My Mistake (Stories of Serendipity #7) (15 page)

She sobbed into her pillow, remembering all of the times she’d thought he was so perfect. The way he looked at her with love shining from his eyes so brightly she thought she would erupt with giddiness. The smile he gave her when she said something that pleased him. The way he always made it a personal challenge to satisfy her sexually before he got his. The feel of his hands on her body, even in platonic situations, like when they cuddled or hugged. The words of encouragement he’d given her when she’d cried on his shoulder, that she deserved someone better than Kevin.

And the entire time, he’d been hiding a secret from her. A secret he’d known she would be mad about. He’d hidden his past from her because he was scared of her reaction. As well he should be. She remembered telling him more than once that she could never be with someone like her dad.

She’d grown up in a two parent household, with one mostly absent father. Every time he left on a bender, Casey experienced a feeling of profound relief that he was gone. He wouldn’t be yelling at her or her mom anymore. They wouldn’t have to watch him drink himself into a stupor in the recliner, sitting in stained underwear every night. She would hope he never returned. Then the guilt would overwhelm her. He was her dad and she was supposed to love him unconditionally. Then the fear that something would happen to him while he was away, and he’d be hurt or afraid and they’d have no idea how to find him. Guilt because she’d wished him harm. When he returned, she was always happy he was alive for about two seconds, then she would wish him gone again. Under all those emotions was an undercurrent of shame. Shame that he belonged to her, and then guilt at the shame. It was exhausting.

Casey had tried going to the Alanon meetings, for family members of alcoholics, but they never told her anything she didn’t already know. Alcoholism is a disease. He loved his liquor more than he loved her. She couldn’t blame herself. She couldn’t enable him. Patronizing members talking down to her, telling her the obvious. He would always be a ‘recovering addict,’ no matter how long he was clean.

She knew all that, but it was hard to tell her heart, and so it had broken slowly, binge by binge, until there was no love left for her father, only shame and a bone-deep guilt for not being the type of daughter that could see past it.

And now Brent. Her Brent. The Brent that she had loved her entire life was an addict. All of the words of the meetings came back to her, and she fought the urge to scream.

B
rent spent days in bed, first because the pain was too much to move. Every effort brought blinding, breath-taking pain. Pain that reminded him he was alive. Pain that made him remember Casey and every lie he’d uttered.

And that brought a fresher, more debilitating pain. Pain overrode all sense of time for Brent. He passed the days and nights watching Summer and Max come into his room, talking to him, checking his reflexes, and looking into his eyes with flashlights, before leaving him two more Tylenol or ibuprofens to alleviate the pain that wouldn’t go away.

Four days later, he was physically better, able to sit on the edge of the bed and eat what Summer made for him, Mooch sitting on his feet, alert for errant drops of food. The look of adoration in the dog’s eyes tore at Brent’s heart. He didn’t deserve anything more than the love of a dog. He was gripped by a fear he’d never known before.

He’d dreamed of being with Casey for years. Some part of his brain had used Casey as a motivator to get clean. Now that he’d realized the dream of what it was like to be with Casey, and then lost it, he didn’t want to be clean anymore. And the ramifications of that scared him.

He could lose himself again and disappear. That thought held appeal to Brent. He could disappear and then he wouldn’t see the disappointment in her eyes. The pity. His betrayal.

Every time he closed his eyes, Casey’s eyes gripped him. Her eyes holding the treachery he’d reaped on her. His addiction.

He was scared that if he stayed, he would fail, have a relapse and she would find out, and he wouldn’t be able to live his life without seeing her beautiful brown eyes filled with reproach and pain. He was terrified of turning into her dad, and giving her every reason to hate him. He was scared of failure: failing himself, failing Casey, failing them.

There was no them. Frustrated, he lashed out at the TV tray Summer had set up next to his bed, and slammed the plate of eggs into the corner. Mooch was eager to lap up the remnants before anyone complained about food on the floor.

“Alright, Cowboy. Pity party’s over.” Summer yelled from the living room on her way into his bedroom. He grunted in reply.

