Page 14 of In Every Lifetime
My gaze softened.Mom. He had never called her that before. In the past, she was always his mother. “Why are you nervous?”
He smirked. “Sarah, this is my long lost brother. Wouldn’t it be more concerning if I weren’t nervous?”
“Okay, valid point. Why are you scared to go?” I asked.
I could see the wall go up in his mind. Gone was the jovial atmosphere, his shoulders tensing, his jaw clenching. He glanced down at his hands and moved the plate to the seat cushion next to him. I braced myself for whatever caused such a change in him.
It was my own fault anyway, for getting so comfortable with him. There was a reason I hadn't sought him out in the last six months. It was for my own safety. Not physical safety, Fai would never hurt me, not like that. But emotionally, I was screwed.
Unrequited love is one thing. Unrequited love with your ex-husband is a whole other ball game.
He let out a slow breath and sat up straighter, his feet dropping back to the floor with a soft thud. “I want to go, but I’m doing good right now.” His eyes met mine again, the caramel-brown irises shining in the firelight. “I’m sober. Six months, last week.” I could have cried from elation. I wanted to cheer and hug him, but he kept speaking. “I don’t want to relapse, and I don’t trust myself alone right now. Not yet, anyway.”
“Aren’t you alone now?” My eyes grew wide in shock at my own words, and Fai let out a hearty laugh.
“I know how you meant that, but damn, Sarah, you’ve got quite the bite on you,” he answered. “To answer what I think you were asking, I don’t live alone. Goldie more or less took me hostage and now I live with her. I'm never alone."
“Doesn’t she live in a studio?” I asked with a raised brow, imagining Fai on her couch in the renovated firehouse. It was a gorgeous space, but it wasn't built for two people with any reasonable expectation of privacy.
He nodded. “Like I said, I’m never truly alone. If I went, I wouldn’t just be alone, I’d be separated from my support system: Goldie, Daniel my sponsor, my usual AA meetings.” I felt the familiar sting in my chest, a reminder that I wasn’t part of that system anymore… by my own choice. “It’s bound to be an intense, highly emotional situation, in a city I don’t know. I’d be meeting my brother for the first time after a lifetime of believing I had no family. I’m scared that going could trigger a relapse. That’s the last thing I want.”
I turned it over in my mind, trying to think of a way to get him there without putting his sobriety at risk. "Can Goldie not go with you?"
He shook his head, defeated. “I know she would if I asked, but one of us needs to be at work. We can’t both take that much time off.”
I would have suggested Jackie if things were better between the two of them. I picked up the letter and read through it once again, skimming the words. There was one other solution, and hell, I was already invited. Well, Fai’s wife was invited in the letter. I assumed the PI Gabriel had hired had found Fai before the divorce was final.
“What if I came with you?” I asked quietly, my gaze slowly meeting his.
I held my breath as I waited for his answer, my heart pounding against my ribs. I couldn’t help but offer. Fai and I were no longer together, but it was impossible to untangle one another from each other's lives entirely. We had too much shared history, goodandbad.
“Sarah,” he said on a sigh, and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I can’t ask you to come. Not after everything.”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering, which I wouldn’t do if I didn’t mean it.”
He looked between my eyes, trying to decipher if it was true, and it was. I felt like I was in a good enough place to spend time with Fai, especially if he was sober, and I wanted to be there for him, supporting him the best way I knew how.
He nodded and smiled softly. “I have no way to thank you properly.”
I smiled wide. “So… we’re going?”
He nodded and let out a short laugh. “I mean, why wouldn’t I want to take a road trip to a city I’ve never been to, meet my long lost brother, and learn about my mother who gave me up for adoption, and do it all with my ex-wife? Sounds like the ideal scenario for any recovering alcoholic.”
I barked a laugh. “That or a bad plot line for a book.”
