Page 88 of My Sweetest Obsession
It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve stood up here and talked about this. Each time I do, the pressure in my chest builds until I can barely breathe and my heart feels like it’s being torn apart with each word.
But I make myself do it.
Because every time I discuss what happened, what I did, why I made those choices and the ones that led me into full-blown addiction, it reminds me why I can’t ever go back there.
I can’t try to hold in what I’m feeling because it inevitably eats me alive, and I can’t drown it with booze or drugs or anything else.
All I can do is face it—no matter how painful it might be.
Like this confession…
“After my brother died, I did my best to keep my distance from the thing that had become my obsession, my addiction, from the person who had replaced the drugs.” I offer her a sad smile, remembering that first month after Drew’s death, when I tried to stay away from her but found myself parked outside her house, wondering if she was okay and fighting the part of me that wanted to go to her. “But I couldn’t. I was too weak. And as time went on, my addiction to her and the feeling I got when I was around her only grew, and I continued to make terrible choices where she was concerned.”
Like not walking away that night in the alley after she followed me to the meeting…
Not forcing her to heed my warning…
When I kept returning to her house to dig through those boxes looking for that doll, when I could have just asked Mom to do it…
And when I pulled her into my lap that night to comfort her, to comfort me, after we said goodbye on that beach, knowing full damn well it was a horrible idea…
“I would love to blame all the terrible things I did on my drug use, but everything that happened with my brother and Ivy I did while I was sober. Except for the night that she saved my life.”
A tear trickles down her cheek, but she continues to hold my gaze. Not looking away even when I’m saying the hard things she probably doesn’t want to hear.
She doesn’t look away.
“I broke her with the truth that night, and she saw the addict for the first time. She saw me drunk and on the verge of ending over a year of being clean, all because I couldn’t deal with the guilt and pain in any healthy way.” I grip the medallion tightly, remembering how I took it off and chucked it across the studio after receiving the package from Drew. “And now, I find myself in an even more difficult position, knowing I should walk away, knowing that it probably isn’t healthy.” I shake my head, glancing at Dale, who gives me a knowing look after the many conversations we’ve had about the Ivy situation. “Okay—it definitely isn’t.”
I run my hand through my hair, struggling to find what I want to say.
“But I can’t just walk away because even though there are some things I can never make amends for, I’ve dedicated my life to at least trying where she’s concerned. And that means keeping my major trigger—the person I became so obsessed with that I let it control me—in my life. It means keeping all the guilt and pain that could make me pick up front and center on a daily basis.” I release a mirthless laugh. “And I know what a lot of you would say about that. Especially Dale.” I cut my gaze over to him, and he smirks. “But the truth is, it isn’t just about Ivy or my feelings for her anymore. My niece will be born before too long…”
My voice breaks, and I swallow at the lump in my throat.
In only a few short months, that miracle baby they tried so hard for, that they never thought would ever happen, will be here in this world. Knowing that makes it easy to bear the burden of the guilt that may never go away. It helps ease the pain even as I know looking at her will bring another wave of it crashing over me.
“Drew won’t be here to meet his daughter. And I know I don’t have any right to want it, but I need to be there, to help her learn about her father, to tell her all those stories only I know so she doesn’t miss out on what I took from her.”
I draw in a shaky breath and tighten my grip on the medallion to help ground myself to something.
“There are some things that can’t be forgiven, that can’t be fixed, and we all know that. We’re told that all we can do is accept responsibility for our actions and that we might never earn forgiveness from everyone we’ve hurt. But I’m going to keep trying. Even if I fail.”
I lift my gaze to find Ivy’s in the back row—unwavering.
“And even if one day Ivy comes to her senses and tells me to get fucking lost, I will still keep striving to find a way to make her life better, to make their baby’s life whole. Because that’s all that we can ever do, right? Try?”
27
CAM
Ivy opens the front door just as I step up onto the porch, as if she’s been waiting for me the same way I have been for this moment. For what feels like forever…
Because the first time I stood here, I came to her with guilt I couldn’t unload and longing I never thought would amount to anything.
I came to her seeking redemption I didn’t think was possible.
And when that package from Drew arrived, I knew it wasn’t.
