Look After Me (41 page)

Even though I know she’s right, hearing her words only make me angrier and I suddenly turn around, taking my frustrations out on her. Frustrations that only confuse me. “Leave, walk away. Just fucking go if that’s what you want. Go.”

She blinks, shocked at the tone of my voice and perhaps a little terrified by my death glare. “Sebastian—”

“Just go.
Please,
” I say with more emotion than intended, my voice breaking up.

She smiles sadly, her eyes moistening with unshed tears. After a moment, she sucks in a deep breath and begins to make her way towards the door. Just as I’m turning my back to her, unable to watch her walk out of my life, she speaks, “I love you, Sebastian. I just hope that one day you get to say those words to somebody special because you truly deserve to be happy. You deserve to be in love. Just be sure it’s somebody who deserves you.”

And then she’s gone.

The moment I hear the front door close, the rage I’ve managed to keep contained snaps suddenly and I lose control, angrily destroying everything within my reach. Through the midst of broken glass and destroyed furniture, my eyes fall on a broken picture frame that has a picture of Lily-Mai inside. My heart lurches and I hate myself for allowing her to get mixed up in my rage. I reach for it, wincing as shards of glass cut into my skin when I remove the photo from the frame. Dropping to my knees, I look down at the perfection that is my daughter on her first birthday, and emotion from deep within me tears through me as the magnitude of my guilt churns at my gut.

Guilt
for letting my daughter down.

Guilt
for being a failure.

Guilt
for being a useless son of a bitch.

I have to slam my eyes shut when the motherfucking tears begin to fall. As sobs rack violently through me, I force myself to look at the image of my daughter smiling, and a teardrop falls on the photograph. This anger, this hatred, this constant inner torture has to end.

I need
to let go of all this negativity.

I need
to free myself of the pain and hatred.

I need
to stop blaming Ava for my drug addiction and finally start taking responsibility for my own actions.

I need
to stop burying my addiction with substance, sex, and adrenalin. And instead of hiding behind it like a fucking coward,
I need
to face it head on.

I need
to destroy every last inch of it until it doesn’t exist.

I need
to take time out and really evaluate who I am because somewhere along the line, I’ve lost touch. I desperately need to find myself again; the old me before drugs and anger became the very part of me.

I need
to let go and find my inner peace.

And I need
to get over Ava once and for all.

TODAY IS CHRISTMAS EVE and I’ve been preparing dinner for my family. Since the incident with Ava, things have resorted back to Caleb dropping Lily off. Thanks to Caleb’s referee abilities, we came to an arrangement that I would have Lily on Christmas Eve and Ava would have her on Christmas Day. Of course, I would have preferred to have Lily on both days but we had to reach a happy medium somewhere and that was ours.

The distance thing is working out great. It’s helping me work through the healing process quicker than I could have imagined. I wouldn’t go to the extent of saying I’m over Ava, but it hurts less and less each day. That’s not to say I’m not hurting; I am, and some days it’s unbearable. But it seems when I’m not thinking about Ava, I’m thinking about Addison, and the numbing I feel in the center of my chest, tells me just how much I miss her. Two weeks ago, Ava consumed my every being. But the moment Addison walked out of my life, my inner thoughts gradually began replacing Ava with Addison until the majority of my day is spent thinking of Addison. I wonder where she is. Is she still here in Seattle, spending Christmas with her folks? Or is she in California, beginning her epic new life?

I hate that she’s no longer a part of my life. I hate that every moment I think of her, I miss her.

I miss
her smell.

I miss
her smile.

I miss
the way she adds something psychological into her sentences, unable to switch off the counselor within her.

I miss
our appointments.

I miss
the sex—the
mind-blowing
sex.

I miss
everything.

During the past two weeks, I’ve struggled immensely with increased cravings and today is no different. I know I have the strength to fight it; I’ve proved it on more than one occasion. But it’s exhausting trying to keep my mind occupied at all times, trying to keep the cravings at bay. It’s constant. An everlasting disease gnawing at my insides, keeping me riddled with a high dependency of cocaine that makes my head rattle with pure insanity. It’s physically and mentally draining.

I may not have relapsed, but the underlining problem is still there and has intensified since Addison left. I need to find a way to control it—rationally—without the aid of other distractions; a habit I’ve become well accustomed to since I left rehab back in September. I’ve buried my addiction with alcohol, sex, and almost killing myself at the gym and not a single one of them are healthy ways of coping. I’m just inviting other unnecessary evils to emerge and set in and I definitely don’t want to add anymore to my overcrowded plate.

Realizing the problem wasn’t going to fix itself, after canceling twice on the counselor Addison proposed I see, yesterday I finally relented and saw Vivian. She saw me on short notice—which I was truly grateful for—and after delving into my life story with her, and discussing my addiction in full depth, it was under her recommendation that I go back to rehab for thirty days.

So tomorrow, on Christmas Day, I’m heading to a rehab facility in South Seattle. I just have to tell my family who have come all the way from North Carolina to spend Christmas with me.

I’ve discussed this with Jacob, and he was a hundred percent behind me and told me my job would still be waiting for me when I returned. After missing two days of work when I almost drank myself into a coma, I realized in order to keep my job I was going to have to come clean. After meeting him at a local coffee shop, I admitted to him that I was a recovering cocaine addict and that I almost relapsed. He was incredibly understanding; more so than I originally gave him credit for. Even though he’s an absolute asshole with women—
the
player of all players—he’s a pretty decent guy and an even better boss. I was also worried about telling him how I got arrested and that I was waiting for my court date hearing, but just before I headed out to meet Jacob, my lawyer called. The court hearing had been thrown out for insufficient evidence. I don’t know how or why, I’m just thankful I don’t have a criminal record. But I swear, if I ever see that douchebag again, things will get ugly.

