Overtime
Page 31
Sitting up, he broke out of her hug and crossed his arms over his chest, swallowing his sob. “I’m not gonna make it,” he whispered. “You should just trade me and let me go ruin myself somewhere else, out of your sight.”
“No,” she said firmly. “Not gonna happen, because you are done ruining yourself.”
“Everything I try to do, everyone I love, I fuck over,” he breathed and she laced her fingers with his, pulling his attention to hers.
“Then stop. Don’t do it anymore. You know what you’ve done to hurt people, so don’t do it. Learn from your mistakes.”
Biting into his lip, he looked down before sucking in a breath. “She was pregnant with my baby and she lost it,” he whispered, and he heard the little intake of breath from Elli but didn’t dare to look up.
“Who?”
“Kacey.”
He finally looked up and her eyes were searching his. “But you never knew.”
“Nope, ’cause I ignored her. I cut off all ties because I couldn’t handle what I felt for her.”
She nodded slowly and then squeezed his hand. “Okay, how does that make you feel?”
He gave her a look and she shrugged. “What? Dr. Phil says that all the time.”
“Fucking hell,” he muttered before shaking his head. “I feel like shit. I feel like I failed her.”
“You did,” she said and he nodded. “But that was old Jordie. New Jordie needs to show her who he is, own up to his mistakes, and fix them.”
“I don’t deserve her though,” he admitted, but she set him with a look.
“You deserve to be happy, and if she makes you happy, then you deserve her. You’ve done such great things for yourself. Show her, show the world. But most of all, accept what you’ve done, be proud, and please don’t go back to what you were.”
Leaning forward, he rested his forehead on the steering wheel and closed his eyes. He did want to show off who he was now. He wanted Kacey to be proud, to love the better man he had become too. He wanted to make all his wrongs rights. He would listen, he would appreciate her, never lie or ignore her, he would give her the world. And most of all, he would love her more than life itself. He just needed the chance.
“I don’t think she’ll ever see it,” he admitted quietly.
Elli’s hand came to rest on the back of his neck and she whispered, “Not if you go back to the man you were.”
“I hurt her.”
“Yes. But will you do it again?”
He met her gaze and shook his head. “Never.”
“Okay, tell her that.”
“She won’t listen,” he said quietly. “She hates me.”
“Then show her.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, unsure how to do that.
“Or go back to the way you were and be wholly incomplete for the rest of your life,” she said in a very snippy way that caused him to look at her. Holding his gaze, she shook her head. “Doesn’t even seem right, does it?”
He shook his head, his vision blurring with tears. “No. I don’t want that.”
“Do you think your Mena Jane wants her goddaddy to be a drunk?”
“No.”
“And do you want to look in the mirror and see the man you were or the one you are fighting to become?”
His heart ached in his chest as he looked away, sucking in a breath. “I want to keep fighting.”
“Good,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “Now get out of the truck and grab that bottle.”
Unsure what she was doing, he still did as she asked and then looked over at her, embarrassment flooding all his senses. He couldn’t believe he’d come here. That he was that pathetic and sad.
Even though he was unable to look at her, she instructed him in her very stern, Mrs. Adler voice. “Now bust the bottle and know that that bottle, that liquid has no power over you. You are breaking that hold because it can’t control you.”
He glanced over at her and asked, “Did you see this on Dr. Phil?”
“Yes, but the poor, sweet woman, bless her heart, Jordie, she was 600 pounds! She was addicted to food, and he made her smash all these bottles of Coke and bags of chips. I cried like a baby,” she said, fanning her face, almost as if she was keeping in her tears. “Ugh, it killed me, but anyway, this is the same thing! Addiction is a nasty, mean disease, but you are so lucky because you have people who love you and want to help you fight it. You just have to allow them and be honest with who you are.”
A recovering alcoholic.
He looked away again and swallowed loudly, his shoulders taut and hurting. The bottle was so heavy and almost felt alien to him. He used to live off this stuff, but now it was foreign and he didn’t want it. A part of him hoped that he wouldn’t have drunk it if Elli hadn’t come to his truck, but the other part wasn’t so sure.
“Now smash it,” she said again and he held the bottle up, looking long and hard at it. It was sort of astonishing how something as simple as a colored liquid could make him neglect everything. It was also pathetic how badly he thought he needed it. Truth was, he didn’t. All he needed was the love and support of the people he loved. He knew if he had taken that drink, he would have been failing Kacey all over again and, for the first time, Mena.
And then himself.
He couldn’t do that any longer. He wanted to be a good man, he wanted to fight for it, so he slammed the bottle against the curb and it burst, glass flying as the fiery liquor spilled along the road. He stood there, watching as the liquid ran down the side of the road to the gutter and he shook his head. If he’d kept on that path, he’d be the one in the gutter, completely and utterly alone. He couldn’t allow that to happen. He didn’t want that to happen. He wanted to be healthy. The surprising thing was, as all the Jack ran down into the gutter, he did feel like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Weird, but he felt one more step closer to his recovery.
