Page 9 of My Sweetest Obsession
Like Jack Daniels himself drove right over me last night…
And it’s only going to get worse.
So much worse.
This isn’t going to be an easy conversation, and it’s one I’ve been putting off for far too long. Both because it was too painful for me but also because Mom doesn’t deserve any of this. She’s better off not knowing what I did and what’s happened in the last four years or having to live with the fact that I caused Drew’s death.
But last night was a tipping point in more ways than one.
I slowly nod and throw back the covers, then slide my legs off the side of the mattress and onto the worn wood floor. The movement makes my stomach slosh, and I grit my teeth and gulp back its contents.
Fucking hell…
Squeezing my eyes closed, I inhale a few long breaths, then allow my lids to flutter open and push myself to my feet, stumbling slightly, using my free hand to catch myself against the brick wall.
Definitely not sober yet…
I stumble toward the kitchen with Mom watching every step I take. Her keen gaze tracks over me, taking in what is undoubtedly disheveled hair, a face that hasn’t been shaved in days, my bare chest, and the rumpled pants I slept—or more accurately, passed out—in.
Each step hurts as my entire body screams in protest.
But I can’t stay in bed anymore.
I can’t hide under the covers while she’s sitting right here, waiting for an explanation she more than deserves.
The sunlight streaming in from the windows makes me wince, and when I finally reach the island, I intentionally choose a seat that will allow me to settle with my back to the window, facing her, trying to give myself a little reprieve from the pounding in my head however I can.
I set my coffee on the counter and slide onto the stool, releasing a long, heavy exhale filled with all the things I haven’t been able to say to her over the last four years.
Some, I still don’t want to have to.
Some, I’ve wanted to so badly that keeping them from her has been as excruciating as my rift with Drew.
Even one of the things I have to reveal will break her.
But all of it?
This is going to destroy her the same way it did Ivy.
She’s already worried. The crinkles around her eyes, the furrow of her brow, and the hard set of her mouth all beg for answers. But nothing I tell her is going to assuage her fears or ease her distress.
Far from it.
I take another sip of my coffee, wincing when it hits my stomach. “There are some things I need to tell you.”
Her head bobs slightly. “That’s what Ivy said, and given the fact that she was apparently here with you, it seems like there are a lot of things you haven’t told me.”
“There are.”
I nod.
Where do I even start?
It all spiraled out of control so hard, so fast. And I spiraled even harder and faster. Caught up in a hurricane of emotions I didn’t know what to do with. Drowning in self-loathing, obsession, and guilt that only made it that much harder to find something solid to cling to.
But ultimately, there’s only one place I can start to attempt to explain to this woman why I’ve lied to her, why I’ve abandoned her, why I’ve let myself become someone I don’t even want to look at in the mirror anymore because all I see is him.
I have to start at the beginning. “Your birthday party four years ago…”
