Page 8 of For All It's Worth
Chapter Three
Charlie
Afteraweekinthe hospital, I returned to my family's house, a place I hadn’t lived in since just after college some seven, eight years ago. Staying in my old room did nothing for my mood. The reminder of who I’d been before I royally fucked up my life was sobering, pun intended.
Mom fussed over me after settling me into my bed, fresh sheets carefully folded back. She’d hired a nurse even after I’d reminded her I wasn’t an invalid. I could go to the bathroom with no help and wasn’t going to keel over at a moment's notice, no matter what she thought.
I’d lain there in that space, with memories of life before it started to go wrong haunting me.
This wasn’t home to me. It was a gilded prison. The place where I was meant to conform to what my family wanted me to be. Home had been college with Max. The dorm, and then the apartment while we took classes. It was the tiny run-down house we’d shared with two other guys until Father insisted I at least lease something in line with my job.
In the back of my mind, there had always been a hope for some sort of job that wasn’t as soul-sucking as finance, so I’d been trying to save every penny so I could go out on my own. I’d thought I was finally onto something good with the clubs, but even that was being taken from me.
As I lay in bed, I reflected over the uncomfortable meeting that I’d had with Alex the day before. He had confirmed with my doctors that I was getting out of the hospital and into my family’s care, before going over what was going to happen to me after I’d healed more. He and Mom had a conversation in the corner before Mom came to break the news.
Rehab.
No questions. No option of saying no. My mom was utterly firm in her decision.
“You need to learn how to express how you feel without using alcohol and anything else to numb your pain.” Her voice was soft, the words sad.
The comment struck me hard and I stopped to consider her words. Is that what I’d been doing? Using endless nights of partying and sex to push away what I was feeling?
After Father had died, my anger at him, at Alex and Will, had exploded. I don’t think that I was sober for weeks. It was during that time that I’d met Will’s boyfriend, Ethan. It had been ridiculously easy to get him into bed the first time; Ethan was desperate for attention and Will was distracted. By the time I figured out that he wasn’t just getting it from me, he’d gotten what he’d wanted. Stupidly, it didn’t stop me from making a repeat of it, though. Ethan had been more than willing to hold my mistakes over my head when I tried to break it off. Ethan had been an addiction; knowing that I had the power to hurt Will with what we had been doing. There was a time that I used to get a sick sense of satisfaction when I remembered the look of horror on Will’s face when he caught us. I’d enjoyed hurting him, making him feel just a fraction of the pain I’d felt. Usually, it was then followed by a feeling of shame that I drowned with vodka. Now I just felt empty. It had been a hollow victory and made things so much worse.
As the third son, I’d always been overlooked and ignored. Alex and Will never really had any time for me, so when Alex took Will’s fiancee, Helena, from him, I thought I could fill those shoes, but Will ignored me. I tried time and time again to step up and be the friend that he needed, but he didn't want anything to do with me.
When Father died, Alex rose into his role in the company. The man had it all - the wife, the son, the job. I was pushed aside. It was made clear to me that I had to be like Will and forge my own path.
Except I wasn’t as talented or smart as Will. He was Mom’s favorite. The one that was a gifted artist, too.
“Darling.” Her voice interrupted my thoughts. “I think that you need this. You’ve been lost for so long and I’ve never known how to help you.”
I wanted to rage at her. Shout about feeling unimportant enough to her to do anything to help me. Rant about how I’d gone about destroying the life I’d managed to build for myself because no one seemed to care, aside from Max. He was my only constant. I cut those words off though because there was no point in causing more pain.
“I don’t want to go to rehab, Mom.”
“Charlie, my love, you’re not getting a choice in this. I won’t lose you to your demons.”
Then she made her excuses to leave to sort out her house for my return, leaving me alone with my oldest brother.
I was pretty sure that no one in my family knew that Alex and I hadn’t been alone like this for years.
Ever since my brief fling with Ethan, Alex hadn’t spoken to me any more than was necessary if we happened to be in the same room.
It was why I’d given up going to family events. Will got out of them because of Alex and Helena, and then me, but Alex had made it clear that I wasn’t welcome in any place that he was.
I didn’t understand him. What he had done was so much worse. He’d married his own brother’s fiancee after getting her pregnant. My thing with Ethan was nothing in comparison.
Alex had glared down at me until his anger burst out of him. His tirade about how irresponsible I was, how lucky I was to be alive, yadda yadda, went on and on until he had to sit down and take a breather.
Once he had calmed down, he outlined the steps he’d taken to look after my clubs while I would be in rehab. No choices were given to me; I was just to accept it and move on.
Guilt filled me when I thought of Alex’s prematurely lined face and the flecks of gray in his dark hair. Stress had worn at him and while I knew that a lot of his problems were of his own making, I couldn’t help but take on some guilt at the burden I was placing on him with the clubs.
I hadn’t given the clubs more than a passing thought since I’d been hurt. How they had managed until Alex stepped in and sorted everything out, I had no idea. There was a small burning flame of anger aimed at Alex. He hadn’t come back to the hospital after Max had visited. Not until he had a solid reason to. Alex still seemed to feel like it was his place to interfere in my life.
After spending the entire day in bed, when I woke the next morning I was bored and frustrated at looking at the same four walls.
