revenge.” He smiles before looking at Emma. “She laughed at Muffin today,” he says matter-of-factly.
“No, I laughed at the sight of you with Muffin.” I laugh again.
“Hah! I got you to laugh. Sadly at my expense… or was it Muffin’s?” He looks up, feigning thought. “Here, seriously, I can help you.” He pushes the guitar into my lap. I look to Emma for help and she shakes her head.
“Don’t look at me. You were the one drooling over it when he brought it out here. You asked for it,” she teases.
Reeder pushes it further in my direction and, reluctantly, I take it, sitting on the stool next to him. I recall Austin’s instructions in my head and place my fingers before playing a few chords. Within a couple of minutes, I’m feeling more confident and the sounds I’m producing have s
ome semblance of music. I still have Austin’s old guitar and occasionally pick it up and play, but it’s been years since I’ve played in front of anyone. Reeder looks pleased as I finish up the song.
“Holy shit! That was awesome. You know Silver Knight’s music. And some of the old stuff too!” he compliments.
“That was awesome, Amber!” Emma calls out from the other side of the counter.
Tears burn my eyes and a lump forms in my throat. I never expected Reeder to recognize my chop job of one of their songs. He must be a fan. “Can I use your bathroom?” I ask, handing the guitar back.
“Sure. As you’ve probably figured out, it’s in the same place as yours,” Emma says, referencing the exact floor plan of our two apartments.
I nod before standing, walking down the hall, and locking myself in the privacy of the bathroom to fall apart.
I hear the soothing sound of Reeder playing his guitar from the living room as I blot my eyes with some tissue and paste a smile on my face. I’m greeted with a warm smile from Emma and a wink from Reeder as he strums his guitar. He plays while Emma and I work in the kitchen together making dinner. It’s nice, new, but familiar at the same time.
“You haven’t told him about my history with Austin?” I ask, standing close to Emma.
“No, it hasn’t come up, but please don’t ask me to keep it from him. He’s the one, Am. He’s everything I need and want, wrapped in that hot package,” she says with a wistful smile.
I look back at Reeder sitting on the arm of the couch with his guitar propped on his lap playing and humming. I’m reminded of Austin as I take in the sight of him, eyes closed, playing while lost in the rhythm of the music.
“Whatever happened with you two?” Emma asks casually.
“Long story.” I sigh.
“Is it over?”
“Is it ever over?” My gaze drops to the salad I’m mixing.
“I’m here if you need me, Amber. You know that right?”
I smile weakly with a nod as Reeder comes to the counter. “Are you in a band, Reeder?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’s called Secret, but it’s not a very successful one. Maybe it’s too much of a secret.” He laughs.