Prologue
The hallway is dimly lit as I step off the elevator after my father. I grip my box of items tightly in my fingers, stomach clenched up. I’d been told the guys had accepted my father’s offer, but until I actually hear it in person, I refuse to believe him.
The deal is simple – I move in with them, finish school, and daddy will pay for the apartment. But do I really want to do this? Yes and no. I’m terrified of the guys reactions, nervous that the instant they see me, they’re going to change their minds and send me on my way. I’d be far from surprised and more understanding. After all the shit I’ve done to them, blaming them for turning me away would be the last thing on my mind.
But what else can I do? I’d have to live with my parents. Twenty-three years old and living with my parents – yikes. It sounds like a waking nightmare to have to explain. Then again, most of the people I have called friends are no more. Now that my life is focused in sobriety, they’ve all but disappeared.
Daddy knocks on the door before opening it. I know he has a key that will be left with me, but the door in unlocked and doesn’t need it. I linger on the threshold, box clasped between my fingers so tightly, the rugged edges cut at them, threatening to split the flesh.
I stare at the four human being inside the three-bedroom apartment. Two males and two females. My stomach twists when I catch sight of each man having an arm around one of the girls. The old bile of jealous is back in full and it sucks.
My eyes linger over the woman at the younger of the two men’s side. I recognize her from the last time I had popped up, drunk and high out of my mind. She’s the woman Owen had been with then and nearly left to be with me. I’d fucked up that, though. The other one, who is on Devon’s arm, is new to me. I don’t recognize her, but when she glances up at Devon, the adoration that flashes in her eyes sting my heart.
“Hello, boys,” daddy greets and beckons for me to enter.
I step over the threshold and into the apartment, moving to the side to allow the door to be closed behind me.Ninety-five days.Ever so closer to a full four months.
I look up to catch my father’s eyes. He looks at me with pride for the first time in a long time, longer than I can remember. Happiness. Not disappointment. For almost six years, that’s all I’ve ever seen in his eyes. Giddiness sweeps through me. It’s been so long since I have felt any pride from either one of my parents and it feels way too good to give up.
Maybe, just maybe, if I focus on that – I can make this work.Thatcan be my new drug of choice. Making my parents happy. Because if anyone deserves it, it’s them. My parents don’t deserve to have a drug-addled, alcoholic daughter who had been too selfish to stay sober for twenty-four hours in order to celebrate a simple Christmas with them in a long time. I used to use the defense that on my birthday, it was my day, even if it was Christmas Eve at the same time. I was allowed to celebrate it however I damn well pleased. I now know just how wrong and selfish that was. I also know that it’s going to take a lot more than a simple apology to make up for it all.
Then, there’s the guys. They’ve obviously moved on. They’ve come to terms that I’m not meant for them. That the head games I had played are no longer worth it for them. I realized too late that I had been playing those fucked up games, and now, the consequences are standing right smack in front of me.
It’s my fault, though. I know that now. I know better than to blame everything that went wrong on anybody else. I have to figure out what parts are my fault, what I can fix, and let go of what I can’t. But I can’t lie. It really does hurt to see them with the other girls.
“Alright.” My father claps his hands, drawing me back to the moment of reality. “Boys, I appreciate this. I really do.”
Owen grins at my father, the man he’s idolized for as long as I can remember. “We’re happy to help.” I don’t miss how his gaze flickers to me, his smile faltering. “Really, we are. Hello, Gracie.”
I smile wanly at him. “Hi, Owen. Hi, Devon.”
The girl latched to Owen’s side lets out a huff of a breath and pulls away from him, lingering for a moment before her lipstick-slathered lips to his, turning the sloppy kiss into a passionate one. She has to stand up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck and holds him tight, but the way his arms slither around her waist tell me he doesn’t mind. I turn away, staring at the dining room table. After a moment, I feel the brush of the other girl again me and jump when she slams the door behind her. When I turn back, the one who had clung to Devon was now lounging on the couch, but her eyes are watching me curiously.
“You remember the deal, don’t you, Gracie?” Daddy’s voice tears through the rampant thoughts in my head.
It’s the number one think I hate about this sobriety shit. There’s too much room to think. Too much room to let every little terrible thing have a voice. Inwardly, I cringe, knowing better than to let him or anyone else see. It’ll only prompt questions I don’t know how to answer.
“Yes, daddy, I know the rules.”
He cocks an eyebrow but gives me a small smile. Stepping towards me, he takes the box and hands it to Owen, whose standing to us, to deposit in the room I’m going to be taking residence in. Daddy pulls me into a hug and my arms instantly wrap around him, burying my face into his chest, and my eyes close as I take in the sweet scent of gardenia – my mother’s perfume embedded into every inch of him. I so badly want what he has had with my mother all these years. I want to be able to look back some odd years in the future, with my own husband smeared in my scent from the life we’d created together. My parents have been married for nearly five decades, with me as their fourth child, and way too many grandchildren to really keep up with from the other. But it’s been a happy life, despite my bump in the road giving them a run for their money. A life that I so desperately want, that I crave for. But I know, that for now, I have to simply get through this sobriety. Because the first year is the most crucial, the one that determines if you’re going to make it or not. It’s like a newborn, learning everything about the world around it. Once it learns to walk, then and only than can I figure the rest out.
After all, according to the rules, I’m barely four months old. I’ve still got a long-ass way to go.
“I’m really proud of you,” daddy comments as he pulled back, cupping my cheeks. “Your mother and I are very proud of you. We always have been.”
I smile up at him, but I can feel its shaky stability. If he doesn’t leave soon, this mushy-gushy crap is going to make me start bawling in front of the guy. Though, it wouldn’t exactly be the first time I’ve wept in front of them. Daddy plants a kiss on my forehead and turns back to the guys.
“She’s doing online schooling. As long as you two help her stay up with her work, this apartment will be paid for in full. I’ll even send a monthly allowance to help with the groceries, but Gracie knows that this apartment is taken care of for the three of you as long as she stays sober and keeps up on her schoolwork. I really appreciate you boys offering to help. Especially after…”
His voice falters, but the words have to be said. They can’t keep tiptoeing around me. If I’ve going to get and stay better, the harsh truth has to be told. No matter how cruel it is. I have to hear it, to say it.
“After I have broken up with them both on multiple occasions, sold Devon’s engagement ring to a drug dealer, fucked over Owen when he did everything he could to get me sober, and ghosted them way too many times to count. I also borrowed money from my niece to pay back a gambling fee I owed, which you’re now paying back, and I must eventually pay you back. Whenever that is. Oh, and I pretty much destroyed holidays for too many years. You can say it, you know. I have to own what I’ve done.”
There’s a bated breath of silence, and for a moment, a flare of panic sweeps through me at thinking that I’ve just fucked up my chances of not having to live with my parents for the rest of my life.
“Well, good to see you too, Gracie,” Owen comments, frustration in his voice as he takes off towards what I assume is his bedroom and slams the door shut behind him.
I look straight at Devon. “Why did you guys agree to this?”