Page 169 of The Waiting Game

At first Jonah had just thought Felix was equally zoned out. It hadn’t been until he’d stepped close that he’d realized what Felix held in his hand.

God, Jonah had forgotten Grandma Ji-min had any alcohol in the freezer. She drank so rarely that it hadn’t seemed like a big issue after Felix got out of rehab. They’d taken a few bottles of wine she’d been gifted and given them to Nancy to use for bridge club nights but apparently neither of them had thought about the rum.

Sick to his stomach, Jonah pulled the bowls out of the microwave. The ceramic burned his fingers and the dishes clacked against the counter as he nearly dropped them. He couldn’t stomach the thought of eating now.

Instead, he slid to the floor and pressed his back to the cabinet, drawing up his knees.

In the space of twenty-four hours, everything had gone so wrong.

And Jonah had no idea how to repair any of it.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

The hammock swayed lightly as Felix stared at the bottle in his hands.

He twisted off the cap and sniffed the clear liquor inside, making a face. God, he really didn’t like rum. But it would do the trick.

But when he lifted the bottle to his lips and tilted it back, he froze.

It felt … wrong.

Here, under the warm glow of the string lights, in the safety of the fort he and Jonah had shared since they were small children, the overwhelming flood of emotions receded a little. Just enough to give him a sliver of mental clarity.

You are enough, Felix reminded himself.

It was something his therapist in rehab had told him to repeat when he felt low. When he began to doubt that he mattered to anyone. When he felt like he wasn’t good enough.

Felix’s hand shook as he lowered the bottle, twisting the cap back on. He tried to set it down but his fingers didn’t want to unclench.

So he closed his eyes and let the sway of the hammock do its work relaxing him. He breathed and softened his muscles and reminded himself that whatever he was looking for, he wouldn’t find it in the bottom of the bottle.

He heard an echo of the boy at the botanical gardens—Jackson—saying, “The bottom of a bottle wasn’t the answer to her problem.”

Jackson’s mom was right.

Felix knew that. He did.

Drinking wouldn’t fix the loss tonight.

It wouldn’t take away the sting of what Jonah had said.

It wouldn’t make Grandma Ji-min better.

It wouldn’t give Felix the future he wanted.

It would only hurt the people he loved. It would only hurt him.

And while the seduction of temporary oblivion beckoned, when he woke up in a few hours hungover or came to after a few days of being on a bender, his life would be in ruins.

Maybe not right away, but Felix knew where it would lead. One drink became two, two became three. One night became every night that week. One week became puffy eyes and poor sleep and feeling like shit every day.

Became him self-destructing.

The people Felix loved would lose their trust in him. It would threaten his career, disappoint his coach, let down his teammates.

What if he drove while intoxicated again? What if this time, he hurt someone?

Felix would lose everything he’d fought so hard for.

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