“You okay, bud?”

I turn my attention to Caleb, realizing I’ve been staring at the turkey I took out of the oven five minutes ago, lost in thought. My hands are still attached to the roasting pan, the heat now seeping through the pot holders and scalding my fingertips.

“Shit!” I move to the sink and let my fingers run under the cold water for a moment, the coolness soothing the burn. “Sorry, man, I was miles away.”

“You’re thinking about her.”

“Who, Ava?” I ask, wondering why the hell he’s bringing her up for.

He shakes his head with a knowing smile on his face. “No, not Ava. Addison.”

My heart slams against my chest at the mention of her name. I couldn’t deny it even if I wanted to. “Busted,” I say with a humorless smile before adding, “I’ve also got other shit going on. My head is kind of fucked.”

He leans against the countertop, crossing his arms in front of his chest as I continue to let the cool water sooth my burn. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Actually, yes, but I kind of need to talk to everybody about something. So instead of hashing it out twice, I’d prefer to talk to everybody during dinner if that’s all right?”

He claps me on the back with a look of understanding on his face. “Of course. Do you need any help here?”

Pulling my fingers from the water, I grab a kitchen towel from the side to wipe my hand with and chuckle when I look at the mess of food in front of me on the counter. It’s safe to say I’m a messy worker when I’m in the kitchen. “Yes,
please.
”

As Caleb helps me with the last touches to the Christmas dinner, I briefly glance at Caleb’s boyfriend, Landon, who is currently playing peek-a-boo with my daughter. “So how are things going with Landon?”

“Things are good,” he says, keeping his response clipped.

I give him an incredulous glare when his tone doesn’t match the excited gleam in his eyes. “You’re lying.”

His head jerks back and for a split second I see a flash of anger in them. “What do you mean I’m lying?”

“I mean, you’re not telling me the truth. You’re holding back. Look, I know I’m a bitter bastard when it comes to love, but you don’t have to shield your feelings to avoid offending me. Just spill.”

His lips turn up and his eyes flash with excitement again, breathlessly laughing. “Okay, things are better than good. Things are great. He’s pretty incredible. I think he might be the one,” he whispers, obviously not wanting Landon to hear.

I smile. “That’s awesome. I’m really happy for you, man. Have you told him how you feel?”

“No,” he sighs. “I don’t want to rush things, you know? I’ve seen how badly relationships can turn out, how ugly things can get, and I just want to take my time.”

Nodding in the direction of Landon, I say, “Well, I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about. I can already tell he’s crazy about you. He can’t stop looking at you. And he wouldn’t be here having dinner with your family if he weren’t in it for the long haul.”

“Family?” He smiles, obviously touched by my words.

I give a gentle nod. “Yeah, you’re like the brother I never had. And I know your loyalties lie with Ava, but I don’t know what I’d do without you, man.” I give him a brotherly slap on the back.

He laughs. “If I weren’t such a macho gay guy, I’d totally cry right now. That was moving, Gilbert, really.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, I laugh. “Macho my ass. Ava told me you cried numerous times during
Marley & Me and
Titanic.
”

“Who used to cry during
Marley & Me?
” Landon asks before Caleb has a chance to respond. He’s standing a foot away with a fussing Lily in his arms.

“This girl right here.” I laugh, clapping Caleb on the back again before taking Lily from Landon, her fussing stopping immediately the moment she’s in my arms. “Hey, gorgeous, what’s with all the fussing?” I say to Lily before turning my attention back to Caleb.

He groans, with a smile plastered on his face. “I can’t believe she told you that.”

“That’s not everything,” I begin. “She also told me that you once waxed your balls for a bet. Oh, and how you once followed a guy from ‘NSYNC for two hours straight, and when you finally found the courage to ask for his autograph, it turned out it wasn’t even him.” His face pales with horror and I’m unable to hold my laughter in.

“Balls!” Lily exclaims, causing everybody to stare at her in shock before we all burst out laughing. Lily giggles along with us, oblivious to what we’re laughing at.

“Your daddy is a bad influence. I’m sorry, baby,” I say, kissing her adorable little head.

“Balls!” she repeats, almost causing my brain to explode. My daughter is one year old and I’m already corrupting her little mind. But hearing such a foreign word come out of her mouth only makes me laugh further and the more I laugh, the more she continues to say it.

“I hope you’re not corrupting my granddaughter with filth,” my dad pipes up from the living room.

“That’s exactly what he’s doing, Mr. Gilbert,” says Caleb with an asshole smirk on his face.

For the first time in weeks, I feel I’m able to laugh without the incessant thoughts of cocaine circling my brain—that and everything else. For a moment, I’m able to forget and concentrate on what’s important. My family. Knowing that this is what will be waiting for me when I come out of rehab in thirty days, makes me eager to get to the rehab facility tomorrow. Then I can get on with the rest of my life—without addiction being a part of it. I know I’ve come a long way with my recovery, but there is still a piece of me that needs fixing. I hope to be able to glue the final piece back together with the help of professionals. Instead of walking around with a chip on my shoulder, feeling sorry for myself, I’m going to work hard.

I’m going to do whatever it takes.

When we sit around the dining table and we’ve said grace, I pick this moment to finally tell them that I’m heading back to rehab tomorrow. “The urge is still there. And if I don’t go, I’m worried that I’m going to fall back into my old habits and I can’t. I won’t,” I say full of determination. I briefly glance towards my daughter—who is currently clanging her spoon against the tray of her high chair causing mashed potato to fly everywhere—and I know I have to do this for her. She’s my entire world.