LISA
..
..
"Well, here we are." Bobby holds open the front door to let me enter the apartment, my duffle draped over my shoulder.
It feels weird to be here. Weird to be back in the real world.
I look around the small apartment, surprised by how tidy it is. Bobby was never much of a housekeeper. In fact, when he was a teenager, he was a downright fucking slob. A trait he inherited from our father.
My shoulders tense at the thought of my father. I haven't seen him for the better part of a year. Not since we got into a huge fight and I ended up breaking that piece of shit's nose. Serves him right for all the times he beat on me when I was too young and weak to defend myself. An hour later all my shit was in the front yard. He told me to never come back and it was a command I was all too happy to obey.
Of course, that meant I was bouncing from couch to couch for months. Hell, sometimes I would wake up and not even know where the fuck I was. A situation I'm grateful to have escaped. And one I don't ever plan on going back to.
"This is nice," I tell my brother, dropping my bag on the gray wraparound couch that takes up a good portion of the small living room.
"Yeah," he grunts. "It's not too bad. Better than any place I ever thought I'd be able to afford, that's for sure."
"You've really done well for yourself." I turn to face him. Bobby is a shorter, stockier, older version of me. We look so much alike.
"Thanks. It hasn't been easy." He drops his keys on the table in the dining room, which is open to the living room.
Bobby and I were really close growing up, but after he left the house we lost touch for a long time. We'd run into each other from time to time, but by that point we were both so fucked up I can't even remember what, if anything, we even talked about. We reconnected a few weeks ago when he came to see me in rehab. I was more than a little surprised to find out he was clean and working full time as a mechanic, and that he has his own place. When he offered to let me stay with him, I was honestly a bit taken aback and not sure how great of an idea it was. But I also wasn't really in the position to refuse either.
"Does Jennie know you're out? Have you spoken to her at all?" he asks out of left field, bringing her to the forefront of my mind.
It's hard to believe it's been two weeks since she came to see me in rehab. In some ways it feels like days ago, in others it feels like years. I have thought of very little but her since her visit. I've replayed everything in my head over and over again. The way we used to be. Before the drugs. Before things got really bad. I'd give anything to go back to that time and do it all differently. Unfortunately, that's not how life works. The only thing I can do now is look forward and fight like hell to be the girl that she deserved for me to be all along.
"Not since she came to visit me." I can't ignore the weight that pools in my stomach. "I fucked that up beyond repair."
I know what we had is over. And no matter how hard of a fucking pill that is to swallow, it's something I'm going to have to learn to live with. Which is going to be a hell of a lot harder sober than it was when I was walking around in a haze.
"I'm sorry, Lis. I know how much you loved her."
"Still do," I admit. "But she's better off without me."
"Is she?" He cocks a brow. "I know the shit that went down between the two of you was bad, but if any two people belong together, it's you and her. Fuck, I remember when you two were joined at the hip. Everywhere she went you weren't far behind, and vice versa."
"Yeah, but a lot has happened since then. And we're not kids anymore. She's moved on. I think it's about time I do the same."
"Easier said than done I'm afraid."
"You're not telling me anything I don't already know."
"It's probably for the best. Right now you need to focus on your sobriety."
"Yeah," I mutter, a long silence settling between us.
"So, you wanna see your bedroom?" Bobby makes his way to the mouth of the hallway, clearly sensing my need for a change in topic.
"Yeah." I nod, grabbing my bag before following him to the back of the apartment. There are three doors. One on the right, which leads to the shared bathroom, with another across the hall, and the last at the end. Bobby pushes open the door across from the bathroom, ushering me in.
"It's not much." He flips on the light and gestures around the small square room. "I did manage to get you a bed." My gaze goes to the full-size bed shoved into the corner next to the window in the room. "A buddy at the shop was getting rid of it. It's not in the best condition, but it'll be better than sleeping on the floor."
"You didn't have to do that. I appreciate it though." I do a full sweep of the otherwise bare room.
"It's the least I could do." He shuffles his feet against the beige carpet. "In a way, I feel like it's my fault you're in this mess to begin with."
"Bobby–" I start, but he instantly cuts me off.
"You were the smart one. The one that was supposed to get away. To make something of yourself. I can't help but feel like had I not left you there with him, had I not abandoned you the way I did, then none of this would have happened."
