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“Smile?” Haize felt her cheeks heat up.
“I walk in and you’re smiling ear to ear. What’s going on? I mean, not that you don’t ever smile, but this is different.”
Haize shrugged and sipped some water. “Nothing. Just had a good morning with my clients.”
“Did you do a session on your phone or something, because you were smiling at it like it had just professed its undying love to you.”
Her face felt hot, and she figured she was blushing as red as a tomato. “It’s nothing. I’m just savoring the good day. My clients were cooperative and I’m looking forward to the AA meeting tonight.” She couldn’t wait to see Mikey’s smile or the way his dark hair curled out from the brim of his cap. Subtle things he didn’t even realize made him so attractive.
“You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?” Amanda wagged a pen in front of Haize. “That’s a different smile because you’re actually seeing someone.”
“No. Of course not. This town is too small. There’s no one here for me.” Except an ex-convict who was early into his recovery and shouldn’t be seeing someone so soon.
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Haize. Who is he?” Amanda arched her eyebrow. “Or is it a she? No judgment here.”
“No, it’s not a she.”
“Ah, so who is he?”
“It’s not a he either, Amanda. I just had a good day is all.” She was starting to get annoyed at Amanda’s forcefulness and wasn’t sure how long she could control her temper.
Amanda smirked. “Whatever you say. I’ll find out. You know I will.”
“Did you need something?”
“Yeah, I came in to see if you could run into Alamogordo with me sometime this week. There’s a workshop there about sex addiction I’d like to go to, but the boss man says I need to take someone with me. He can’t justify the trip and expenses unless more than one of us goes. It’s not a topic I know a whole lot about, and a lot of my clients struggle with it.”
Sex addiction. It was a topic Haize was learning far too much about. And she suddenly felt terrible in knowing she had caused Michael’s sex addiction relapse. Had he been abstinent since getting out? That was a detail he hadn’t talked too much about. What criteria had to be met for a sex addiction relapse? What made a person a sex addict? Couldn’t all men fall under that category?
“Well, what do you think?”
“Yeah. I’ll go. I could learn more about it, too.” It’d be another way she could help him, though she wasn’t sure she could stop the sex. He was becoming her addiction, and it was dangerous for someone who had an addictive personality. They always said you replace one addiction with another, and though she wasn’t drinking or using, she now had Michael, and that could be just as dangerous if she didn’t control herself and slow down.
“It’s on Thursday. Starts at nine, so we’ll need to leave early.”
“Sounds good. I’ll put it on my calendar.”
“If I don’t know who you’re seeing by then, I’ll surely get it out of you on the drive over. I can’t wait to find out. You deserve it, Haize. He must be incredible to make you smile like you were when I walked in.”
“For the last time, Amanda, I’m not seeing anyone.”
“You’re a beautiful girl, Haize. It’s time you enjoy it. I have a client coming in. I gotta go.”
Haize stared down at her phone, wondering if she could skip out a little early. Amanda would find out about Michael. The whole town would find out. Rumors spread like gasoline poured on a fire. Maybe it would be okay. He wasn’t her client. They were just two addicts in recovery, supporting each other when a spark ignited. It could happen to anyone.
Did that make it right? Haize closed her laptop and stared out of the side window. Right or wrong, she was feeling things about Michael she had never experienced. She just hoped the world around them wouldn’t ruin everything. They had to stay sober. Go to meetings. Be careful.
Relapse was inevitable for someone in early recovery. It happened in over 85% of people fighting addiction. What would she do when Mikey had his first, and could she handle it knowing she was likely the cause?
Chapter Nineteen
Michael watched the rain fall from the kitchen window. Mitch was on the couch, beer in hand, watching some old western on the TV. He hadn’t officially told his brother about the progression of his and Haize’s relationship, and honestly, he wasn’t sure how much detail he’d divulge to his younger brother. It was none of his business, and he was making no effort to stay sober like they had talked about.
“You’re spending a lot of time with that woman. You didn’t come home the other night, and you go to a meeting every night now.”
Michael turned to face Mitch, his eyes falling to the amber bottle clutched in his hand. “So much for you staying sober too, huh?”
Mitch held the beer up and took a long pull from it. “I’m not on parole.”
