Playing (Inked Hearts 2)

It was the only way.

He steps down. Someone else steps up. A meeting leader. Something like that. I went to a few of these with Bree the first time she got sober. After her first relapse, I did everything I could to stop giving a shit.

Not that any of it worked.

He steps down. Points to someone in the crowd.

To Bree.

She stands and moves to the podium. Turns to face the room. Her eyes catch mine. They fill with concern.

I smile.

She smiles back. Mouths thank you.

I mouth don't mention it.

She looks to the room. "Hi. I'm Sabrina. And I'm an addict. Most of you know me. I'm here every week. It's been a tough two and a half months. I've been tempted. The other night, I went to the movies with a few friends. There was a bar at the theater. They didn't know I was sober, and I wasn't in the mood to talk about it. I kept looking at the Patron, thinking of how smooth it would taste, how easy it would be to forget that I'd totally fucked-up my brother's life. But I sat with the urge. I felt it. Then I felt it pass. It… It was okay. I wanted it, but I didn't need it." She nods to the room. "Thank you."

She moves back to her seat.

That same guy moves up to the podium, thanks her for speaking, invites someone else.

It goes like that for a while. Everyone spills their guts. Sometimes it's something happy. Pride over hitting a milestone. Sometimes it's a tragic tale of rock bottom. Sometimes it's something small. A slip or an almost slip.

Sometimes it's huge. The forgiveness of a loved one.

A life pieced back together.

The sense everything is going to be okay.

* * *

When the meeting clears out, I wait for Bree in the back of the room. She's different here. There's no heavy burden on her shoulders. It's like when we were kids.

She's happy. She's wise. She's looking forward to her future.

She finishes talking to a girl about her age then makes her way to me.

Her steps slow. She presses her lips together. "I never thought I'd see you here again."

"Me either."

Her voice is sincere. "Is everything okay with Iris?"

"Maybe. That's not why I'm here. At least not the main reason." I run my hand through my hair. This is not my strong suit. But I need to do it. "I'm sorry, Bree. I've been an ass to you."

"I deserved it."

"Maybe. But you were right. I wasn't gonna forgive you. Or myself. I was sure you'd keep fucking up. That can't have helped."

"I… I don't know what to say."

"I'm glad you're doing well. It means the fucking world to me."

Any nervousness falls from her expression. Her lips press into a smile. Her eyes fill with relief. "Really?"

"Yeah." I pull my sister into a hug.