Beauty in the Ashes

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. He held his arms out at his side and I dove in to his chest. His cologne, something woodsy and sweet, clung to his coat. My arms wrapped around his lean body. He was taller and more muscular than Caelan had been and it felt strange for a moment to hug him, but then I relaxed into it. His arms wound around my body and he brushed his lips against the top of my head. “It’s going to be okay.”

???

Caelan

I sat across from Alex, not saying a word. If he thought he was going to get me to talk about my past and feelings and shit then he was out of his mind

“I don’t understand the purpose of this,” I said, my voice a growl. “I thought this was rehab—as in, get me sober—not a fucking psych evaluation?”

“You’re a very angry young man,” Alex remarked. “Why do you think that is?”

I shook my head roughly. “No, no, no, no, no,” I chanted. “Do not answer a question with a question.”

Alex sighed heavily and adjusted the glasses he wore. “I can see you’re going to be one of the most difficult patients I’ve ever had. Lucky for you, or maybe not so lucky depending on your perspective, I love a challenge.”

“Seriously,” I muttered, “I don’t understand why this is necessary. I’m here to get clean, not hold hands and talk about my feelings.”

Alex sighed and fisted his dark hair between his fingers. He was clearly frustrated with me. Good.

“You and I both know why you need this,” he remarked and my eyes widened. “Don’t act so surprised. I do find out what I can about my patients. You see, an addict doesn’t become one because they want to. Who wakes up and says, ‘Today I want to throw my life away?’ No one, that’s who. Something has to trigger the need for such dangerous substances. True, some people grow up watching their parents do it and follow suit. Or they grow up where drugs are more prevalent than candy. But most people,” he pointed at me, “have been through something traumatic and they see it as a way of escaping. Guess what?” He eyed me. “You’re not. You’re only adding to your problems.”

I rolled my eyes and proceeded to slow clap. “Did they give you that diploma there for saying the most ridiculous things?” I pointed to the document in the fancy frame that hung on the wall behind his desk.

“No,” he shook his head and I swore his lips twitched as if he fought a smile. “I earned that after I got clean and decided I’d spend my life helping the very people that I once was. But you know something, Caelan?”

“What?” I asked when he didn’t continue.

“We’ll always be addicts. There will always be a fight and a struggle not to go back down that road.” He sat back and began rolling up one of the long sleeves of the button down he wore. He stretched his arm out in front of me. “See these?” He asked, pointing to the scars that adorned the veins of his arms. “They’re a constant reminder of the life I used to lead. These scars won’t go away, just like the ones inside you can’t see. But guess what, with my help and the others here you can learn to move past those negative thoughts whenever you have them,” he rolled his sleeve back down. “There will be good days and bad days—but if you work hard enough, one day those bad days won’t seem so…well, bad. You have to find something you love to grasp onto to carry you through the darkness. It doesn’t have to be a person, maybe a hobby,” he said, and instantly I thought of my art. “I want you to decide on a goal for yourself. That will be what you work towards. Strive to be something.”

I let his words sink in, mulling them over.

Alex looked at his watch and said, “Your session is almost over. But before you go, I want you to look at this.” He grabbed a picture frame off his desk and handed it to me. He tapped the top of it and said, “Getting better is a str

uggle, but it’s worth it. Don’t you want this for yourself?” He asked.

I stared at the picture of him, his wife, and two kids who were obviously his children. They were all smiling and happy. Alex held his youngest son in his arms and both wore beaming smiles.

Family.

“I do.”

CHAPTER 29

Sutton

“Did Memphis move in here or something?” Were the first words out of Daphne’s mouth when she entered my apartment.

“I’m happy to see you too,” I laughed.

“Answer the question,” she demanded as she looked around at all his stuff strewn everywhere.

“Well, if you’re really wanting to know if I’ve asked him to stay, the answer is a big fat no. He kind of never left,” I shrugged simply, picking up my evening cup of coffee. People that said coffee was bad for you were liars. I drank at least three cups a day and I was perfectly normal…well, almost. My nose crinkled at the smell of it. It seemed off. It hadn’t smelled like that when I had some earlier. “Does this smell weird to you?” I asked Daphne and held the cup out towards her.

She sniffed it and looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “It smells like coffee.”

I smelled it again and my stomach rolled. I put the cup down on the counter and stepped away from it. “I must be getting sick,” I mumbled. Now that I thought about it, I had felt fatigued the past week and slightly dizzy several times.

“How are you holding up?” Daphne asked as she sat on the couch. Man, she always knew how to make herself at home.