Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
“Considerate of you. Perhaps you should have extended the same courtesy to the hotel.” I grab my phone from the side. “Are you guys ready to head back into the spa? I don’t want to be responsible for murdering the groom on the party weekend.”
“Wow,” I hear Aaron mutter as I walk away. “They really are evil.”
I stop by the door of the restaurant. “This isn’t evil. This is normal. You should be very afraid, Aaron Stone. Very fucking afraid.”
I catch Day’s shrug before I turn away again. “She’s right,” she says. “And to think this is a good day. Now, I’m going for a massage, and when I get back, I want you and Tyler out of my frickin’ sight, Mr. Stone. Got it?”
I lean against my hotel room door and breathe out a long sigh. Every corner I turned, I expected him to walk around. Every time the elevator doors opened, I expected him to be there, waiting. Hell, when I got to the room, I expected him to be here.
This weekend, not that it ever got off to a good start, has been ruined. Just by him being here, the heavy cloud that lifted somewhat in the presence of Dayton and Tessa has descended once more.
I feel the pain so strongly, wrapping around me and squeezing, like its only goal is to draw all the life out of me. Knowing that he’s here, close, two floors up and three doors down, is like an echoing plea. A beg to take me there, to drag me to him.
A desperate plea for my heart to rejoin with my body.
For everything to balance out.
If only it had been balanced to begin with. It wasn’t. Away from him, I can see it more clearly. I can see how the needs of his addiction outweighed mine. Fuck now, talk later—it’s all good until the talking doesn’t happen.
When it doesn’t happen repeatedly, questions have to be asked. ‘We’ll get through it together.’ ‘We’ll do this.’ ‘We can cope as long as we’re together.’ They’re all good. They’re all ambitious, realistic statements.
Until there’s nothing to back them up with.
How?
How are we going to cope with our addictions and the way they hurt us? Are we going to continue down this path, clinging desperately to the other person while we battle our way through, only to inevitably hurt the other? Are we going to wake up each morning to the sun filtering through the windows and decide that this is the day we separate the emotion from the addiction and live like that?
Or are we going to call, talk to people, lay it out? Are we going to deal with therapy and the highs and lows? Are we even going to try?
Are we going to look past the idealistic thoughts we have, or are we just going to sit around like a couple of teens waiting for the answer to fall into our laps?
I know Tyler’s answer. Believe. Try. Wait. Hope that some little fairy will come along and wave their damn wand and make it better.
That’s not how it works. Maybe we have to be apart to make it work.
We might not have anything to lose when we’re apart, but we sure as hell have everything to fight for.
And the fact that you might not win the fight is a far scarier thought than losing something you never thought would go.
Maybe the key is to be together but not. Maybe seeing each other, talking, but not really having one another, is the key. Because then we’ll remember, every day, what we’re fighting for. We’ll have something to work toward.
Maybe it’s a coffee date, breakfast, or dinner. Maybe it’s a movie or a doctor’s appointment. Maybe it’s even a sleepover.
Just something small, mostly insignificant—the little things that change everything.
I don’t believe for a second that Tyler will haul his ass willingly into therapy. For him, I would. I hated every second, but if therapy means managing this and if managing this means having him, I’ll go through hours of hell and hurt.
All of it. For him. For me. For the baby.
Without a second thought. Because we’re more than addiction. It’s hard to remember sometimes; we’re stronger than the ties that bound us in the beginning.
We’re not addiction. We’re love in its strongest, purest form, no matter how wrinkly or rough it is. We’re indestructible, and I truly believe that, one day, we’ll be able to weather any storm.
Right now, we’re the eye of the storm. We’re the tornado touching down on the ground, and our relationship is in a whirlwind, destructive spin above us. If we try hard enough, we can slow the spin and the devastation.
If we try hard enough, we can erase the storm and pave the way for the mess to be fixed.