Page 89 of Unwanted

Arlo catches my eye as they all take a seat; Samuel and a quiet, more reserved Rhys now permanent fixtures in our everyday lives. His eyes are undoubtedly as glassy as mine as I tip my head to the motley crew sitting around our table and smile.

We did good.

The jokes continue through lunch and everyone does in fact bring their A-Game with the house set up. By the time they all leave, the apartment couldn’t look any more perfect.

Closing the door after Clem, I turn to find Arlo standing in the kitchen and taking in his surroundings.

Sidling up behind him I kiss his cheek. “Everything looks great.” When he turns to look at me I see a glimpse of the emotions he’s been insistent on trying to hide every day.

“Hey.” I grab his face, forcing him to meet my gaze. “I’m proud of you.”

Swallowing down his emotions, he shakes his head at me. “Am I allowed to be this happy?”

“I hope so.” Grabbing his hand, I drag him toward our bedroom. “Because I have grand plans to spend forever trying to make you even happier.”

EPILOGUE

ARLO

It had been a while since I’d gotten up and spoken at a meeting. But the incident with Rhys left me a lot more shaken up than I like to admit.

While it reminded me that I wasn’t ever going to be cured, it also reminded me of how much I had to lose.

There was no distinct rule about the family members of addicts attending the meetings; they were usually more involved in support groups that were specific to them and not the addict.

But I wanted Frankie here with me. I wanted him to see and experience something that was a very big part of the man I had become.

Our joined hands were resting on my thigh and Frankie’s knee was bouncing nervously.

“Are you okay?” I ask him.

“Is it weird to be nervous?”

“About?”

He bit the inside of his cheek and mulled over my question. “I’m just honored you asked me to be here.”

I chuckle. “You always get it wrong.”

“Get what wrong?”

“I’m the one who’s honored. Privileged. Indebted. Whatever you want to call it, it’s me who feels that way about you being here.”

Frankie uses his free hand to brush his fingers down the side of my face. “One day you will understand the magnitude of my love for you. You will understand that all this”—he raises our joined hands in the air, gesturing to the meeting—“isn’t the ugly side of you. Do you know the strength, courage, and commitment it takes to live the life you do?

“The ability to put your health and sobriety first every day is something you need to be proud of, because without it, we wouldn’t have this.” He kisses our knuckles. “We would still be two men in love and breaking one another’s hearts. Over and over again. But now, we get to live this beautiful life. Together.”

He always knew the right things to say and when to say them.

Too often I got lost in my own head, and I was my own worst critic. But he was right, it was okay to be proud of myself every now and then.

Tilting my head, I kiss his cheek closest to me. “Thank you.”

“Welcome to today’s meeting,” Jenika says. “As always, it’s good to see both new and familiar faces. Now, would anyone like to come up and share with the group?”

Frankie squeezes my hand as I stand and volunteer myself and watch as every pair of eyes follows me to the makeshift lectern.

Jenika winks when I reach the front and I can’t help but roll my eyes at her.

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