“Okay…” Silvia said gently, giving me space to breathe. “Would you like to reconnect?”
I looked at her and slumped slightly in the chair, my gaze dropping to my empty hands resting on my knees. I stared at them in silence. “It’s been too much time. I don’t think he’d want to.” I was certain my brother wanted nothing to do with me, especially after our last encounter.
“How do you know if you don’t ask?” she asked softly.
The next day, I picked up the phone and made the call I had been dreading ever since that session ended. My heart raced wildly in my chest, and a sudden coldness lodged deep inside my core. My fingers felt stiff as I held the phone to my ear.
“Hi Liam, this is Cole.”
The silence on Liam’s end made me wonder if he was even on the line. My stomach tightened.Is this a good idea?
Silvia had recommended that a conversation with my brother might bring a more profound sense of closure. She believed reconnecting with him—even just to talk—could give me the support I needed to heal.
Liam sighed heavily on the other end of the phone. “What do you want, Cole?”
The words stung, and I knew I deserved it. The memory of the cruel and bitter things I had said to him years ago rose in my mind, filling me with shame.
After my wife’s and daughter’s funeral, I’d gone back to my brother’s place. A simple remark from him had caused something inside me to snap.
“You’ve not lost your wife and child. You don’t know what it feels like,” I had said, my voice filled with rage and grief as I pushed him away. “The day you lose yours, then you have a right to say something to me. Leave me the hell alone.”
Even now, remembering those words made me cringe. They had been cruel and unforgivable. Liam had tried to keep in touch with me for a couple of months after the funeral, but I had pushed him away every single time. I never answered his calls. I never opened the door when he came by, even though I knew it was him standing outside.
“I… umm…” I struggled to find the words now, my throat tightening. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
Silence followed again.
“Okay. Anything else?”
I had never imagined my younger brother could sound so cold. Once upon a time, we had been inseparable. We had been each other’s best friends growing up.
“I thought…” I paused, trying to calm my breathing. “Maybe we could catch up and talk.”
“Hmm.” Liam sighed again. “You needed your time then… I need my time now. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”
Then he hung up.
I stood there staring at the phone in my hand for several minutes.I guess the closure with Liam will have to wait.
Anger and resentment surged through my veins. The stress of that conversation awakened a familiar tension deep in the pit of my stomach—one I recognized all too well.
The urge rose into a cyclone of temptation, sweeping away my restraint.
Talking to my brother, and the way the conversation had ended, made me want to drink.
I craved it now.
The thought wrapped around my mind like a dangerous promise, whispering that it would make me feel better—make this horrible feeling disappear, erase the memory of that conversation.
Before I could stop myself, I got into my car and drove to the liquor store. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as the craving pulsed through me.
I parked the car, jumped out, and walked toward the entrance. My footsteps felt heavy as I approached the glass doors. I reached out, about to open them.
Then I saw my reflection staring back at me in the glass.
The difference between my past and present stood before me like two different men.
I was no longer the long-haired, unkempt, stinking drunk who had wandered through life drowning in grief.I was no longer the broken, depressed alcoholic who needed a drink just to numb the pain of the past.