I won't lie and say I wasn't devastated when Bobby took off not long after my thirteenth birthday. Truth be told, I was angry with him for a long time over it. But as I got older, I understood why he did what he did. Our father was not an easy man to live with, and Bobby took the brunt of his abuse for a very long time. I just wish he had escaped like he wanted to instead of falling in with the wrong crowd and wasting a decade of his life to drugs. Not that I have any room to judge him, considering I did the same thing, just not for as long.
"Hey." I step forward, placing a hand on my brother's shoulder. "This isn't on you. None of this is your fault. I made my own choices."
"It was my job to take care of you."
"No, it was your job to take care of you."
"Guess I fucking failed at that too." He sighs.
"We've made some pretty poor life choices; I'll give you that." I chuckle, releasing his shoulder.
"That we have," he agrees. "But I'm hoping maybe this can be our fresh start."
"Yeah, me too." I nod.
"Speaking of fresh starts, I talked to Devin about getting you on at the shop. The pay is shit, and it probably won't be that many hours, but it's something to get you started. He said he'd see about having you come in for an interview next week."
"You didn't have to do that."
"I know. But the sooner you find something to occupy your time, the better off you'll be. Trust me, the last thing you want to do is lay around this apartment with nothing but your thoughts eating away at you. Take it from someone who's been there."
"Thank you." I don't know what else to say.
"What are big brothers for?" He gives me a lopsided grin seconds before sliding past me. "I'll let you get settled. I have to head into work in a few. You gonna be okay here on your own?" He stops in the doorway and turns back toward me.
"Yeah. I'll be fine. My counselor gave me information on some meetings around here. I think I might try to hit one up later this afternoon."
He nods. "I think that's a good idea. You just gonna walk?"
"Yeah, might as well. It's not like I have anything else to do. Besides, I think the fresh air might do me some good."
"Just don't get yourself into any trouble while you're out." He narrows his gaze at me.
"I think I can manage to walk to a meeting and back without sticking a needle in my arm." I roll my eyes.
"You say that now. We both know how hard it is to resist temptation."
"You're not really showing a hell of a lot of faith in me right now."
"It's not that. I just know how hard it can be. Especially the first few months after rehab."
"I'll be fine." I smile, trying to reassure him.
"Okay." He blows out a breath. "I'll leave my cell phone number on the table. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call."
"Okay." I nod, watching Bobby exit the room, pulling the bedroom door closed behind him.
I drop my bag on the floor, then collapse back onto the bed. It's lumpy and broken down, but it's still a hell of a lot better than some other things I've slept on over the years. Hell, on more than one occasion I've woken up in someone's front lawn. More often times than not, I didn't know whose yard it was either.
Lifting my arms, I lock my fingers behind my head and take a deep breath in, my gaze going to the ceiling.
As relieved as I am to be out of rehab, I'm also terrified. I don't have the best track record when it comes to staying clean. After my first stent, I relapsed three days out. After my second, I didn't even make forty-eight hours. But this time, this time I'm determined to make it stick. I have to.
My mind drifts back to Jennie again. I know I shouldn't torture myself this way, but I can't seem to stop myself.
I love her.
Even after all these years, I still love her so much that it damn near consumes me.
Time hasn't changed that. Time hasn't changed much where Jennie is concerned.
The last four years without her have been such a blur. It's almost like I was dreaming and not actually living. But now I'm awake, facing the reality that I lost her a long, long time ago. And as much as I wish that I could fix the damage I did to our relationship, I could tell by the way she looked at me that that ship had long since sailed.
She was guarded, closed off in a way I don't think I've ever seen her before. And I can't blame her. Not for a single moment. Because everything that happened to us, to her, was my fault.
Even if I never see her again for as long as I live, I will never stop fighting to be the girl she needed me to be all those years ago. The girl I should have been. The girl I know I can be still.
I'm seeing more clearly now than I have in a very long time. I don't want to live my life the way I've been living it. I don't want to wake up every morning and wonder if this is the day the drugs finally kill me.
It's a shit of an existence, and as easy as it is to say I'll never go back to that lifestyle again, the truth is it's not that simple. Addiction isn't something you're just cured of. It's something you have to work for every single second of every day.
So as much as I want to dive in headfirst and start living my new life, I know the only way I'll have any chance of success is if I ease myself in one fucking toe at a time.
The road in front of me is long and winding, but with determination and a lot of hard work, I know I'll get through it. I just have to take it one day, one minute, one second at a time.
..
..
..