Page 76 of Worlds Collide

“I went to about a million weddings, one of them Hawk and Derek’s, I moved into my house at the ranch, I played a lot of tennis, had a bunch of doctor’s appointments, I started seeing CJ, and then I relapsed.”

“That’s quite the summary,” he muses, then he puts the notebook away and takes off his reading glasses to look me straight in the eyes. “There’s only four things I need to know so we can really start your recovery, Wolf.”

“I’m listening,” I tell him and sigh. I really do want to get this over with so I can move on.

“When did you first drink? What happened right before you drank this last time? Why did you choose to come back here? And do you actually want to be here?”

I swallow hard, knowing I’m about to confess something that I’ve been lying to myself about. I really thought I could control it.

“The first time I drank again was after my brother’s wedding in May,” I whisper, eyes downcast—I can’t bear to see the disappointment in another person’s face. “I realized I’d been a scumbag to CJ before I drank this time. I decided to come back here because I lost control when I drank again, and I knew I would do it again if I didn’t come here, and yes,” The last word is barely audible. “I want to stop hating myself so much.” I clench my teeth to keep the tears where they belong—inside my tear ducts.

“Thank you for telling me, Wolf,” Adrian tells me in his understanding, quiet voice. “What happened?”

I take a deep breath and spill it all out, starting with the first sip of that stupid glass of champagne. Then the first time I was with CJ, then the second one, then the pictures, the fight, then Hawk bringing him to the ranch. The fight with Hawk, how everything I’ve kept bottled up regarding his interview back in January just poured out of me, then finally I tell him about Italy.

How I’m pretty sure I was going to follow CJ to the ends of the earth, except I knew I would only hurt him more, then how I woke up with Rich shaking me, and the decision to come back here without talking to CJ.

I speak for so long that my throat is scratchy and dry by the time I’m done. Adrian brings me a bottle of water and I take it gratefully while he waits until he once more has my full attention.

“Did you thank Rich?” he asks, throwing me for a loop.

“What?”

“Well, it’s the second time he’s found you close to death and saved you. Have you thanked him?”

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. Well now, this is a new level on the piece-of-shit scale that I never thought I’d reach.

“No,” I answer finally.

“Thank God he’s here and you can start there,” he says happily.

“Yeah,” I say absentmindedly.

“Now, about your brother—” he starts.

“I really don’t want to see him, or Derek. They just make me feel like shit all the time. I’m never happy anymore when I’m around them.” I’m practically begging by the time I’m done.

“Wolf, you need to talk about things with your brother. And I meantalk, not have a screaming match with him or with Derek. Unless you’re planning on never seeing or talking to either of them again, you have to resolve it. I, of course, haven’t seen the way your relationship with them has transformed, but as far as I can tell, they love you. They want what’s best for you?—”

“What Hawk wants is to be thanked and adored for saving me when he didn’t do shit,” I growl at Adrian.

“Your brother is codependent, as is Derek. They both have diseases too and you know you are just as guilty of letting them baby you in the past. Just like it’s hard for you to adjust to them being a married couple, they’re going to have to adjust to you being sober. Which, from what you’ve told me, you haven’t and they haven’t either.”

I clamp my mouth shut then and stay quiet for a few minutes.

“Can I please just figure things out a bit more before you call them?”

“You have eight days,” he tells me mercilessly. “You have a lot of trauma, a lot of self-hatred, and you need to heal from your parents’ deaths before you can move on to how guilty you feel over everything that’s happened since. This is not going to be resolved in six weeks, or in eight weeks, Wolf.”

“I know that.”

“Do you really?” He pierces me with his all-seeing eyes.

“Maybe,” I mumble, dreading the next eight days.

“I’m going to call your family and tell them to come here in eight days, when I know Derek will be able to attend as well, and you will have a rational, emotional talk with them, and set down your limits. And they will do the same. So let’s get started on that before our session is over and you have to go thank Rich.”

“I have to do that today?” I demand in a voice thatdoes notsound like a whine.

---