Page 29 of The Plan

“I’m missing a step in my road to recovery, so I never really stayed sober for long.”

She nods in understanding. “So you called me to…” She leaves it in the air. Obviously wanting me to say it, not making this easy for me.

“To make amends. To apologize.” It’s annoying as fuck that I’ve been given “homework,” but here I am. Deep down, I know I need to make amends, and there’s no way I’m starting with Vidia, so I’m working it out with Lisette first.

“You were trying to help when I relapsed. You were being a good sister, and in return, I was a dick and threw your struggles in your face. It was fucked up, and so was not making an effort to apologize after I came home from rehab.”

After my life went to shit four years ago, I was supposed to get it all together with Lis since she’s the only one in my family that understands my addiction, but instead, I said I didn’t need her and was a bit of an asshole to basically everyone. While I apologized to everyone else, I never made much effort to really say sorry to Lis. Mainly because out of everyone, I knew I didn’t deserve her forgiveness.

She spins her straw in her cup but stays silent. I don’t talk about my addiction with anyone, and neither does she. Sure, I can talk to August or my mom and of course Sage, and now apparently Vid… I think. Either way, it’s different when you’re talking to someone who really gets it.

We’re all the other has, and I feel like shit for just leaving her all alone. Especially since she’s my fucking sister.

“I shouldn’t have treated you like you were the bad guy for trying to help me, but in all honestly, I wasn’t ready for help.” At the time, I still blamed myself for what happened to Vidia in that accident. I felt like I didn’t deserve to be saved, so I pushed away everyone who I knew would save me.

But then Vid came back to LA and went to that meeting with me. I knew it was weird for her, but she did it, so I could do the same and have a hard conversation with Lis. Hopefully, we can go back to how it was, especially since I promised I’d be her rock.

“You’re really good at apologizing without actually saying sorry.” She lightly laughs, and I give her a small smile. It isn’t funny, but she’s just laughing through her pain, as always.

“I’m sorry, Lisette—”

“My full name? Wow, you must really mean it.” She pouts her lip, and I roll my eyes at her dumbass.

“Shut up so I can get this over with.” She laughs again, and I continue. “The day I found out I was going to get adopted, we promised each other to get sober and to stick together.” She gives me a sad smile at the memory.

We were only fifteen when we stood in front of a toilet and watched a bunch of pills swirl away as we made that promise.

“I’m sorry I broke that promise. Don’t tell the twins, but… I think I care about you more than them, at least when it comes to this, so believe me when I say I felt like shit that I treated you like that. You don’t have to forgive me right now, but—”

“I do.” My eyes cut to hers, and when I see the sincerity in her face, I smile at her, relieved as fuck that she does. “Only because I really missed your dumbass.” I break into a laugh and throw the paper from my straw at her.

“Oh, by the way, I’m definitely telling August and Sage you love me more than them.” I kick her under the table, and she returns the blow harder.

“I said Icareabout you more than them and only about this. I never said I loved your annoying ass.” She throws her head back, laughing, and kicks me under the table again.

“You should not be talking about annoying.” Before I can give her a reply, the waiter comes up to us, asking for our order.

Lis keeps the conversation flowing, talking about her new pet. I bully her about being lonely enough to buy a turtle, and she kicks me from under the table so hard I’m sure I’m bruised.

We both know what’s coming, but I wait until our food gets here before asking. “Progress check?”

She avoids my eyes and moves her food with her fork. I take a few spoonfuls of my mashed potatoes while waiting for her response. After a few minutes, she looks at her watch and then says, “Forty-seven hours sober.” I go still.Shit. I knew she seemed off, but I wanted to believe she was doing better than that.

I’m suddenly not hungry anymore and put my spoon down, wiping my mouth with my napkin. Before I can say anything to her, she says, “I’m on the struggle bus, Sire.”

“Lis—”

“No, that’s an understatement. The bus I’m on is in the middle of the ocean, and I’m sinking.”

“You—”

“And the engine is about to blow, so now it’s just going to go up in flames and then sink like the Titanic.” She chuckles, and I briefly close my eyes. She's spiraling, and it’s clear she’s going to hit rock bottom soon.I should’ve reached out sooner.

I open my eyes and shake my head at the guilty thoughts. There's no point in blaming myself right now. “Do you want to go to rehab? I can—”

“No,” she says firmly. “I want to do this on my own. I need to.” I nod because I get that. Not wanting professional help. The need to know you can get sober on your own is sometimes greater than the need to drink or use drugs.

“Start working out with me.”

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