“Take me to the hospital.” He told her. He couldn’t handle the ache anymore. Not seeing Casey’s smile made everything so much worse. And knowing he would never see it again made him need to dull the pain.

“Why?” Summer raised an eyebrow.

“Because I’m not healing right. I think I need to just go ahead and take the prescription.” The only time he’d ever been able to not remember Casey was when he was in a daze of prescriptions, and he needed that right now.

“You’re doing just fine. It would have been better at first, if you’d taken them, but we all respect your choice and you’ve gotten through the worst of it.”

“Take me to the hospital Summer.” He hated raising his voice to his sister, but there was a beast inside of him roaring to get out, and the pills were the only thing to stop it.

She sighed and went to the living room without saying anything.

Brent was pissed. He knew the pills would get him through these twinges of hurt, every time he stretched, every time he thought of Casey. The pills would dull the ache.

Before long, he heard the rumble of Max’s truck. “Summer! What did you do?”

She came back into his room. “Max was in the barn, helping with the horses. I just called him in to help me give you a little pep talk.”

Max came sauntering in behind Summer. “Hey man…What’s up?” He leaned against the door jamb, not entering Brent’s already too cramped room.

“I just wanted someone to take me back to the hospital. I need the prescription.” His fists clenched in his bed sheets.

“Sorry. No can do. You’ve already past that point. You made your wishes clear on the pain killer thing, man. We’re not taking you now,” Max said simply.

“I won’t take them all at once. I just need something to make it less. It hurts so bad.” Brent hated to grovel, but he was only half-lying. It did hurt. But he had no intention of taking the pills as directed. He would take enough to end the pain, whatever it took.

Summer sat on the edge of his bed and unclenched his hand from the sheet, taking it in her own. “Brent, we love you. And we don’t want to see you go down that dark path again. You can do this without the pills. You’ve already been through the worst.”

“What is this, some sort of intervention?” Brent spit the words out. He respected his sister and his friend, but they didn’t understand what he needed like he did.

Max pushed himself off the doorframe and walked to the edge of the bed. “Does it need to be? You’ve worked really hard to get where you are, and this thing with Casey doesn’t need to be the catalyst that sends you backwards.”

“Who said anything about Casey? My ribs fucking hurt!” He was manic with pain and fear, and nothing could stop the thoughts that tumbled in his brain. Seeing Max and Summer in his tiny room with their compassionate expressions just made them all worse.

“I’ve seen you go through broken bones without pain killers before, and you didn’t whine like a two-year-old. This is about Casey.”

Summer squeezed his hand. “She just needed some time to think. When she comes over to talk to you, you need to show her that you’re on the right path. She can’t see you high, or you’ll never have a chance at redemption with her.”

“Who says she’s coming over to talk?”

“I do. I called her this morning.”

“Dammit, Summer!” Righteous indignation flared in Brent. “Why don’t you meddle in your own damn business? You get your own shit straightened out before you start messing around with mine!”

He saw the hurt in her eyes, and guilt followed on the heels of the indignation, but he didn’t stop to dwell on it. “Will you quit trying to make sure everybody else is hunky dorey for just a little bit? Focus on yourself and leave me alone!”

Her voice softened, and she ignored his tirade. “I know you’re hurting.” He scoffed. “I can’t imagine the pain you’re going through physically. But I know you can get through this.” She made a vague gesture with her hand. “All of this.”

“Yeah, buddy. You can do this. I’ll tie you to the bed, if I have to. But you’re done with the doctors for now. We’re not taking you to the hospital. You’re not getting another script, and you’ll get through this. If Casey comes around, great, but if not, you’ll figure something out. You always do.” Max’s voice was reassuring, but Brent didn’t hear.

He knew they meant well, but they just didn’t understand. The compulsive need for the pills was overwhelming. Every time Casey’s smile drifted through his mind, thoughts of never seeing it again paralyzed him. The pills were the only thing that would make that feeling go away.

With the pills, nothing hurt as badly. It was all scattered shards of life, pieces of memories. He could deal with that. When he was on the pills, his emotions evened out, he could handle things. He would be able to laugh again. He would be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. He might even forget Casey.

