Page 176 of Breaking Point
Fuck.
The guilt that consumes me is so heady my chest starts toache with so much pain I squeeze my eyes closed. Two fucking months. All that hard work.Gone.
I’m going to have to face everyone at AA.
Running a hand through my hair, I’m disgusted to feel how sweaty it is. I roll over, only to come face-to-face with a note lying on my bedside table.
Scrambling upwards, I finally realize I’m still in the same clothes from two days ago.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I mutter to myself.
I recognize Bella’s neat handwriting on the note instantly and that never-ending pit of guilt gapes open, swallowing me whole like a landslide.
I changed the code on her.
There was not a single part of me that wanted Bella to see me like that. Even intoxicated, I knew I needed to keep her away. So I changed it and ignored her. Ignoredeveryone. Kieran and my parents were blowing up my phone too; Bella wasn’t the only one to try and come to the house. The last thing I remember of the weekend is switching off my phone, sitting on the deck with Bambi, and sobbing into a bottle of Jack Daniels.
I expect it to be a resignation letter, or her scolding me, but it’s neither. In fact, it has my brows shooting into my hair line.
We have lunch plans at 2 p.m. Come downstairs when you’re ready.
I flip the card over, searching for another message. Surely there’s something else. I have no doubt it’s Bella’s doing that I’m safely in bed, so why didn’t she say anything about me falling off the wagon?
Maybe the lecture is waiting for me downstairs.
The thought has a taste of sourness coating my tongue. Or maybe that’s just bile. Not wanting to take my chances, I slide off the bed, strip the clothes I’ve been in for two days, and head for my shower.
After I feel slightly more human, I make my way downstairsgingerly, my head still throbbing. It’s quiet, borderline too quiet. I think I’ve daydreamed the note until déjà vu hits me.
Standing in the middle of the living room is Bella, blinking up at me with wide brown eyes, as Bambi comes rushing to me from her side.
Judging by the tracks in the rug, she was pacing.
Rubbing the back of my neck, I give her a sheepish smile. “I want to say hi but that feels like the wrong thing to do,” I admit.
She nods, her lips slightly pursed. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not disappointed but I understand why you slipped.”
That was the last thing I expected her to say. “You do?”
She looks at me then—really looks at me. “How much do you remember from last night?”
I blow out a breath, moving to take a seat on the couch. “Not much, truth be told. The last memory I have is turning my phone off.”
She takes a seat next to me, nodding to herself. I swallow thickly as her scent surrounds me, the citrus smell soothing the buzzing in my chest.
She places her hand on my leg. As she lifts those brown eyes, my heart stops.
“I’m going to start talking and I need you to let me finish.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
She licks her lips. “Because I’m going to say some harsh truths and I want to make sure you truly hearthem.”
The way she’s speaking has my back straightening. I sit sideways, facing her head-on, steeling myself for the worst.
What if this is the last time I see Bella?
“It’s okay, you can say it.”
