Page 127 of Gravity

“I’m not proud of the man I’ve become. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

I know he hasn’t had a drink since the accident and is getting support for that, but I can’t help wondering if his fidgeting is through lack of alcohol or because he is generally messed up about not knowing how to put this right.

Knowing he needs some assurance. I leave my spot on the porch and sit beside him. I don’t want to talk about Nora right now. I don’t even want to talk about Pete. I need to try and get to the bottom of all of this, so I go right back to the time where I believe it all began.

Keeping my voice level, I rip off the band-aid."Why didn't you tell me you lost your entire team whilst out in Iraq? Why not tell me the whole story?”

His jaw tightens, his eyes slam shut, and the bouncing of his knee is replaced with heavy breaths. He’s distressed by just hearing the words.

"Because… because I was distracted. I took my eye off the ball, and I paid the price for that.”

I frown. If there’s one thing I know about Asher it’s that when it comes to doing his job, his eye is never off the game. You could scream in his ear whilst he stood pointing a gun at the target and he’d not even flinch.

“Why were you distracted?”

“Gray, please. I don’t want to do this now.” The exhaustion in his voice makes me wonder if this is the core of everything that has driven him to drink, or if he’s just tired from all the questioning he’s been put under today. Either way, it’s enough for me to know there is so much more to this than he’s letting on.

“I’m just trying to understand why you don’t talk about it.”

When he looks at me with unshed tears in his eyes, it tells me everything he’s yet to say. “Because it’s been easier for me to drink and push it aside than to talk and face up to it. I’m fucked up and I haven’t wanted to be a burden to anyone because there has been so much going on back home. I haven’t wanted to put more stress on others with my issues, so it’s been easier to remain silent and drink my demons away. Only as time has gone on, they’ve become louder."

Remorse rips me in two. I should have been there for him. I should have been more aware of those close to me, but when you’re wrapped up in your own heartbreak, fighting to keep the one person you love more than anything alive, it’s hard to be observant. It’s hard to look outwards when you’re drowning yourself.

"Do you realize how fucking hard it has been watching you lose yourself in booze when I lost my own mother because of it?"

"I saw it in your eyes, in the comments you made. I knew how much you hated what I was doing, and I hated myself for doing it, but I couldn't stop, Gray. It was the only thing that made sense in a world that was so confusing— still is confusing. The more I consumed the louder my nightmares were and the more I envied the people around me because I wanted what they had.”

“How do you mean?”

He leaves the space beside me and begins to pace the porch. His fist opens and closes as he strides. But it’s not with anger: it’s with frustration. I let him go because for the first time in as long as I can remember, he’s talking. It might not be making sense at times, but at least he’s doing what I’ve wanted him to do for so long.

“Mark with a family. Nora with her career focus. You because you had your life together and knew what direction you were headed in."

I scoff. "Watching my Mother die is hardly a direction I wanted to go in, Ash."

"You know what I mean. You are determined and confident. You worked your ass off for Hot Tuna and people respect you for that.” He stops, pushing his hand into his chest as he speaks. “I wanted that, but all I had—and still have—was a mind full of memories I didn't want and questions I’m struggling to find the answers to."

“What questions?”

His back straightens, his fist balls, causing his knuckles to go white as he looks away from me as if I have done wrong. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It clearly does if it’s bothering you. Talk to me. Let me help.”

“You can’t. No one can.” He lowers his head and blows out a heavy breath that tells me he’s still fighting—what I don’t know. He’s hidden from me for too long now; I can’t read him anymore. There was a time when I could—or at least I thought I could—only those times are gone, and I’m unsure if I’ll ever get them back.

“Ash.”

Turning to face me, his eyes are red, his skin paler than ever as if the life has been sucked from him, and his chest rises and falls. I’m confused because the man who was pacing and getting things off his chest minutes ago, now looks like he’s had his heart ripped out.

“I’m just messed up, Gray. I don’t know who or what I am anymore. My head is all over the place, and when I try to decide which direction to go in, everything comes back to the same thing where I still can’t think straight. And where I’ll reach for the bottle to stop it, I can’t do that now because I will lose everything.”

The thick lump in the back of my throat is almost choking as I watch him slowly breakdown in front of me. I hate seeing him like this, so distraught, so confused, and if I could take it all away from him, I would. So, I do the only thing that feels right at this time and admit the words I should have said a long time ago.

“I’m sorry for failing you as a friend.”

He shakes his head, his lip trembling. “No. I was the one that did that. I failed everyone. I ran away from Dad when he needed his son because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him and then lost him anyway. And instead of coming back to make it right, asking for forgiveness and admitting that I had a problem, the addict in me played games that nearly took Nora away from us all. What kind of person does that, Gray? What kind of monster have I become?”

The weight of his confession finally takes its toll, and he cracks, breaking down before me. I don’t think twice about my next move. Standing from the bench, I wrap my arms around him, holding on to him tight as I blink back the tears. I can’t hate him for what he’s done. How can I when it wasn’t him, it was the drink? If I want my friend back, I need to be beside him while he recovers. I’ve not forgiven him, that will take time, but I will not leave him to face this alone.