Without them, all he could think about was Casey and how he’d been so stupid to lose her again. He couldn’t see the irony, he was so wrapped up in thoughts of making the pain go away.

“It’s time for you to put on some clothes and quit making us look at you in your underwear.” Summer held a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt, folded neatly in her hands. “You’ll have to change your own panties, but I’ll help you with the rest,” she smirked at him.

“I don’t need to get dressed.”

“Okay, let’s try this.” She spoke slowly. “I. Talked. To. Casey. She’s. Coming. Over.” She tossed him a pair of underwear. “Put these on, unless you actually want a shower, which I’ll be happy to help you with if you need.”

His mind whirled around the idea that Casey was coming over. “Why?”

“Because you reek.”

He gritted his teeth around the desire to roar at his sister again. “No, bratty britches. Why’s Casey coming over?”

Summer shrugged. “Don’t know. She asked me if you were feeling better, and I said not really, but you could probably use some company.”

Brent groaned and pulled himself back into a sitting position before standing for the first time in four days. He stood still, fighting the light-headed feeling.

“You okay?” Summer was studying him. Max had left, Brent assumed back to the barn.

Nodding, he said, “I don’t think I’ll need your help in the shower, but if you could keep an ear out?”

“Sure.”

Brent paused at the door to the bathroom. “You seem to be doing better.”

“Nothing like somebody else’s drama to take my mind off my own.” She mused.

“You’ve always loved everybody else’s drama.” She poked him in his chest. “Ow! That hurt!”

“Watch it, Brent. It seems you’re not really in a position to be critical of others right now.”

In the shower, hot water streamed over Brent’s sore muscles, needling out some of his pain. He admitted to himself he felt a little bit better, as he soaped up and rinsed off. He couldn’t help but wonder why Casey was coming over though.

He had just finished dressing and sat down on his couch when he heard her car pull up.

“I’ll see you later.” Summer bent down and kissed his cheek. “I’ve got the night shift.” Brent smiled, but couldn’t quell the disappointment that Casey wouldn’t be staying. He had an idea that the girls had already made his plan for the day.

Her exit heralded Casey’s arrival, and when he saw her in his door, time stopped. She was wearing a pair of cotton pajama pants and slippers paired with a tank top. He remembered that when she was sad she’d always used to stay in pajamas as much as possible. She’d always said that if she was going to feel like crap, she might as well look like it too. He struggled to pull air into his lungs at the idea that she felt like crap because of him. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, and Brent almost wept at the sight of the dark circles etched into her drawn face.

Brent leaned forward, despite the pain in his ribs at constricting them. “Case. I’m so sorry. I would have told you if I’d known how…”

She held up her hand to stop him. “Don’t. I just want to know what happened. How did you get addicted?”

He leaned back and sighed. Honesty was best in this case. Lying wouldn’t get him anywhere. Brent needed to tell her the truth and hope for the best. Raking his hand through his hair, he began.

“I tried to get through college, I really did, but the first year was incredibly tough. My grades were so bad because I was distracted and home sick that I was put on academic probation almost immediately. It was hard to come out of that, so after a year and a half, I quit.” He looked at her, trying to gauge her response so far. Nothing. She just stared, chewing the inside of her cheek in thought.

“I didn’t want to come home and be a burden on Nana, so I picked up odd jobs here and there. I was restless. I didn’t know what to do with my life, I had no purpose. By the time you were fixing to graduate, I was a complete loser. A college drop-out with no immediate prospects.” She continued chewing the inside of her cheek, only now she was tapping her lip with her index finger. Brent closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch.

“I spent five years after high school just floating. No school, no career, nothing. Just floating.” He gulped. “Then I heard you’d gotten engaged, and everything I’d ever wanted was gone. I’m not trying to blame you. I know this was all my own damn fault. I’d never made any claims on you, too chicken shit to even tell you how I felt. But when Summer told me you were engaged, I sort of lost it. My recklessness knew no bounds. I started driving drunk, riding Dash at night, I even started shoplifting a little, just to see if I could.” He looked at her again, and dread consumed him at the look on her face.