Page 59 of Your Biggest Downfall
austin
I pushed open the door to my apartment, not expecting anything special, but it was exactly as I had left it—completely empty. The driver had dropped me off, and I had a whole twelve hours to rest before the daunting meeting in the morning.
Before rehab, this would’ve been the perfect time to crack open a beer left over from a party the night before, but as I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, I realized my mom or Ledger had been here and cleared out every last drop of alcohol.
“Well, at least someone stocked it,” I mumbled and grabbed a sparkling water from the shelf. I popped it open and it sounded like the sound a good ice-cold beer made on a hot summer day.
“There he is,” a familiar feminine voice sang from down the end of the hallway.
“Aunt Emma?” I asked.
Emma was my mom’s best friend. My mom was a teenager when she had me, and my grandmother was a narcissist, so Emma was the only real stable person in my life. I was surprised to see her and not Mom here, but Ledger had forced them away from me, keeping his precious little family away from the big, bad druggie brother. Or so I felt.
“In the flesh.” Emma wrapped her arms around me and held me tight.
Emma had dyed her hair a reddish brown, and it was long, past her shoulders. Her hair was swept up into a bun, and she looked like she was still in her work outfit.
“Did you drive here from work?”
Emma lived in the town Mom grew up in, where I was raised in Michigan. Ann Arbor was close enough, but still a few hours’ drive.
“Yup,” Emma said, popping herp. She pulled open the fridge and grabbed a water bottle. “I came by to make sure someone was here to welcome you home.” She glanced around the empty apartment and laughed sadly. “Sorry I’m not your mom, buddy. She would’ve had the entire place decked out in banners and balloons, but all you get this time is little ole me.”
I put down my drink and walked over to her, wrapping her up in another hug. She was taller than Mom, but I was still far taller than Emma.
“Thanks for being here,” I whispered, genuinely grateful I didn’t have to come home to an empty house, especially after seeing Nova. “I appreciate it.”
Aunt Emma pulled away, then reached up and wrapped her finger around a curl. “I don’t agree with your mom and Ledger, for the record.”
I leaned back against the marble kitchen island, resting my hands on the edge of the counter. “What do you mean?”
Emma sighed. “I just mean, they should have been here. Going to rehab was a big deal, and I’m proud of you for going, completing the program, and coming back to get your life together. They should have shown up.”
She was right—they should have. But they weren’t here, and I couldn’t dwell on it without all those feelings rising to the surface. So I just shrugged.
“Don’t shrug at me,” Emma chided. “Seriously.”
“I don’t know what to say. I agree with you?”
Emma sighed again. “Your mom loves you, and she’s had a tough life, but sometimes I think her past and trauma make it hard for her to see that you’ve been through the same things. You’re both experiencing life for the first time, and she needs to cut you some slack. Just like she made mistakes, you will too.”
I offered a soft smile. “That’s why you’re here.”
She gestured toward the couch, and we walked over together. “Yeah, I guess that’s why I’m here.”
We sat down with our drinks, letting the silence settle in.
After a while, Emma broke it. “Are you going to tell me why?” she asked.
I knew this question was coming. I talked about Nova in therapy because it was a safe space. I told them she was my why.
“Why what?” I asked coyly, trying to buy myself a little more time to formulate a response.
Emma narrowed her eyes at me. “Really, Austin?”
I held up my hands. “Okay. Okay.”
“If you can’t tell me why, at least tell me how you let it get this far?”
