Page 54 of Addiction

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Asher

Breathe in…

Breathe out…

I pace around the top floor of the Gym. Today is the day.

Opening day.

The day when everything I’ve been planning comes to life. So why do I feel so goddamn nervous? Anxiety swirls in my stomach, and my heart pounds rapidly as the gym slowly fills and the voices from the floor below get louder. The talk of Resilience has had the city buzzing with both curiosity and excitement and if I’m honest, I couldn’t be more grateful. I just haven’t prepared to have this massive wedge in my chest at the thought of stepping out there to face all those people.

Mark has just called to say he is running late; Wade is nowhere to be fucking seen and I’m here trying to get my shit together.

“What the fuck is wrong with me, Gray?”

“Nothing is wrong with you but if you don’t try and breathe, you’ll give yourself a damn heart attack.”

“I feel sick.”

“It’s going to be all right. Just try and relax.” He grips hold of my arms doing everything he can to reassure me, but I’m so far gone I can’t think straight. Even Theo has bailed on me with an emergency.

When Nora, Mom, and Grayson had arrived, I’d made out that everything was okay, but one look at Grayson and he’d known it was bullshit. Seconds later, he was following me up the stairs to my office.

“Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours? This isn’t like you.”

I somehow manage a chuckle. “This is what sobriety does to you. Makes you a pussy.”

“Man, you have always been a pussy, regardless of your sobriety.”

“Dickhead.”

“This is the moment you’ve been waiting for.” He grips my shoulder harder. “Just relax and enjoy it.”

“How can I relax when all those people are down there? Not to mention the reporters. Who the fuck thought that was a good idea?”

I know we have to get our name out there, but when Mark had mentioned having a local news slot, I’d internally lost it.

Everything I’d been taught in my training, and everything I’ve learnt in order to cope with my feelings in recovery has all gone to shit. I feel more vulnerable than ever right now. I don’t do speeches, I never have, and where I was once that overconfident asshole who thought he ruled the world, he was only powered by liquor.

“Everyone down there is here for you and is rooting for you, Asher,” he says. Everything is going to be okay.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I believe in you. You’ve got this. You’re stronger than you think. You are a Nelson, a fighter, and you’re strong enough to go out there and face all those people.”

His eyes hold so much determination and strength that I envy him. But at the same time, I hear what he is saying. I can do this. I will do this.

“Go do it for your dad.”

His words hit me like a blow to the gut. I wish he was here to witness this moment. I wish he was standing with the rest of my family, feeling proud of me like I’ve always wanted him to be—like everyone has been telling me he was. I want to witness it, to feel it, deep in my core.

“I wish he was here.” I murmur.

“He is. He’s everywhere you look, Asher. Just because he’s not here in person doesn’t mean he’s not here at all.”

I nod, understanding his meaning as I say to myself. “I can do this.”