Page 125 of For Wrath and Redemption
I groan, then squeeze her hands just to make sure she’s real. I turn slightly so I can rest my head atop Claire’s, and she leans into my chest. I inhale lavender and sugar, and I don’t let go of her hands. When I speak again, my voice is steadier.
“Everything is louder when I’m clean, anyway, but withdrawal amplifies things. Feelings. Worries. Fears. Everything is sharper. Stronger. The hospital would have bothered me no matter what, but right now...”
“Because you’re detoxing, it was worse.”
I hum. That’s putting it lightly.
“You’re supposed to manage your stress levels during detox. I picked one hell of a week to get clean.”
I say it as a joke, but I can tell from the way her body slouches that she doesn’t take it as one.
“I’m sorry. First my fall, and then the children’s hospital. God, I’msupposed to be helping, and all I’m doing is making things harder for you.”
“No. This isn’t on you.” I release her hands and wrap my arms around her. “You’re here. It helps more than you know. Just be here.”
“Okay. I’m here.”
Claire presses a soft kiss to my throat that I feel in my chest, then we sink into silence. I listen to her breathe. I imagine my heartbeat thrumming with hers. Our bodies syncing completely. Until every function of hers is in time with mine. She calms the storm in my head. The blood in my veins.
I love her. The thought makes my eyes burn with tears.
“Hey.” She leans back and looks up at me. “Want to play chess? I have this gorgeous new board I’m dying to break in.”
I give her a small smile and nod. “Yeah, Trouble. I do.”
“Good.” She stands, then gives me a smirk. “But put some pants on first. You’re naked.”
I laugh. I’d forgotten I was naked.
I walk to my side of the room and pull on some athletic shorts and a T-shirt while Claire sets her chess board up on her bed. I take some ibuprofen and try not to think about where Claire hid her Xanax. I don’t want to know. I don’t trust myself yet.
I can’t be with an addict.
Her pained words have been circling around in my head since she said them.
I’ve never considered myself an addict. Not even after almost dying from an overdose. When I was in rehab, I lied. I said what I needed to get released. I told myself I didn’t belong there. I thought just because I’m able to taper off and go a while without using that means I’m in control.
I’m not.
Something always brings me back to the pills. Anything to blunt my emotions. Anything to fog up my memories. Anything to dull reality.
Even after weeks of tapering, after wanting so badly to get sober and stay sober, I’d have taken those pills tonight without a second thought.
I’m not in control.
The truth is, Iaman addict, and that truth just makes me want to turn the room upside down in search of Claire’s Xanax.
33
JONAH
“I’m white?”I take a seat across from Claire on the bed, careful not to jostle the chess board between us. “Is that because after my detox, I’ll be pure as the driven snow?”
She rolls her eyes. “I thought you’d want the first move advantage. But if you don’t want it, fine.”
“I’ll take it.” I move my rook pawn up two spaces. “Your turn, Trouble.”
Claire smiles sweetly, then proceeds to hand me my ass in seven moves. Then she beats me in two more consecutive games just as swiftly. I rub my forehead and inhale slowly.
