Page 2 of Worlds Collide

Of all the fuckingfeelingsthat have inundated my body ever since I stopped dimming them with booze, pride hasn’t been one I’ve had to deal with. I bet my sponsor would have a lot to say about that if I ever told her—which I won’t, what would be the point in that?

In any case, my grumpiness is probably just exacerbated because I’m tired. Today started extra early for me, and my brother wouldn’t be surprised to find out that I barely slept a couple of hours—my insomnia is his and Deedee’s fault after all.

Who in their right mind would askmeto marry them?

I thought no one who truly knew me would, but Deedee and Birdie are the only two people in the world who really know me, so I guess I was wrong.

At half past three in the morning I still had no idea what exactly I was going to say in front of all the guests when I married Hawk off to our best friend, but it was around four in the morning that I remembered Mom’s letters to us.

She left a whole box for Hawk and did the same for me, so I sprung up from the bed that was acting as my mental torture chamber, and raced to the room that’s supposed to be my office. It’s still full of unopened boxes from the move and I knew exactly where I’d packed the hardwood box, so it didn’t take me long to locate it. Then I flipped through what seemed like fifty envelopes until I found the one I was looking for.

“My Hawk’s Wedding Day” was written in her lovely cursive letters.

I didn’t open the envelope, I didn’t dare peek in because those aren’t the rules. Actually, the rule is that Hawk’s supposed to read the letter alone when I decide it’s time to give it to him, but I didn’t do that.

I brought Mom back to life for a precious, way-too-short minute in front of everyone my brother and our best friend decided to invite to their wedding. I let her speak through me, and honestly, nothing I could’ve ever come up with would’ve measured up to her words.

After that, I relaxed and knew there was no way I could butcher this wedding, not after I’d already made sure it was unforgettable.

Then I started off the party by singing “Some Kind Of Wonderful” so they could have their first dance, and as far as I’m concerned my duties of the day were fulfilled.

I felt inspired after, and wrote down a few lyrics that came to mind on my phone when I could get away from the party for a few minutes.

Now, though... Now I don’t know what to do with myself.

Apart from the Grammys in January and the Super Bowl in February, I haven’t been to any big events, so not drinking has been pretty easy. The only time I have to control myself is when I go to the grocery store and honestly, it’s not that hard.

I really wanted to toast my brother’s wedding today though, and having to do it with stupid sparkling water seems like such a loser move.

Of course, I don’t just feel like a loser, I’m well aware that I am one.

Weak, stupid, and guilty loser.

Those are the only words I can honestly use to describe myself.

Though I guess I’m a pretty good brother, too. I did something I definitely didn’t want to for Birdie, and now I’m at this party, surrounded by alcohol, when I want nothing more than to flee to my house and do my best to drown the music which is probably sounding all over the ranch that’s not a ranch—we don’t have cattle no matter how much Hawk wants us to get some.

From across the pool, I see Derek reluctantly reach for Hawk’shand and pull him in for a dance. Sitting on the end of a lounger alone, with my stupid sparkling water, I feel more alone than I have since I left rehab. I’m surrounded by people, some of them I know well, some I even like, but none of them would do for me what they would do for Derek and Hawk.

I’m notinthe friend group, just by association.

I don’t want to be, in any case. I don’t need a million friends butting into my business every day. Having so many people to care about can only lead to pain.

The sting of thinking about why I’m like this is as sharp as ever. I rub my eyes to try and push the memories back. I can’t think about Mom any more today. Normally, I only let myself think about her when I’m in a meeting. That’s when I feel the strongest because it’s when I have undeniable evidence that I’ve conquered myself, that I have control over my life. I talk about her a lot in AA, it’s the only thing that gets me through it actually. Knowing that I can talk and cry and wish she was here without anyone else suffering because of what I say.

I don’t have that with Hawk.

I look away from my brother’s happy face and my gaze lands right on CJ Sounders.

Another one of Derek’s college friends, he moved to LA a few weeks ago because he’s doing his surgery residency at the Children’s Hospital.

All I know about the dude is that he has a hero complex for sure.

He smirks at Adam, and the familiarity I see between those two reminds me of the way Hawk looks at me when he’s being a pain in the ass and knows it.

From what Derek’s told Hawk—a conversation I pretended I wasn’t overhearing—Adam and CJ have been best friends sincethey were in diapers. “Inseparable and practically family” were his words actually.

With his dirty blond hair, a sharp jaw and nose, his wide shoulders, slim but muscular build, and easy stance, he looks—and is—the typical trust-fund baby. But then again, not just any trust fund.

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