Page 104 of Wrecked
Getting to his feet, he tosses his coffee cup into the nearby trash before turning back to me. “That's the name and number of my therapist.” I glance at him in slight surprise. Trent always looks so put together that it never occurred to me that he'd be seeing a therapist. Besides that first day I saw him and the occasional flash of sadness I see cross his face, he always appears happy. I guess you can never tell what's going on underneath the surface or what someone's demons may be. Sometimes I even forget that he fought a drinking problem as well. “Unfortunately, I have to get back to work. Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah.” I offer him a grateful smile. “Thanks for meeting me.”
He drops a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Think about what I said.”
“I will,” I tell him with a small nod. “See ya.”
I stay for a little while longer after he leaves, ruminating over everything he said while I finish my coffee. Then after a short drive, I arrive back at my shitty apartment.
Standing just inside the doorway, I look around the space I've lived in for the past several years. I've always hated it and yet made myself stay living here.
I shuffle into the kitchen and then search through the pile of papers that are sitting on the counter. Once I've found what I'm looking for, I head over to the couch and place the business card Jasmine gave me a while back onto the coffee table, and the napkin Trent wrote on joins it.
I lean forward with my elbows on my knees, staring down at both of them.
I feel something unusual settling deep within my bones. It's hard to put into words what it is, but it's almost like the prospect of making some changes feels like the beginning of healing.
I know what I need to do.
And those changes need to begin with me.
CHAPTER 43
CAMPBELL
I recline my chair a little further, getting more comfortable as I wait for Jaz to get home. It's been a month since I saw her last at the hospital.
A month of going to therapy, often.
A month of getting my life on track,for me.
A month of healing.
And another month of being sober.
I feel like I'm ready.
After my latest therapy session, I felt an overwhelming need to see her. So, I went to the hospital first to see if she was working. A lovely older nurse told me she had left an hour earlier and was headed out for dinner with friends. At first, I was happy that a) she had become close enough with her co-workers now that she had shared that information with them, and b) she'd made some new friends to hang out and go to dinner with.
But then my mind changed lanes, and I started wondering if any of those friends she was with were men, andthathad me growing concerned. I drove here straight from the hospital and have been camped out ever since – to make sure she gets home safely, of course.
As I settle further into my chair, my phone starts ringing from its holder on the dash. My mood improves significantly at seeing who it is.
“Hello,” I answer immediately.
“Campbell, sorry about the late call. I just arrived back in the city.”
“It's no problem.”
“I heard you've had some good runs on the straight, and I took a look at your last few time slips. Impressive.”
I shift in my seat, a little uncomfortable with the praise but enjoying it all the same. “Thank you.”
“So listen. I'm going to be at the track tomorrow. How would you like to do a few laps and show me what you've got?”
I resist the urge to answer him way too quickly and instead stall myself by swallowing and then stretching out my legs. “That sounds good. I appreciate that.”
“Great. Come see me tomorrow morning around nine, we'll talk first, then go from there.”
