by Frost, Sosie
My heart ached for him. “No one would ever pressure you.”
“You are.” His words stung. “You don’t get it. Everything that I ever liked has been bad for me. Everything pleasurable was literally toxic. The drugs. The drinking. And then there’s you.”
Another blow, but this one hurt more than the last. “Don’t compare me to heroin, Tidus.”
“Why the fuck not?” He laughed. “You’re everything to me. You consume me. You’re beautiful. Warm. Happy. Every minute I spend talking to you, holding you, burying myself inside of you is better than any poison I’ve ever injected into my body.”
It was the worst compliment I’d ever received, and I’d have done anything to prevent him from speaking it.
He was wrong…but he was right.
He’d lost himself…but he knew the right way.
He was lonely…
And yet he forced peace upon himself in the very worst way.
And while survived, he trusted no one, not even himself. He didn’t believe in forgiveness and refused to have faith in the ones he loved to help him if he fell. For as much as he hated himself, he loved his friends, his family…
I couldn’t bear the thought of him loving me.
“Is there…” I couldn’t look at him anymore. Couldn’t handle his eyes, the scruff of his jaw, the hint of a smile he so rarely offered. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No.”
“Can you do this on your own?”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
His expression darkened, shrouded by misery and rage. “Not anymore. Once, I had choices. Opportunities. Chances. I lost them all, Honey. Every single friendship. Every member of my family. This is all I have now, and I wish to Christ it wasn’t this way…”
He took my hand. Kissed it. Pressed it to his cheek as he fought to make me understand a decision I’d never comprehend.
“What we have is real,” I whispered.
“You better hope that it isn’t.”
The pain crushed me, but what good was it to fight, to cry…
To beg?
I had no right to take from Tidus what he refused to give. What he couldn’t give. We’d started something beautiful…but what was happiness if we couldn’t see it to the end?
“I wish I could help you,” I said. “I wish I could take the pain away, make it easier.”
“It was never going to be easy.”
I nodded. “Then I wish I could be with you while you do it.”
“I don’t.” His voice hollowed. “I hate that you saw me now.”
“Why?”
“Because this isn’t who I want to be.”
I shrugged. “The heart wants what the heart wants.”
“And look how easily it can be broken.”
Tidus returned to my side, lost and sullen in his own world—a world where no one else belonged. Didn’t matter if they were right, if they could help, or if they could just love him. He rebuilt his defenses with wall after wall until even he couldn’t find a way to escape.
“I wish I hadn’t met you,” he whispered.
My eyes stung, wet with tears. “You don’t have to hurt me.”
He kissed my hand and stole the last bit of warmth from me.
“I wish I hadn’t met you yet,” he said. “I wish we’d met a year from now. When I’d be a stronger man—the right man for you. But that isn’t me. Not yet.”
But he hadn’t asked me.
He couldn’t see past his own transgressions, and nothing I said, nothing I did, and nothing I promised would awaken the truth in him.
Tidus thought he was recovering.
He was wrong.
He didn’t have a drink in his hand or drugs in his pocket, but that didn’t make him impervious to mistakes. Instead he made more. Worse mistakes. He hated himself so much that he rejected kindness, help, and compassion as his own penance.
And it tore my heart to shreds.
“Are you sure you can do this on your own?” I asked.
“Yes. And I know I’ll succeed.”
“Why?”
“Because now I know exactly what I’m missing.”
He still didn’t understand. A tear rolled over my cheek, but it was lost in the spreading twilight, a darkness neither of us would ever escape.
“No…” I quieted. “Now you know exactly what you’ve lost.”
17
Tidus
The family usually got together for dinner on Friday nights.
For once in my miserable life, I’d put them first. Waited for them all to gather together so I could say goodbye. Seemed kinder than just leaving without a word.
I never liked returning home. I stayed there a lot, but it was always easier when I’d been drunk. The farm reminded me of everything I wanted to forget. The blackouts and addictions, the abuse and fighting.
