“Ifyou’ve been here this whole time, why haven’t you reached out to me?”
“Sweetheart,”I muttered, wiping a hand over my mouth. “I don’t—”
“No,”she cut me off, lifting her gaze to mine, to reveal the pain and rejection sheheld inside. “If I’m going to consider making this work with you, I need toknow what kept you away. I mean, I got it, you needed to learn to be alone, butyou’ve beenhere. How could you just ignore the fact that I’ve beenliving five minutes away? How could you hope for me to wait for you, and thennever reach out once you were here?”
Scratchingthe back of my neck, I pulled in a deep breath, then said, “I haven’t ignoredit, but—”
“But,you have, because if it really bothered you, if you really wanted me back, youwould’ve—”
“Icouldn’t,” I interjected sharply, before raking a hand through my hairand shaking my head. “Andy, I treated you like shit. I fuckin’hit you.How the hell was I going to show up at your parents’ house and beg you to takeme back, when I don’t believe I deserve your forgiveness in the first place?You just said you don’t know how your dad’s gonna react to you talkin’ to menow. What if I just showed up at his door?”
Herblue eyes softened, as she asked, “Well, would you hit me now?”
“What?”I replied, exasperated. “God, no! Andy, the reason I—”
“Iknowwhy you did it. You thought I was talking like a crazy, strung-outjunkie, and inyourcrazy, strung-out junkie mind, that’s what you feltyou needed to do to snap me out of it.” She reached across the table, and to mysurprise, took my hand in hers. “Vinnie, we both did things we never should’vedone, and in the right frame of mind, we never would’ve done them in the firstplace. But that’s the thing; weweren’tin the right frame of mind. Weweresick.”
“Yeah,well,” I grumbled, with my eyes fixed on her hand in mine, “that’s no excusefor bein’ an asshole.”
“No,maybe not,” she agreed. “But you’re not an asshole, I know that. And, believeit or not, my parents know it, too, even if they are skeptical of ourrelationship. So, if you had come to my door, I’m telling you right now, theywouldn’t have turned you away. I wouldn’t have let them.”
Thecorner of my mouth lifted in a lop-sided smile. “Oh, no?”
Andylaughed, shaking her head. “Baby, the only reason I was staying away from youis because youaskedme to,notbecause Iwantedto.”
Griefand guilt are heavy feelings to carry all the time, and my shoulders had beenpermanently slouched with the weight, or so I thought. But at that moment, whenI knew our relationship and marriage hadn’t been left to die with ouraddiction, relief helped to lighten the load, and I sat up a littlestraighter.
Shesmiled and squeezed my hand. “So, Jenna’s basement … what's it like?”
“Hey,Kev!” I called, and my cashier and dishwasher popped his head out from thekitchen. “Clean this up, will ya? I'm gonna get outta here.”
“Youwant us to lock up?”
“Yeah,man,” I nodded, standing up and leading Andy to the door. “I'll be back in themorning, but just so you know, I might be late.”
CHAPTERFORTY-THREE
ANDREA
Jennalived on a quiet street a few towns over from where I grew up. Her house was amodest ranch, with a cozy front porch and stained glass door to welcome yourentry. The yard was beautiful and clearly professionally landscaped, showcasinga series of white rose bushes and lavender that lined the flagstone walkway. Itlooked like a picture and something a family had never lived in, except for thetoys on the lawn giving it away.
“It’sso beautiful here,” I complimented, as Vinnie pulled up to the curb.
“Yeah,well,” he shrugged, “I mean, it's not as nice as your parents' place, but ...”
Itdawned on me that maybe he had done all of this—rehab, therapy, moving, andbuying a new business—to simply impress my family, and I gawked at him with ablend of hurt and pity blanketing my heart.
“Don'tdo anything for them,” I said firmly, and he shook his head, incredulous.
“Sweetheart,don't take this the wrong way, but I don't give a fuck about your family,” hepressed. “I'm doin' this for me, and for Pops, but most of all, for you. 'Causeyou deserve better, so I'm gonna give you better.”
Amemory came to mind, something I thought I'd forgotten, from when I’d gone homeafter Vinnie made me leave. My father had told me that all we can hope for isto love someone enough to make a difference, and I realized then, that I had.
Hewas alive because of me.
Hewas doing better, because of me.
AndI couldn't ask or hope for anything else.