“No,” she said firmly. “Not gonna happen, because you are done ruining yourself.”
“Everything I try to do, everyone I love, I fuck over,” he breathed and she laced her fingers with his, pulling his attention to hers.
“Then stop. Don’t do it anymore. You know what you’ve done to hurt people, so don’t do it. Learn from your mistakes.”
Biting into his lip, he looked down before sucking in a breath. “She was pregnant with my baby and she lost it,” he whispered, and he heard the little intake of breath from Elli but didn’t dare to look up.
“Who?”
“Kacey.”
He finally looked up and her eyes were searching his. “But you never knew.”
“Nope, ’cause I ignored her. I cut off all ties because I couldn’t handle what I felt for her.”
She nodded slowly and then squeezed his hand. “Okay, how does that make you feel?”
He gave her a look and she shrugged. “What? Dr. Phil says that all the time.”
“Fucking hell,” he muttered before shaking his head. “I feel like shit. I feel like I failed her.”
“You did,” she said and he nodded. “But that was old Jordie. New Jordie needs to show her who he is, own up to his mistakes, and fix them.”
“I don’t deserve her though,” he admitted, but she set him with a look.
“You deserve to be happy, and if she makes you happy, then you deserve her. You’ve done such great things for yourself. Show her, show the world. But most of all, accept what you’ve done, be proud, and please don’t go back to what you were.”
Leaning forward, he rested his forehead on the steering wheel and closed his eyes. He did want to show off who he was now. He wanted Kacey to be proud, to love the better man he had become too. He wanted to make all his wrongs rights. He would listen, he would appreciate her, never lie or ignore her, he would give her the world. And most of all, he would love her more than life itself. He just needed the chance.
“I don’t think she’ll ever see it,” he admitted quietly.
Elli’s hand came to rest on the back of his neck and she whispered, “Not if you go back to the man you were.”
“I hurt her.”
“Yes. But will you do it again?”
He met her gaze and shook his head. “Never.”
“Okay, tell her that.”
“She won’t listen,” he said quietly. “She hates me.”
“Then show her.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, unsure how to do that.
“Or go back to the way you were and be wholly incomplete for the rest of your life,” she said in a very snippy way that caused him to look at her. Holding his gaze, she shook her head. “Doesn’t even seem right, does it?”
He shook his head, his vision blurring with tears. “No. I don’t want that.”
“Do you think your Mena Jane wants her goddaddy to be a drunk?”
“No.”
“And do you want to look in the mirror and see the man you were or the one you are fighting to become?”
His heart ached in his chest as he looked away, sucking in a breath. “I want to keep fighting.”
“Good,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “Now get out of the truck and grab that bottle.”
Unsure what she was doing, he still did as she asked and then looked over at her, embarrassment flooding all his senses. He couldn’t believe he’d come here. That he was that pathetic and sad.
Even though he was unable to look at her, she instructed him in her very stern, Mrs. Adler voice. “Now bust the bottle and know that that bottle, that liquid has no power over you. You are breaking that hold because it can’t control you.”
He glanced over at her and asked, “Did you see this on Dr. Phil?”
“Yes, but the poor, sweet woman, bless her heart, Jordie, she was 600 pounds! She was addicted to food, and he made her smash all these bottles of Coke and bags of chips. I cried like a baby,” she said, fanning her face, almost as if she was keeping in her tears. “Ugh, it killed me, but anyway, this is the same thing! Addiction is a nasty, mean disease, but you are so lucky because you have people who love you and want to help you fight it. You just have to allow them and be honest with who you are.”
A recovering alcoholic.
He looked away again and swallowed loudly, his shoulders taut and hurting. The bottle was so heavy and almost felt alien to him. He used to live off this stuff, but now it was foreign and he didn’t want it. A part of him hoped that he wouldn’t have drunk it if Elli hadn’t come to his truck, but the other part wasn’t so sure.
“Now smash it,” she said again and he held the bottle up, looking long and hard at it. It was sort of astonishing how something as simple as a colored liquid could make him neglect everything. It was also pathetic how badly he thought he needed it. Truth was, he didn’t. All he needed was the love and support of the people he loved. He knew if he had taken that drink, he would have been failing Kacey all over again and, for the first time, Mena.
And then himself.
He couldn’t do that any longer. He wanted to be a good man, he wanted to fight for it, so he slammed the bottle against the curb and it burst, glass flying as the fiery liquor spilled along the road. He stood there, watching as the liquid ran down the side of the road to the gutter and he shook his head. If he’d kept on that path, he’d be the one in the gutter, completely and utterly alone. He couldn’t allow that to happen. He didn’t want that to happen. He wanted to be healthy. The surprising thing was, as all the Jack ran down into the gutter, he did feel like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Weird, but he felt one more step closer to his recovery.
