Page 13 of Unwanted

“Truthfully, I haven’t really let myself think about it,” I admit. “I’ve been more worried about seeing Frankie.”

“Ah, yes.” She hums. “They’re biological brothers. And where has Frankie been, again?”

The woman doesn’t forget a thing, but I know she’s prodding me to make it easier for me to open up.

“Seattle.”

“Right. Right. So he’s here now? In LA?”

“I’m sitting outside the hospital and he’s inside,” I confess. “He’s definitely herenow.”

“Are you going to go inside?”

“I want to see Lennox,” I lament. “But I don’t think I’m prepared to see Frankie.”

“What’s your biggest fear when it comes to seeing him?” she asks.

The question has me pausing and taking a moment to process what she’s really asking.

“What’s the worst thing that can happen?” she rephrases.

Well, isn’t that the million-dollar question. Whatisthe worst that can happen?

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “So much of Frankie and I and our relationship was tied up in the drugs. What if that’s all it was? What if I built up this whole connection and heartache in my head, and he’s just been living his best life in Seattle, not giving me a second thought? And that’s why it was so easy for him to leave.”

The vulnerability in my words surprises me. I didn’t want to rehash what we’d been through. I didn’t want to have that conversation and that’s why I’d never reached out. Why I made amends with everyone but him.

Some things were just too big to overcome.

Him leaving me was too big to overcome

I was still stuck on all the ways he wronged me. Everything about us was better in the dark, better left in the past.

“You know what?” I say with false bravado. “Just forget it. I’m overthinking this. I don’t care about any of it. We’re both different people now.”

“I’m here for you,” Jenika reminds me. “There doesn’t have to be a solution or an answer to your questions. Sometimes it’s nice just to have someone who listens. Any day, any time, Arlo.”

And that was the reason I should’ve called her in the first place. I wasn’t good with emotions and feelings and talking. It was both my weakness and my most toxic trait.

In hindsight I could see just how much bottling up my feelings cost me, but it didn’t make them any easier to deal with. Recovery didn’t miraculously teach you all the things, it was the learn-as-you-go method.

I wasn’t the same person, therefore my old ways no longer worked in my new life.

I couldn’t just shoot up, swallow, or snort my pain away. I couldn’t just use the high as an excuse to let my tongue loose and not think about the consequences.

Which meant over the last four years everything I’d originally felt about Frankie had amplified.

Under the influence, everything was muted, and being sober was when the numbness lifted and you felt and saw everything in high definition.

Between how much he hurt me and how much I loved him, it was all like an anvil sitting on my chest, and knowing he was here, just made that anvil heavier.

I felt like I was drowning in feelings and emotions.

Feelings and emotions I’ve chosen not to deal with. But now he’s here, and just like my addiction, he’s all I can think about.

And just like my addiction, I couldn’t afford to relapse with him.

“I think I just need a plan so I can rip the Band-Aid off,” I tell Jenika. “I don’t want to be taken by surprise. I’ll talk to Clem and plan to meet him with the others around. The focus will be on Lennox and we’ll have no need to move past pleasantries.”

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