Page 121 of The Golden Hour

Everyone just talks about something positive. Big wins, and small wins. The beautiful moments they experienced in the last week.

And Mason finds that just sitting back and listening to these moments allows the adrenaline to bleed from his body. It’s a distraction from the horror penetrating his mind. Remembering that joy still exists and that life goes on feels healing.

And knowing that the two most precious humans in his life, his Honey and his Daisy, are sleeping peacefully, safe at home, makes the ache in his chest loosen.

Selena, an older woman with dark brown eyes and gray-streaked black hair, smiles at Mason. “We’re monopolizing the conversation. Mason, did you want to share anything?”

All the eyes in the room turn to Mason, but he doesn’t feel nervous, just a little unsure.

“I don’t… really know what to say.”

“Would it help if we all said what brought us here?” Selena asks.

Mason nods.

“Alcoholic. Sober ten years,” Selena says with a proud smile. “Your dad was my de facto sponsor. Talked me off the ledge more times than I can count. My marriage wouldn’t have survived without him.”

Selena shares a smile with Miguel, and the way both their hands drift to their wedding bands makes Mason smile.

“My marriage, however, didn’t survive my addiction. My wife called it quits after my second DUI,” Peter smiles wryly. He looks to be around Mason’s age, with shaggy blonde hair and a beard. His thumb glides over the gold ring still on his finger. “Sober five years from alcohol, though.”

Jim and Tanner pat his shoulder gently. Mason gives Peter a small smile, sympathy clutching at his chest at the regret lingering in Peter’s blue eyes. That could have been him. Honey could have called it quits. She would have been well within reason to call it quits.

And while they are in this limbo of being co-parents, he hopes to show Honey who he can be as a husband again. Because there is no Mason without Honey. There has never been a Mason without Honey, not the one who matters.

Each person goes around the room and tells Mason why they are there.

Sex addiction.

Pills.

Gambling.

Cocaine.

Shopping.

There’s no shame in anyone’s voice, there’s no judgment in anyone’s eyes, it’s just the truth out in the open.

It feels like victory.

“Thirty-four years and sixty-seven days sober,” Rob says proudly, and everyone in the room claps loudly for him. Rob’s smile then turns a little sad as he looks at Mason. “My sobriety was worth every torturous second in detox. The shakes, the sickness, the sweating. It was all worth it—I repaired my marriage, showed the love of my life that I was worth the second chance…”

Rob looks at Mason.

“And I got my son.”

Mason’s eyes sting as his dad lays a hand on his shoulder.

Rob’s own eyes shine as he whispers, “All the misery I fought through was worth it.”

Mason gives his dad a wobbly smile, but feels out of place in this room.

All of these people have serious addictions—real addictions. Things that affected their lives, their families, their jobs, their bodies.

But Mason doesn’t feel his situation fits.

I’m not like them.