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“Obviously,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “It’s the triple-A meeting, just like every Monday. But,” her voice drops low as she leans in, “your house is empty.” She shoots me a long look and my brows lift. “It shouldn’t be empty now that you have a new houseguest.”
She wiggles her fingers at me beneath her chin and I lift mine in a barely-there wave.
“So?” Eve still doesn’t get it, but I do.
That must be how she’s doing it—living a second life and camming behind everyone’s back. She does it when she’s home alone, taking advantage of the long hours Isaac spends away.
“Shouldn’t you be like, you know?” Oli waves her hands around in exasperation. Eve blinks in confusion so Oli makes a lewd gesture that I’m pretty sure is referring to a suction cup dildo and it finally dawns on Eve.
“Shut up,” she hisses, giving her friend a look that promises violence if she doesn’t close her mouth and I internally preen.
Bingo.
I was fucking right.
“Almost set up, girls?” Isaac calls, arranging the last chair before he checks his watch. “Meeting’s about to start.”
Eve rushes to set out the last tray of cookies and scrambles to pick up the trash. I roll my eyes. How fucking depressing.
“I’m done,” she calls, shooting Isaac a sweet smile. He pauses long enough to give her one back, but it quickly drops when the door opens and a guy I don’t recognize walks in.
Eve and Oli look up, both with unreadable expressions. Eve breaks first, shoving the trash into Oli’s arms. She dusts her hands across her dress and steps toward the newcomer, her hand already outstretched politely.
“Marcus,” she says in a soft, earnest voice I haven’t heard since coming back. “How’re you doing this evening?”
His grin is wide as he closes the distance between them, a look of gentle familiarity crossing his features. My feet drop to the floor with a quiet thud and my phone falls to my knee. I sit up a bit taller, content to remain invisible until I’m ready to be seen.
“About as good as can be expected,” he says, running a hand through his dark hair. It falls just below his ears in natural, floppy waves. “I can think of better things to do on a Monday than be at an AA meeting, but…“ He breaks off with an awkward shrug.
Eve smiles and rests her hand on his arm, giving it a soft squeeze that I instantly clock. His muscles flex, tightening the form fitting material of his white t-shirt. I do a quick scan of his body, my eyes narrowed.
He’s tall, probably an inch or so shorter than me, but similar in my size and build. He’s dressed casually in a tee and jeans but it’s the shiny leather shoes that throw me off. He’s not from around here. If he were, he’d know better than to kick it around the sticks with shoes like those.
“We’re just happy you’re here,” Eve says sweetly, making my attention snap back to her. “It’s a good thing, Marcus. You’ll see with time.”
If she were talking about the church, God, religion, I’d scoff, wondering where my Goldie went. The one who stayed up late at night debating theology and spirituality with me. But, I know she’s talking about the meeting and as much as I hate my father, I can’t fault anyone for seeking help in their recovery.
I may not have gone through the program, but I know it works. Kon swears by it. It’s because of him, and him alone, that I could pull myself from the pits of addiction. But, like a lot of addicts, I’m still in it most days.
The guy, Marcus, leans into her touch. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on hers.
Unable to help myself, I flick my gaze to my father’s, needing to see what he thinks of their interaction, but I find the stage empty.
Of fucking course.
He’s never where he should be when I need him.
Though her hand on his arm was a polite reassurance that she quickly dropped, his touch on her lower back is anything but, and I find the rage I constantly battle with rearing its ugly head.
I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t give a single shit, but with every person who looks at her, touches her, acts like they have a right to her when she was once mine…
I swallow thickly, shaking those thoughts away.
She hasn’t been mine in a long fucking time, and honestly, the more I watch her with my father—their casual touches, the way she preens under his gaze—the more I wonder if she ever was mine at all.
Marcus murmurs something to her too low for me to hear and she nods, that sweet smile still plastered on her pretty face. His hand falls away, and he tucks it into his pocket as he makes his way to the stage just as Isaac comes out from the back hall where his office is.
“You know,” Oli mutters sadly, pulling me from the conversation the two men are quietly having on stage. “I once knew a man who was a junkie until he found God.” Eve’s eyes snap up, wide and confused. “Found him the day he overdosed.”
