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I have this awful habit of being a fate preacher to those around me. You know, that whole ‘oh, it’s so meant to be that you were in the right place at the right time’ bullshit.

Yes, I’m that annoying friend.

Yet, with my own circumstances, I shut it out. I was having a weak day, year, actually lifetime, the night I harmed myself. I’ll never forget that moment, the pain of losing Elijah even greater than the actual day I lost him in the hospital. For the sake of my son, I knew I needed help, just not from anyone close to me.

Taking that first step was extremely hard. I had to reach out to complete strangers. I didn’t expect him to be there, of all the places. I mean really, universe, what the fuck is that about?

At first, I had no idea it was him. Not willing to make eye contact with anyone as I shamefully sat covering my open wounds, ashamed and embarrassed I had resorted to this, knowing I had a son who needed me. The second time, I thought, fuck it. I’m here to make sense of my life. This fucked-up card Andy and I were dealt with needs purpose. That was the night I showed the world my mistakes. Scar after scar, adorning my wrists, a reminder of what my life had become, and fuck, was I angry.

It was the same night

he first spoke, and, for the first time, I looked into the group and could not believe he was there. Of course, I recognized him, though just like me, his was beaten down. That once-bright and handsome man no longer lit up the room. He appeared paler than I remembered him but definitely bulkier. His arms and toned physique left the drag queen next to him hyperventilating like a bitch in heat.

Okay, and maybe I wasn’t that immune to his looks. I mean seriously, even in his pathetic state, he still owned the room with his dashing face. The beard made him appear rugged, but it only added to his sex appeal.

I knew what happened with Charlie after Lex and Charlie got into a huge argument over the incident resulting in Charlie calling me in the middle of the night in tears. As usual, my immature brother couldn’t curb his jealousy, and it took some serious ass-whooping to get him to see the bigger picture—his wife and baby were saved.

It wasn’t an easy task recalling my conversation with him that night…

“Lex, he saved Charlie and the baby? Why can’t you be grateful for that?”

We stand in the hospital corridor, the eerie silence echoing the heavy breathing coming from my brother. His knuckles are stark white, and he grinds his teeth against his jaw while trying to contain himself.

“Why do you think he was there, Adriana?” he says calmly, followed by a loud bang of his fist against the wall. “Why the fuck do you think he was there?”

I saw the pain he was in by punching the wall to no avail. Fucking hell, now I was pissed off.

“Who fucking cares, Lex? What the fuck is wrong with you? You have a wife and baby,” I yell. “Until you lose them forever, don’t you even fucking dare complain.”

His face softens, but it’s too late. I’m worked up.

Fuck, he has pissed me off severely.

“I’m sorry, Adriana.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a selfish asshole, Lex. Forget Julian. You don’t ever have to see him again. Thank the Lord you’re blessed with everything you’ve ever wanted. If you can’t see that, then maybe you don’t deserve this life.” I storm off down the familiar corridor, leaving my brother behind.

My first instinct was to run, but the sadistic side of me, the ‘new’ Adriana, wanted to have fun and play games, torture Julian with my presence, anything to get my mind off my own existence. I learned at the first meeting, though, not to judge him. He’s just like the rest of us, and we’re all drowning. We wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for that.

I never anticipated forming a friendship with him.

He makes it so easy for me to talk about Elijah, something I miss doing. My family walks on eggshells around me, Lex being the worst. I get it, you know, Elijah’s death nearly cost him his marriage. I wasn’t that stupid, I saw it happening, and part of me knew I had to get better to please everyone around me.

On the inside, I was dead.

And what frightened me is Julian creating a spark in me.

What started off as a game quickly bit me in the ass. Ignore his looks, his generosity, his intelligence, his compassion, and the fact he’s the only person in this world I can’t have feelings for. I’m bound to Elijah forever. Married to my soul mate, who was unfairly taken from his son and me. I’m a whore for feeling a spark two years later for a man my brother loathed.

A man who has a past of being obsessively in love with my best friend.

It was the exact reason why the night he kissed me, I ran away.

I hated myself for wanting to kiss him, for wanting him to place his arms around me and wash away the fear which consumes me each day.

I hated myself for the split second that I smiled when his lips touched mine only to be overcome and wracked by guilt.

And most importantly, I hated myself for crying throughout the night holding onto a wedding photograph when all I could think about was the look on Julian’s face when I pulled away and ran.

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