Page 44 of Unloved

Hungry after my workout, I quickly glance at the small menu resting in the middle of the table. “And can I also have an iced coffee and a bagel with cream cheese?”

The waiter punches our order into the tablet before offering a warm smile and walking away.

My eyes find Jenika’s, and I can tell the disruption has not impacted her ability to follow our conversation.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

“Did you know Arlo didn’t date anyone for four years?” I know it isn’t protocol to talk about other people, but I hoped in this case Arlo wouldn’t mind. “He said it helped him focus on his sobriety.”

“Okay,” she drawls. “Are you going to make me connect the dots, or are you going to spit out the question?”

I shrug. “I’m just curious about relationships and recovery.”

“I mean”—she waves her hand in the air—“there is no hard and fast rule about it all, especially because nobody’s journey is exactly the same. But the important thing to know is the difference between emotional and physical intimacy.” I nod in understanding and she continues her explanation. “It’s important to build on the emotional connection with someone before you develop a physical relationship, especially when sex is so often tied into addiction.

“It can prompt a relapse if your mind has always connected drugs and sex together. And for others, sex can become their new addiction. A new high to chase.”

Her words not only make me feel hopeful, but her explanation isn’t convoluted or misleading.

If I set myself parameters and expectations, then maybe, just once, I can have my cake and eat it too. I think back to this morning and Samuel’s insistence on complete transparency, and that thought alone makes me feel a little less hopeless.

Unlike my family, I know I can talk to them, and I know, wholeheartedly they will listen.

“I got a text from my dad yesterday,” I blurt out.

The shift in Jenika’s demeanor is obvious, and if she was trying to hide it, she isn’t doing a very good job. We discussed my triggers in our early meetups, so I know exactly why her hackles have risen.

“And?”

“He said we need to talk.”

“Did you respond?”

I slowly nod, feeling shame under Jenika’s stare that I don’t have the strength to ignore him. But I was forever hoping that with each message exchanged, the next one would be the one where he said he forgave me; the one where he would tell me how much he loved me and missed me. Where he at least allowed me to see my sister.

“What if this time is finally the time he lets me see Kayla?” I hate the hope in my voice, when experience has shown me time and time again, he just loves to fuck with me.

“I can’t tell you what to do here,” she says. “He’s your dad, and I know you want to make amends with him. But just like you asked me earlier about relationships, familial relationships can also be toxic and a trigger to start using again. You might want to give yourself the chance to be in a better and stronger place before you face him.”

I hate how he’s the asshole but it ends up being my weaknesses that are always under the microscope.

“She’s ten this year,” I remind Jenika, feeling nothing but regret as I think of my sister. “At this point she probably doesn’t even remember me.”

“Rhys,” she says firmly, trying to pull me back from the proverbial edge. “It’s one day at a time, remember?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi.

“I can’t go another year without seeing her,” I confess. “It’ll kill me.”

I didn’t say those words to be dramatic, they’re the absolute truth. Every day without her I die a little more inside, and he knows that. He depends on it.

In his world, he sees nothing wrong with handing me the loaded gun, because he’ll always be blame-free if I’m the one to pull the trigger.

16

LENNOX

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