Page 98 of Wrecked
What would Jasmine say if she saw me?
Turning away, I continue on, walking through the streets and ignoring my body screaming at me for some painkillers and a bed. I walk until I find myself standing in front of an old building – the address printed on the card.
Forging ahead, I push through the double doors that loudly creak as they open and then clank shut behind me. There are no weird, judging looks in here. The few people that bothered to glance back at me look as though they've seen it all before. Maybe even seen something similar in the mirror a time or two.
I don't know when this meeting started, but there's some woman in baggy clothes speaking in front of everyone while she stares at the ground and twists her fingers together.
I feel so fucking uncomfortable in here and question why I came. But then the tears trailing down Jaz's cheeks flash in my mind as a little reminder. So, I grab a coffee from the table to my right and go take a seat in one of the empty chairs at the very back.
The woman who was speaking sits down again, and then a man dressed in a polo shirt with a business logo on it takes her place. He looks clean, freshly shaven, and presentable.
His eyes scan the room, pausing on me for a few seconds longer than the rest before he begins speaking. “It's been a while since I came to one of these. The name's Trent. Today . . . today marks ten years of being sober for me, so I knew this is where I wanted to be.” He drops his gaze to the ground, shakes his head, and then lifts it again, a bittersweet smile on his face. “Actually, that's bullshit. Where Iwantedto be was celebrating with my family, my beautiful wife, and my kids. But I lost them. I lost them a long time ago when I let the alcohol get the better of me. I let the lips of a bottle replace the lips of my wife. I let spending time in bed nursing a hangover replace spending time with my kids.” He locks eyes on me again but continues addressing the group. “You may not have the same situation as me, but I'll be damned if I let you make a similar mistake as me and regret it for the rest of your life.” Breaking eye contact, he adds. “I put a stack of cards with my number on it on the table with the coffee. If you ever want to meet up or just talk. Well, I'll be there.”
He sits down, rubbing a hand over his face a few times before looking up at the next person to get up.
I watch Trent for a few minutes, no longer paying attention to the person speaking. His facial expressions, the downcast eyes, unsmiling face, fuck, his pain is oozing from him, and I can feel it all the way over here. I can barely handle it.
I need air. I need to get out of here. I need . . . something.
Pushing to my feet, I start bustling toward the exit, making a detour to toss my empty coffee cup in the trash and then doing a double-take when I see the guy's cards on the table. I hesitate for half a second before snatching one up and then shoving the door open.
CHAPTER 40
JASMINE
“Thank you.” I take the mug from Tanisha and place it on the table next to me, out of Travis's reach, even though he's fast asleep. I snuggle him closer, sniffing at his head while closing my eyes.
I traveled back home to visit Tanisha and a few of my other friends on my two days off. A much-needed visit suggested by Graham which has only somewhat helped to clear my head.
I had been stuck in a loop of missing Walter like crazy and wondering whether or not I had made the right decision to walk away from Cam, wondering whether I was making a bigger problem out of something that wasn't really there, and wondering if I had just been in the wrong state of mind when he confronted me because I was a total wreck that day.
When the three of us were sitting around talking last night, I finally told them about Cam's alcohol problem. Not because I wanted to disclose his personal business but to get their perspective. Graham admitted how Cam had been drinking from a flask in the men's room the first time he met him, and somehow I wasn't even surprised, just saddened. And it helped to solidify what I said about him needing help.
Since then, my mind has been tracking back through our relationship, taking me on a journey through all of our interactions. I've tried to search for any indication that he was drinking or had managed to drink without me knowing, just like in the men's room with Graham. I've wondered if there was ever a time I was with him that he hadn't drunk anything.
But then I remember the mornings we woke up together, and I know at least in those moments, he was sober. That's also when he seemed happiest.
Even knowing about Cam's and Graham's first meeting doesn't stop me from wondering if I made the right choice, though.
“What are you thinking?” Tanisha asks.
Lifting my head, I open my eyes and look toward where she's now settled on the other couch. “I don't know. I just . . . Should I have stayed with him and helped him get better?”
Shaking her head, she blows on the hot liquid in her hands. “No, hon. From what you've told me, I don't think it would have helped. Maybe short term, but even then, probably not. He still drank while you were with him, right?”
My chin dips with a nod. He did. It hasn't made it any easier to be away from him, though.
“But he said I made him better.”
How much better? I'm not sure.
“Girl, someone who's relying on someone else to make them better is not going tostaybetter. It's not fair to put all of that on you, either. I think he needs to work his shit out on his own.” I pick up my drink and take a sip. I know she's right, and it's the same thing I had said to him. But it stillhurts.“And let's not forget the fact that he had a woman that he had screwed in the past, spend the night in his apartment, whether he did something with her or not, drunk or not. That shit does not sit right with me.”
“I know,” I agree quietly. It still has the ability to twist my stomach every time I think about it, even though he told me the circumstances surrounding it.
“I also think it will be good for you to reflect on some things as well,” she adds, holding her mug up so that it's half covering her face.
“What do you mean?”
