Page 80 of Desperate Haste
“Avoidance is a key indicator that someone’s hiding something. I’m going to go with yes,” Bailey quips.
“So he’s coming home this week?” I ask, willing to throw the poor girl a bone. She looks at me with grateful eyes and a smile that screams ‘thank you.’
“That’s what I was told,” she answers.
“By Conrad, the guy you’re totallynothooking up with but are just hanging out with and not telling anyone about…” Bailey sings under her breath, pushing her lips out like a fish and swinging her eyes over to Margaret who is now pouting.
“You didn’t know?” Magnolia asks, looking at me.
I shake my head and feel my lips pull into a tight line.
He’d told me he was doing a thirty day program and since it’s been thirty-three days since he left, I figured he would be coming home soon.
Not like I’m counting or anything.
Ever since he left my place and gave me Marshall’s ring, I’d worn it on a chain around my neck tucked under whatever shirt or jacket I had on. Each day, I’d feel it against my skin and it somehow made me feel closer to him. Even after what happened between us, after what he did, I still feel this pull to him that I can’t deny. Wearing the ring makes dealing with the ache of not being able to see him a little bit easier to bear.
“Have you heard from him?” Bailey asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Uhhh, no. I haven’t. But, I’m not really surprised. I didn’t expect to hear from him while he was gone.”
The three of them exchange a glance before setting their focus back on me.
“Are you going to see him once he’s home?” Magnolia questions, being the brave one to ask what they’re all dying to know.
My shoulders touch my ears as I shrug. “I don’t know, maybe. If he wants to see me. I don’t know if I’m ready to see him yet but…”
Bailey reaches over and squeezes my hand in hers. “Whatever you decide to do, sweetie, we support you. We know how hard this has been for you.”
“Thanks, B.” I hold her gaze for a beat before smiling at Magnolia and Margaret. The three of them look at me with so much love and reverence that I feel tears begin to prick my eyelids. Not because I’m sad about everything that’s happened between Malcolm and I, but because my heart is overwhelmed by how lucky I am to have such incredible women in my corner.
As the conversation starts again and morphs into a new, lighter subject, I realize that there’s no better medicine for the soul than a few hours sitting around the table with other women who see your heart and your faults and still choose to love you anyway.
41
MALCOM
“Damn, you look like shit man. Oww! Why’d you hit me?”
“You can’t say that to him, you moron, we’re literally picking him up fromrehab,” Hank chastises Conrad after thumping him on the back of the head.
“Children,please,” Kolbi groans, rolling his eyes at the two of them as I approach his SUV.
The three of them were outside waiting for me, just like they promised they would be when they dropped me off, and acting like nothing had changed. Nothing ever changes with my friends, even when everything does. It could be Hank enlisting or Kolbi becoming a billionaire or me going to rehab—twice—and my friends are still the same old idiots I grew up with.
I smile warily at the three of them and shake my head, dropping the duffle bag I’d taken in with me at our feet. My arms extend around them and pull them in for a hug. Hank and Kolbi’s hands wrap around my back and I can feel Conrad pulling away from us after only a few seconds.
“Okay, okay, we’re good. No more hugging. You’re all in touch with your feelings now and I love that for you but I don’t need to join, thank you.” He grimaces.
“I think out of all of us, you need to get in touch with your feelings the most, brother,” Kolbi jokes before bending over and grabbing my bag. He tosses it in the back of his car and slams the tailgate shut. “It’s nice to see you, dude, you look good.”
I shake the hand he’s offered me and nod. “Thanks, I feel good.”
“Are you sure about that? Because we haven’t left yet, you can go back inside and stay until you really mean it.” It’s Hank who speaks and he looks at me indignantly.
“I promise, I mean it,” I say, looking at him over the bridge of my nose.
Going through the program helped me work through the shit in my head and reset in a way I needed. It took some time, anda lotof group therapy, to realize that the root of my relapse was settled in never fully processing the loss of Marshall. He was my anchor the first time I got clean and once I lost him, I lost my anchor. I needed to learn how to anchor myself in my own life, not in the life of someone else, if I truly want to stay clean. And that’s my goal now that I’m out. To use what I learned while away and implement it now that I’m heading home.