But things had changed now. The family didn’t fight anymore. These days, they laughed and chatted. Had weekly dinners. Let the kids run around the farm and worked to give that new generation a better life than we had growing up.
I didn’t belong when I was younger—certainly wasn’t going to stay and ruin their happiness now.
I walked into the dining room late. Wasn’t unusual. They’d learned long ago to stop waiting for me before eating. Wasted a lot of good food and spoiled a lot of appetites that way.
The table burst with a fancy dinner, funny stories, and excited kids. Hardly recognized the place.
Julian saw me first, giving me the same nod with the same expression and same eyes as Dad. Always was the one who looked most like him. Now he claimed Dad’s seat at the head of the table, his wife, Micah at his side. She passed him his infant son, though Julian only spared the child a smile.
He knew why I was here.
Didn’t have to say it. Didn’t have to move.
He’d expected this a long time ago.
Marius sat at his side, hand entwined with Gretchen’s as she breathed through her second set of Braxton Hicks contractions for the week. The warrior was soon to turn into a daddy, but I had no doubt he’d handle it with the same ruthless efficiency he learned in the SEALs. Up at 0600 for diapers, feedings, and all that bullshit. Wasn’t how we’d ever imagined Marius, but he soothed Gretchen, rubbed her swollen tummy, and snuck her dog, Ambrose, a piece of turkey from the table. He’d settled into his new family just fine.
Varius struggled to say grace while a toddler climbed over his shoulders, kicking him in the ear. Glory extracted the little girl from his neck, but Lulu whined, cried, and pouted until V grabbed her once more and held her close. Seemed a damned miracle that V was finally happy again—though it was a worse sin that he’d ever gotten that depressed. Glory and Lulu had saved him before he’d lost himself forever.
Rem and Cassi had yet to sit down, chasing Rem’s nieces around the table as they struggled to sit the girls in their chairs and not inside the pot containing the mashed potatoes. The girls giggled just as much as Cassi. Nothing was more beautiful than my little sister’s smile. Rem saw it too. Admired it. Cherished it.
It was all I could hope for her.
Meanwhile, Quint nearly fell asleep at his chair, fork in hand. Micah poked him with a bread roll and he jerked awake. Never did keep his sugar in check.
Wondered when that would finally catch up to him.
I shouldered my bag and enjoyed the chaos for a long moment.
Only Spencer noticed me. He hadn’t touched his food. Usually when he wound himself up, I couldn’t tell if it’d burst out in anger or tears.
This time, it was fear.
“You’re leaving.”
Spencer’s accusation quieted the table, but the family was never good at silence. Even in the worst of times, we yelled, threw things, stomped over the floorboards.
This time, everyone sat still. First time in a long time that they paid attention to me.
I hated it.
; “Yeah,” I said. “I’m leaving.”
Cassi instantly realized the truth, but my baby sister was nothing if not an optimist. “Please tell me you’re leaving with Honey to go on the barbeque circuit.”
I didn’t answer.
Cassi kept trying. “Please tell me she’s charmed you, has you wrapped around her little finger, and you’re going to elope or something.”
I’d never lied to them before. Wasn’t gonna start now.
“I broke up with her,” I said.
That woke Quint up. So did the jab of insulin to his belly. He pocketed the syringe pen and came back to life.
“Christ, you’re such an idiot,” Quint said. “You’re never gonna find another woman who can cook like her.”
“I don’t care about her food.”
Quint sighed. “I did.”
Julian stared at me from Dad’s seat. Probably the best place for him. He had all of Dad’s good qualities and only some of the bad. I’d always figured one day he’d lead the family again. Not like any of us could corral the others.
My eldest brother didn’t understand anything that had happened on the farm when we were kids, but, somehow, he saw a hell of a lot more now.
