Page 52 of Your Biggest Downfall
I walked a few steps and stopped behind her so I could look over her shoulder.
She looked up at me, then back down at her computer. She wasn’t typing though. “He’s going to a thirty-day rehab. It wasn’t pretty, but he is going.”
I nodded... numbly. The coat of armor I’d conjured for myself this morning was coming in handy. I swallowed. No one else was going to tell me. I doubt he told his family who the girl was.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
I blinked, holding my eyes closed a little longer than usual. I never knew my father, never had or needed a man in my life, so men had always been a mystery to me—a distant, unapproachable concept. But then Austin showed up, crying at my door, and it shattered the illusion that men were these strong and emotionless beings. The same guy who had been doing blow off my ass hours earlier was bawling his eyes out. It hurt more than the shame I felt for myself.
I wasn’t used to seeing men like that—broken, raw, desperate. And I wasn’t used to feeling anything other than indifference toward them. But Austin’s tears, his pain, got under my skin in a way I hadn’t expected.
“I posted our official statement to all our social accounts, including emailing all necessary companies and persons.”
As I scanned the document, a wave of sadness swept through me. It wasn’t just about the situation—there was sadness for how deeply I had become entangled in something so destructive. I had allowed this to happen. I had let the pressure of wanting to impress Austin cloud my judgment. I got swept up in the thrill, the escape he promised, and I let it all happen.
But it wasn’t just about me. I let him fall too. I watched as he spiraled, and I did nothing to pull him back. He put his entire career on the line, and I didn’t stop him. The magnitude of that realization was overwhelming. How could I have been so blind, so wrapped up in my own desires that I didn’t see what was happening to him? I was disappointed that I hadn’t stopped Austin when I had the chance, but more than that, the crushinghumiliation of losing my virginity in a shitty bar bathroom weighed heavily on me.
I coughed a few times, trying to mask the pain, but it was impossible to ignore. I was drowning in a sea of regret, unable to breathe, unable to find a way to the surface. The reality of what I had done, what I had let happen, was suffocating.
“I, uh, this looks great.”Please don’t cry.I had worked all day not to break down, but the rush of emotions was colliding inside me all of a sudden. “I—I have to get to my mother. If there is anything else you need, then I can do it later?”
I backed away from her desk and tried to get to the door before the tears broke free.
“I’ll see you Tuesday” was Iris’s only response, and I was grateful nothing more needed to be said.
I grabbed my purse and walked out of the office. Reaching the entrance, I pushed open the doors. The moment I stepped outside, the sun’s warmth hit my face, a warmth that reminded me of being with Austin.
But that warmth was deceptive, a cruel contrast to the emptiness inside me. As I stepped farther into the sunlight, the weight of everything I’d been holding in finally broke me. My knees buckled, and I dropped to the ground. The tears I’d been fighting back all day flooded out, and I cried. I cried for the mess I was in, for the choices I’d made, for the pain I’d caused, and for the loss of something that had felt so good, if only for a moment.
I buried my face in my hands, the sobs racking my body as I let it all out. The world around me blurred, and it was just me, alone with my guilt and regret. The sun continued to beat down, and all I could do was cry, hoping that somehow, this outpouring of emotion would cleanse me, or at least numb the ache that had settled in my heart.
I’d let things go too far. I’d let myself be swept away by the excitement, by the desperate need to feel something other thanthe emptiness that had been gnawing at me for so long. I’d let him take me to that place, both physically and emotionally, and in doing so, I had betrayed everything I thought I stood for. I’d allowed myself to be complicit in his downward spiral, when I should have been the one to pull us both back before it went too far.
The shame burned through me, hotter than the sun on my face. I couldn’t escape the knowledge that I had crossed a line, one I couldn’t uncross. I cried because there was no undoing what had been done. I cried because I had let my guard down, because I had allowed my desires to make me willfully ignorant of the consequences. I cried because I had let him down, let myself down, and there was no going back. I bawled for my friend who was in an unfamiliar place.
I was stripped bare, exposed to the world and to myself, and the shame cut deep. This was a wound that would linger, a scar destined to stay for a long time. And as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t blame anyone else. This was on me. I had allowed it to happen, and now I had to live with it.
When I finally pulled myself up from the sidewalk, I grabbed my phone and looked up the nearest NA meeting. I needed to figure out how to be better for him. I needed to understand him more. After finding a meeting that supported friends and family members of addicts that started in a half hour, I got an Uber and went straight there.
The shame and regret hurt me, but I couldn’t let it define me. Austin was going to be gone for thirty days, but when he got back, I was going to be stronger. I was going to do my own work so I could be better.
I hated that I still wanted to be with him. I hated that I still got butterflies for him. I hated that he understood me on such a deep level, maybe even deeper than Luna ever understood me.
22
nova
Doing the work, even taking that first step, was harder than I’d expected. It was overwhelming to go to the NA meeting for family and friends. I spent most of it in silence, barely holding myself together as I listened to others share their stories. I cried more than I wanted to admit.
Someone there connected me to a therapist, and I left a voicemail, hoping they’d be covered by my insurance. It was just the beginning, but even that small step felt like progress. But as I got in the car and drove to Mami’s, I realized how broken I was.
I slammed the car into park the moment her house came into view and ran toward the front door.
“We weren’t expecting you,” Aunt Mae said as she opened the door, her voice warm but tinged with surprise.
The second I saw her, something inside me cracked, and I couldn’t get to her fast enough. I practically threw myself into her arms, clinging to her like she was the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely. I needed this hug more than anything. I needed the comfort of family, the familiarity of someone who knew me beyond the chaos I’d been living in. Even though I had cried and broken down in that meeting, it wasn’tthe same. No one there understood this pain, this deep-rooted ache, like my family did.
Aunt Mae held me tight, her embrace strong and reassuring. It was like she could sense how much I needed it, how desperately I was holding on. For a moment, I let myself be enveloped by her warmth, trying to soak in every bit of comfort she offered. The tears threatened to spill over again, but I swallowed them down, taking a deep breath as I pulled away.
