Page 42 of Addiction

“Look at what I’ve done, Wade,” I bite back, now agitated. “Look at what I did to my family. To Nora. After everything, do you really believe that he would be proud?”

I look at him sternly before turning my head back to the water, internal anger grips my chest from everything I’ve done. Pop had nothing to be proud of. Nothing.

Agonizing silence falls between us, and I’m seconds away from leaving because of the way he’s now got me rattled when all he was doing was trying to understand. But his soft words that follow have me on the brink of caving.

“Asher. Your dad never witnessed any of that. He thought you left for California because of work not because you were troubled. And I wish you could have seen the look in his eyes when he said that his boy made him proud. Because you did. Pete died believing you were doing your job—a job you were passionate about. Everything that happened after was never witnessed by him.”

I swallow the thick lump in my throat, and I close my eyes when he places his hand on my arm, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise.

“I understand your guilt, believe me, but he never saw what you believe he did. He talked about you all the time. I’m not just saying it to make you feel better. I’m saying it because it’s true. Your dad knew you were a good man. You are a good man. And even if you feel like you’ve let him down in any way, now is your chance to make up for it. Be the man you want to be for him. But most importantly, be the man you want to be for yourself.”

Wade is right. I had been drinking when I was home because it was my way of coping with losing Wyatt and Pop having his stroke. But I’d hidden my problem well. It only worsened after Pop’s seizure and then I took the cowards way out and headed to California.

“Everyone is saying I’m a good person now, but it’s hard to see myself like that when I’ve caused so much pain and damage.”

“That’s understandable. But good things can come out of bad situations, Asher. You must be able to see that? The good in you did the right thing and held yourself accountable for getting behind the wheel of the car. The good in you spoke out about your addiction. The good in you is now looking toward a future. There is so much good in you, you just have to believe it.”

Why is this man being so caring when I’ve treated him like I have? “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because underneath your shitty attitude and sly remarks that I forever got back then, I could see the good in you even if you couldn’t. And now is no different.” Removing his hand from my arm, a wicked grin spreads across his face. “That and the fact I’m an awesome person.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Hell yeah. Why do you think everyone loves me so much?”

“I guess I’ll have to find out for myself.”

“I’ll look forward to that,” he grins.

“Thank you, though. Your advice means a lot.”

“Any time,” he says, standing. “I’m grateful that weapons weren’t involved. Your dad loved to throw shit at me in the beginning because he refused to take advice from someone younger than him.”

I chuckle. That sounds like Pop. He’d had a wicked sense of humor. Maybe I will eventually be able to remember our times together like I want to. Maybe I will eventually realize we did have great times, even though the few years prior to his death is all a blur. And maybe the man standing in front of me now can help me with that. If Pop had talked about me like Wade says, maybe he can help me remember what I feel I’ve lost.

“Come on, let’s go.”

I frown. “Where?”

“To get breakfast.”

“I never agreed to that,” I say, getting up to follow him. “But if you are paying, I’m in.”

“Wow. You are your father’s son that’s for sure. Pete never paid for anything either.”

I laugh. “Yeah. I can imagine.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Wade

“Good morning, Mr. Johnson. What a pleasure to see you again. And with company.”

“Good morning, Ellie,” I say to the young waitress who greets us as we enter Pocahontas Pancakes and Waffle House. It is one of my favorite places to have breakfast. With a large sea mural along the walls and windows, the quirkiness of the place has character.

“This is my friend, Asher.” I hook my thumb over my shoulder. “Don’t worry, he may look angry but he’s really a puppy dog.”

I hear Asher laugh behind me and I smile, heading to my usual table in the bottom corner by the window. Seeing him on the beach had been unexpected, but it’s given us a chance to chat without the interruption of others. I’d never intended to address the situation with Pete as early as I have, but everything just seemed to fall into place.