Alexei (Chicago Blaze 5)

The therapist in me thinks his vulnerability is a positive step in the right direction. But the woman in me finds it sexy as hell.

Gia, on the other hand, isn’t making much progress. After the Beckett security director showed me the video of her coming onto Alexei in one of the center’s lounges last night, I had to talk to remind her of the rules this morning in our one-on-one session. She lifted her lips in a sneer and dismissed me.

I want to help her, but she’s not trying. She’s just continuing the behavior that landed her here.

When everyone sits back down, I restart our conversation.

“Addiction isn’t so much about the alcohol, drugs, sex or whatever we’re abusing, but about why we’re turning to it. We’re seeking something, and we don’t feel we can get it anywhere else. I know it’s hard to make that connection sometimes, but I want you to think about what you get from alcohol, drugs or sex that you can’t get anywhere else. If anyone wants to share out loud, that’s great, but you don’t have to.”

I look around the group. Joe has a puzzled expression. Melinda’s forehead is creased in thought. Gia arms are crossed as she looks up at the ceiling, bored. Alexei has his head bowed, his elbows resting on his knees.

“I get…no judgment,” Melinda says quietly. Everyone looks at her, and she continues. “My husband is successful, and even though he loves me unconditionally, I always feel like I have to be on in my life. I stayed home with my kids when they were growing up, and I was always driving someone somewhere, hosting a dinner party, shopping for the perfect prom dress…” She shakes her head. “I don’t know if this is making any sense.”

“It is,” Joe says. “I get what you’re saying. You have to be the perfect picture everyone sees you as.”

Melinda gives him a slight smile and says, “Alcohol doesn’t judge me. It doesn’t care what I’m wearing or what my hair looks like. I don’t have to say the right thing. I can just…drown. But I loved my life, before the accident, and I’m ashamed that I wanted to escape. I didn’t think I wanted to, but…”

A tear spills down her cheek. I wish I could walk over and hug her. Melinda has walked a painful road, and while many would say she brought it on herself, I can’t help feeling empathetic towards her. She’s told me at least once in every one-on-one session we’ve had that she’d give anything to be the one who died that night rather than the man she hit. I know she means it.

“I’m too far gone to find a healthy way of coping,” she says sadly. “But the rest of you…I hope you can.”

Alexei sits up tall and speaks up. “You’re not too far gone, Melinda.”

“I killed a boy. A nineteen-year-old boy. He had so much more life to live.” Her voice breaks with emotion. “I should be in prison but my husband got me the best defense attorney money can buy. There’s no coming back from what I’ve done.”

“Sounds like your husband still loves you,” Alexei says.

“I can’t imagine why.” Melinda wells up again. “I’ve disgraced our whole family. I’m a murderer.”

“Melinda,” I say gently, “murder is a calculated, cold-blooded crime. You made a tragic mistake. And that mistake is something you have to live with now, but it’s not all you are.”

Alexei meets my gaze across the circle of chairs, his blue eyes bright and mesmerizing. My heart kicks up and I swallow hard, looking down and grabbing my bottle of water to break the spell he has on me.

“I’ve slept with women and had no memory of it the next day,” Alexei says, looking at Melinda. “I got blackout drunk once and texted a good friend that I wanted to fuck his wife, and he won’t speak to me anymore. I’ve fallen down stairs. I pissed on the tires of a guy’s car once because he wouldn’t serve me anymore drinks, and his kids were inside it at the time.” He shakes his head, looking disgusted. “I could go on. Each and every time, it felt like I was just having a good time.”

“Sounds like you were,” Gia says, grinning.

“I’m over it,” Joe says, clearing his throat. “I wake up hungover as shit with my head pounding and the sound of my kids’ chatter makes it worse. I’m a shitty dad because of my drinking.”

Gia holds back her comment this time, and there’s a moment of somber silence as everyone sits alone with their thoughts.

“We can’t go back and undo things,” I say, “but every one of us is capable of change.”

“You mean every one of us, right?” Gia scoffs. “You’re not included in it. I bet you don’t drink, smoke or even swear.”