“You’ve never passed up a free meal…or woman,” Julian said. “You’re a lot of things, Tidus. But you’re not an idiot. Why the hell are you throwing away the best thing that’s happened to you in years?”
The best for me? Sure.
But what about the best thing for Honey? For them?
“Not here to explain myself,” I said. “Just wanted you to know I’m heading out.”
Varius waved a hand towards an empty chair. Saving it for me? My brother suddenly suffered from an overabundance of faith.
“You could try explaining,” V said. “We’re here. Listening.”
“I can’t stay here. Gotta go figure shit out.”
The kids gasped. Damn. Too many little ones at the table. Oh well. Never too early to learn how to swear like a Payne.
Quint rarely got angry. When he did, it was at our expense. He wasn’t a kid anymore, even if he still acted like it. Part of his charm.
And usually that charm knew better than to start trouble with his older, bigger brother.
“Figure what out?” Quint asked. “Because this shit looks remarkably simple to me.”
Cassi frowned. “Come on, guys. There’s kids at the table.”
He pointed at me. “You’re worried language is going to corrupt the kids while Uncle Tidus stands there?”
I shrugged. “That’s me. A walking DARE campaign.”
“You want to leave? Fine. You don’t want to be a part of this family anymore? Fine. You want to go poison yourself every night? Fine.” Quint stood, staring me in the eye. “But don’t you let that woman go. Not when she’s the only thing in this world besides the drugs that makes you happy.”
He wasn’t wrong. But that didn’t mean I owed him an explanation. Didn’t mean they deserved the truth. Some things hurt less if left unsaid.
Glory gestured to Micah and began gathering the kids. “I think…we’ll go finish dinner in the other room, let you guys talk.”
“Don’t bother.” I turned to leave. “I’m not staying.”
Marius caught me before I could leave. He spun my ass into a chair, pitched a plate in front of me, and slopped a giant spoonful of mashed potatoes into the center. He pitched a fork at me. Wasn’t supposed to catch it. It nicked my chest and clattered into my lap.
“Eat your fucking dinner,” Marius said. “God only knows if it’ll be your last one.”
“Come on, kids…” Micah took her baby, Rem’s nieces, and Lulu, herding them towards the living room. “You too, Spencer.”
“I’m not moving.” Spencer crossed his arms. “Not until Uncle Tidus tells me why.”
Cassi scolded him, but she allowed him to stay. “Tidus, what happened? Honey was so perfect for you.”
Julian hadn’t stopped eating. His fork was the only one still clinking against a plate. “She’s the smart one. Probably realized he wasn’t worth the stain on the bedsheets.”
I chuckled. “You always knew me best.”
Quint swore. “What the hell are you doing, Tidus? She was great for you. She actually tolerated you. Christ, I think she might have loved you!”
My patience wore thin. “Don’t you think I know that? I know how fucking perfect she is.”
Cassi wove her fingers into her hair. “Then why? Why break up with her?”
“What am I supposed to do with a girl like her?” I asked.
“You could get better,” Cassi said.
Varius agreed. “Fix your problems.”
“Get healthy,” Marius suggested.
“Start a f—family.” Gretchen worked her way through the false labor.
Julian shrugged. “Take care of your shit.”
Rem cut through the bullshit. “Make amends for the past.”
Quint finally said it. “You could get clean, Tidus. Before you kill yourself with any drug you can find.”
All that hard work.
All the days I spent puking my guts out.
All the nights I spent shivering in cold sweats.
Every single red X on that calendar from the last day I touched that poison until now.
All for fucking nothing.
What was the point of getting clean if no one could tell the goddamned difference?
Or maybe this was as good as it got? Maybe it wasn’t the drugs, alcohol, and behavior they didn’t like.
Maybe they just hated me.
I stood, pulling the newest chip out of my pocket. Didn’t do me any good now. I tossed it onto the table, letting it spiral next to the turkey. My family silenced.
“For Christ’s sake…” I heaved an unsteady breath. “I am clean.”
