Page 13 of Taste of Addiction

“Not even now that she’s engaged?”

“Not that we can tell. She is playing the self-absorbed fiancée and is making sure she is publicly seen doing wedding planning—not meddling in the crime world.”

“She’s not playing. This isn’t acting for her. She probably thinks she has a chance with you and that this isn’t a facade at all.”

“Angela.” His eyes stare straight into mine, possessing me with their intensity. “I want to be with you. Only you. If anything, that should be clear.”

I nod then look off to the side of the room. I want to ask Graham why he had to propose to Sophia, versus just publicly announcing she was his girlfriend. But deep down, I don’t want to know the answer. I know what Graham and I have is real. However, I think what he had with Sophia in the past was real too. And it may still be real in Sophia’s eyes.

That doesn’t sit well with me.

We finish up the call, and I clean up all of the food packages. I put the extra fruit in my minifridge and my pistachios on the desk. I feel so stuffed that I can barely move without feeling like an Oompa Loompa. I am going to gain fifteen pounds while I am here. I can feel it in how my thighs want to bump and grind with each other.

I grab a vitamin-infused water out of the fridge and mosey through the quiet house into the even quieter library. The room is completely soundproof—or so it seems—with the only noise coming from my own breathing. And my loud thoughts. I just cannot shut off my brain. But this is how it is when I have nothing really to do other than think.

Graham has given me plenty to consider in regard to his previous relationship with Sophia. What if it really is not over between them? What if I am just the rebound and he is buying time until he can commit to her? My heart knows that he loves me. My brain knows that she still loves him. So here I find myself in yet another love triangle. One I do not want to be in but don’t have a clear exit strategy for either.

In true Angie fashion, I sink into the overstuffed chair and allow my negative thoughts to poison the well.Momma, I wish you were here right now.You would know exactly what to say to make me stop mentally obsessing.

But I am all alone. I don’t have anyone here, other than the security staff who hide between the walls and only come out of the woodwork if I call or need one of them to fetch me something. Claire and I chat often enough to help my sanity, but it is not the same as having the physical contact that I yearn for and desperately need. I had no idea how much I needed it until it was taken away.

I miss you, James. In just two days, it will be five years since his death. It is also the five year observance of my life getting spared. And for the first time in those five years, I am actually glad it was spared. Maybe it took Graham forcing himself into my life to help me realize that I can find some level of happiness, despite all that I had to go through to get to this point. However, no matter how happy I am, a small part of me is still holding on to the thread of guilt for being able to express that emotion, given the pain that my family endured in the past. It is as if I shouldn’t be able to be happy ever again. So when I am happy, there is sadness lingering in the background, waiting to come to the forefront.

* * *

It is not an easy way to go through life, having two emotions constantly competing with each other and finding superficial conflict at every bend in the road. I want to find meaning in my life, yet it is hard to go about my day when my heart is with Graham.

I feel like days are still blurring together, and if it wasn’t for the sun, I would lose all track of time. It is Monday. I only know this because I made a little calendar that I attached to the wall where I mark off the days as they pass. The whole prison-vibe thing isn’t lost on me. At least my toilet has its own room. Graham wouldn’t have hired an entire fleet of guards if he didn’t think I would pull aShawshankand try to escape. I’d be lying if I said the thought never crossed my mind.

My phone buzzes with an incoming call, and I answer it on impulse without even checking the caller ID.

“Hello,” I say into the receiver.

“Angela, I am glad I got ahold of you.”

“Hey, Dad.” I try to keep my voice from shaking. “How are you doing?”

“Not the best.”

“I’m sorry.” I have no idea why I apologize. None of his mistakes are my fault, but yet, I still feel compelled to offer those words of comfort.

“I really need your help this time.”

Here I thought maybe, just maybe, he is calling to invite me to lunch or to act like he remembered James’s anniversary tomorrow. Maybe he is calling to tell me he put flowers on the grave. Or that the inheritance he took from me and blew through without a care is unacceptable to do as a father. Maybe he is calling to say the same words I just told him. That he is sorry.

Nope. No. Never.

Instead I get the guilt packed upon my shoulders to bear once again and keep me bogged down.

“I can’t help you, Dad. I have no money to give.”

“Angela, you damn well know that’s not true. You are dating a very powerful man who has enough money to spare. Ask him for help. I’m your father.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat and pray it stays there. My pulse picks up at the phrases he spews at me. “A father is supposed to protect his daughter, not ask her for money to handle his gambling debts.” I am surprised the words flutter out of my mouth so fluently. It is like I have been holding on to them for so long that they have been rehearsed and re-rehearsed over and over again in my head.

“Oh, you are so righteous and holier-than-thou.”

Tears fall down my cheeks like pathetic little streams, joining at my chin and then becoming a steady river. I know he is hurting inside. I know that the past decade has not treated him kindly. But it is not my fault. Sadly, I really could have used a dad in my life when I was suffering the most. Instead, I had to continue to grow up a little more each passing day. I had to find ways to continue to take care of myself. And continue to make mistakes and deal with the fallout on my own.

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