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My addiction would never go away, but the way I reacted to it could change. I’d proven that. Some days felt impossible while others were as easy as breathing. I just had to take it one day at a time.
“Are you referring to your sister?” she asked.
“Mainly,” I answered. “I took it out on her the most.” I cringed at the flood of memories that raced through my mind, a succession of sugary insults or downright ruthless behavior against my sister who was completely innocent in the matter.
I took a deep breath. I was making amends, and she’d already graciously forgiven me without even knowing my motivation behind all the awful things I’d done.
“My father…” I continued. “Some of the things I did to spite him, yes. And I’m not all that sorry for it.” I shrugged. “He constantly pitted me against and compared me to Persephone, even when it was clear we were two entirely different people. I don’t know if that is why he doesn’t like me as much or if it’s because I couldn’t shape myself into her carbon copy.” I shook my head. “Either way, it only agitated the situation about ten times more after…”
I let the statement hang there, my entire body clenching at the memory.
“Are you ready to open up to me about the incident?” Dr. Casson asked gently. “You’ve referred to it so many times in our past conversations like it was a catalyst for the spiral you admit to falling into right after.”
Ice coated my skin, my heartbeat kicking up a few notches at her direct question. Would explaining what happened help me move on from it? Would it somehow unhook its claws from me?
I honestly didn’t know, but I’d never told anyone before, and Dr. Casson had more than proved she was trustworthy. I just…God, I was terrified she’d hear my story and then accuse me of being a child for reacting the way I did toward my family, toward my sister.
“If you’re not ready—”
“I am,” I blurted out, surprising even myself. “I’ve never told anyone before,” I admitted. “And I’m not going to lie, I’m a little afraid you’ll end our sessions and call me an asshole for the way I behaved after. For the way I haven’t been able to get over it.”
She gave me an encouraging smile, nothing but sincerity in her rich brown eyes. She was my age, and if I pretended hard enough, I could imagine we were just two old friends sharing our darkest secrets over coffee.
“You know I would never,” she said, and I nodded.
Okay then, here goes nothing.
“Jim and I broke up senior year of high school,” I said, and a lump formed in my throat as I thought about the memory. I had to force myself to talk and breathe around it. “My father gave us an ultimatum—his go-to of cutting me off and excluding me from the family if I didn’t end things with Jim. I told Jim the truth, told him what my father threatened, and we both decided it would be better to take a break.” I shook my head, hating looking back on that scared, weak little eighteen-year-old. Wishing like hell I could shake her and tell her the money didn’t matter, the love did. The real kind of love, as young as it had been. Nothing had ever compared to it since.
“It broke my heart. Broke his too, I think,” I said, swallowing hard. “But I held it together by telling myself that it would be a short break. That I would prove to my father that we were the real deal after graduation and everything would work out.” I blew out a breath, my fingers shaking as the memory took hold. “Not long after, I went to a party the week of graduation,” I said, shame coating me like a wet blanket. “I was with people who weren’t really my friends, and my sister, who had begged and begged me to leave early. I’d already drank enough to wash away the pain of the breakup, and I was living in that moment of denial, the one where I never wanted the party to end.” I wrung my hands out, trying to stop the tingling sensation I felt there with my rising panic.
“Sephie left,” I continued. “Of course, she left. I told her to go. Told her I was fine and that I wanted to stay and dance some more. I wasn’t fine, but I wasn’t aware enough to realize that. I’d never drank that much before, but it was my first real taste at the sweet oblivion it could offer.”
Dr. Casson nodded, quiet and contemplative as I spoke.
“There was a guy from our class, Kent Donnley, who started dancing and flirting with me. Bringing me more drinks.”
Acid rolled in my stomach at the memory of his face, of Kent’s hands on my body. I could picture him as crystal clear as if he were in the room with us right now.Him, and yet I couldn’t remember what some of my ex-husbands looked like thanks to the alcohol-induced marriages they’d been.
“I thought he liked me,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I thought he was actually interested in me. I mean, he’d spent the whole night talking and drinking and dancing with me. And it felt good, to be paid attention to after I’d been forced to break up with Jim. After we’d both decided we’d be better off taking a break. I hate to admit it, but I’d wanted Jim to fight it. Wanted him to say ‘fuck your father’ and ask me to run away with him, but he didn’t. He was so…supportive in that way I loved about him.” I sighed. “Anyway, it felt good to feel…”
“Like someone thought you might be worth fighting for?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “As ridiculous as that sounds.”
“It’s not ridiculous,” she said. “It’s human.”
My eyes trailed to the side, tears crawling up my throat as I fell further into the memory, telling my story on autopilot as I tried to get the words out.
“You look just like her,” Kent said after he’d brought me to his room to show me his football trophies.
I stumbled, barely catching myself on the wall to stay standing. It was super dark in here.
“Can you turn on some more lights?” I asked, my head spinning. “How am I supposed to see your trophies if it’s so dark in here?” I asked when he didn’t say anything. There was a lone lamp on across the room, not fully lighting up the space.
“If it’s too bright we won’t be able to pretend, and I know you want to pretend with me, don’t you?”
I scrunched my brow, finishing the drink in my hand. I couldn’t even really taste what was in the cup anymore.