Nothing.
My family’s stunned silence revealed everything I’d always feared.
So much for the work I’d done, sacrifices I’d made, and pain I’d suffered.
Only Spencer didn’t seem to be surprised. He returned to his food, smashing his turkey into tiny shreds with his knife. I’d disappointed him enough. The instant he’d speak would be like ramming the knife through my heart.
I battled against my own bitter disappointment.
“Guess I am that much of a piece of shit,” I said. “No one can even tell that I’ve changed.”
Cassi picked up the chip and squeezed it in her hand. “You’re…you’re sober?”
“Haven’t had a drink since Max’s baptism.”
Julian’s shocked silence vindicated me. He leaned forward. “You got sober because of Max?”
“Sure. For Max. For you. For Cassi. For everyone.”
Rem collapsed in his seat. He took the chip from Cassi, but even my best friend had nothing to say.
Just reaffirmed everything I’d already knew.
They were tired of me. Fed up with my behavior. I couldn’t disappoint them any more, and now, I’d destroyed so much of our relationships they couldn’t even tell when I was healthy.
I grunted. “Surprise.”
Cassi leapt from the table and into my arms. She crashed into me, arms around my neck.
Fuck. I’d made her cry.
Lost track of how many times I’d done that in her life.
“My God, Tidus!” She stared at me, her dark eyes brimming with tears. “I’d always hoped…but I never thought you’d actually…” She slapped my chest. “You didn’t say anything!”
I liked the hug. Liked even better seeing my baby sister smile.
But I pushed her away.
“Don’t get so excited,” I said. “Christ. Don’t be proud of me. Look at you. You’re fucking crying. Why should anyone be this happy that I’m not stoned off my ass or falling on my face, drunk in the street? What kind of family is this?”
Varius offered me something to drink only to realize the glass was filled with wine. He apologized and moved it away.
“We’re a family who loves you,” he said.
“No.” I refused to take any comfort in his words. “You’re a family who saw the truth. I’m a mistake. I’m a fucking mess. And that’s my fault. I don’t blame any of you. But I’m not gonna lie to myself anymore. I’m leaving.”
Quint didn’t understand. Would probably never understand. “But why? You’re doing so good—”
“This isn’t good!” My voice rose. “Jesus. This is so far from fucking good I should still be drowned in a gutter. I’m not even where I should be—not even able to stand in this room smelling the beer without my hands trembling.”
I held my shaking hand out for them to see. Cassi grabbed it, cradling my fingers in hers. She turned, nodding for Quint to clear the table.
“Stop,” I said. “Doesn’t matter now. I’m just telling you—I’m sober, but I’m not better yet. I’m getting there, but I can’t do it here. I gotta be on my own. Can’t have you all around helping me or watching me or cheering me on.” I pulled away from Cassi. “This isn’t a process or a journey. It’s a fucking war. You’re either strong enough to survive, or you’re weak and fail. And I swear to whatever God might be listening, I might be a piece of shit, but at least I won’t blame it on the drugs.”
Julian sighed. “Never knew a man who thinks so lowly of himself and uses it as a source of pride.”
I snorted. “Sure, you did. His name was Dad. I got that part of him. Not sure how.”
Rem tried his luck. “No reason for you to go now. You’re already sober. Didn’t have to join a logging company to do it.”
He knew as well as I did that sobriety wasn’t a goal but the first sucker-punch in the bar-fight that was life. But that was the difference between us. I died by the truth. He’d lie to save himself.
Cassi rubbed her head. “I don’t understand. Why are you leaving? Why do you always push us away? We’ve only ever wanted to help you.”
“There’s nothing you can give me.”
Quint got pissed. He kicked away from the table, upsetting the dishes. His beer spilled, and one of Mom’s old vases tipped over and cracked. Freshly picked flowers spilled over the table and into the asparagus. From the other room, every baby began to cry.