Page 115 of Retribution

I’ve got a bunch of paperwork to catch up on and classes today, I don’t have time for him to fill my head with his pathetic apology, for where he was last night. I continue drying my hair, occasionally casting a glance at Reed on the bed. He lays there completely unmoving.

Shutting off the hair dryer, I proceed to brush my hair and he sits up, coming back to life.

“Indie, can we talk?” He tries again.

My shoulders slump and I swivel around on the stool to face him, setting the brush in my lap. I look at him expectantly.

“Look, I’m so fucking sorry for yesterday. I failed you, I failed Willow, I let you all down and it’s not going to happen again. You don’t know too much about my past and I’m going to lay my cards on the table, I want to be completely open and honest with you.” He runs a hand through his hair and intertwines his hands in front of him.

“Many years ago, I fell into a seriously bad addiction with alcohol, I’ve got a long history with it and it began when my mother committed suicide. I was thirteen the first time I touched it, and I used it to numb the pain of losing my mother and losing my father at the same time. As you already know, he left us with my aunt after my mom passed, and I just kind of spiraled. It was a rough time, until I met Allie. She helped me get clean, sober and attended AA meetings with me, avoiding alcohol herself at the beginning, so I couldn’t fall back into temptation.”

The revelations have be in a choke hold, realizing all of the warning signs that I’d clearly missed.

“Well, when Allie died, I didn’t have her anymore. And with that, I kind of felt like my sobriety died alongside her too. I didn’t have my person anymore, and I’d fallen into a dark place, and strangely enough, you were there on the very first night that I relapsed.”

I gasp, remembering the bar, the complete wasted state he was in.

“Since that moment, I’ve continued to fall victim again and again to this horrible disease. I’ve used it as my crutch, to get by. When everything came to a head yesterday, the only thing I wanted to do was to run, to numb it all with the only way I knew how. I should have confided in you, I should have been there for you and I wasn’t, for that I am so incredibly sorry.”

I gently smile, hoping that he knows how much I appreciate his candor.

“I found myself at a bar on the outskirts of town, and I bought an entire bottle of whiskey to drink alone, to convince myself that I wasn’t alone. And, as if the universe decided to offer me a second chance, I met a group of guys. Everett, Devon, and Blake. At first, I was bitter and cold, only caring about the bottle in front of me. But, the longer they were there, the more I began to enjoy myself. I remember what it felt like to be alive, to be a normal guy and have friends. I’ve spent too long enthralled in my career I left out the most important parts of myself. My family and my friends.”

It feels like I’ve emptied my entire body of its water contents, but here I am, proving myself wrong.

“Devon drove me home; he didn’t drink at the bar. When I asked him why, he showed me his chip. I felt like I’d taken a step back in time, remembering my old self doing the same to a friend, I saved him from his illness. It really felt like fate had gifted my back the same kindness, he offered to be my sponsor. He gave me a card with the AA group contact details and I called them this morning whilst you were in the shower. I’ve taken leave from the office and I’m attending my first meeting tomorrow, I want my life back. I want Willow back,” he wails.

I rush over to him and he wraps his arms around my waist as he presses his face into my stomach. I cradle his head as he lets it all out, the sound of his pain reducing me to tears.

In another life, he is that little boy who lost his mother.

He is hurt, he is struggling, he needs help.

He sags against me, completely unguarded and tortured by the agony of his past and the torment of the future.

“This time, I’m doing it for me,” he sobs into my towel and I lean down, pressing a kiss into his hair as he hugs onto me like I’ll disappear if he lets go.

I peel him away from me and crouch down before him, looking into his bleeding eyes.

“We will get her back.” I comfort him, my voice stern.

He nods and grasps onto my hands, “Thank you,” he whispers as he presses a kiss to my forehead.

My eyes flutter closed and my heart fills with his love.

* * *

The class feels wrong, it feels empty.

Last time she wasn’t here, it was different. I knew she was coming back.

But this time, this time I’m not so sure. I’ve ran through every possible scenario, and I’ve drawn a blank every time. I don’t know much about the laws regarding children, I don’t know if it’s possible to gain custody over a family member unless there is something seriously wrong.

After the fourth class of the day, I retire to my office, feeling numb inside.

My students knew something was off, my heart wasn’t in it and with ballet your heart is at the forefront of your performance. The emotion flows out of your body with every move and if you aren’t there, it’s impossible to hide.

I pull open my laptop and begin to organize an advertisement for a ballet teacher. With everything going on at the moment, I need to be selective with my time, meaning I need to cut hours at the studio. It’s not even that I don’t want to, a bit of relief from this business really would set me free and give me time to work on myself, but it’s the fact I know Scott is still on my heels. I don’t want him to think I’m an easy push to selling up the studio, but I need a break.

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