Page 129 of For Wrath and Redemption
Jonah fallsasleep wrapped around me, and his question echoes in my head.
A question I feel so viscerally it’s like I asked it myself.
What if I don’t deserve to grow back better?
He does.
He does, and so do I.
When I’m sure he won’t awaken, I slide out of his hold and take my phone into the main room. It’s almost midnight in New York, so my call is forwarded to the office answering system. When it beeps, I take a deep breath and leave a message.
“Hi. This is Claire Davis. I was a patient of Dr. Clay’s about a year ago. I was hoping to maybe get back onto her schedule. I, um...well, I’ve relapsed. If you could call me back, I would appreciate it.”
I leave my birthday and phone number, and when I hang up, I feel lighter. I feel like I have a purpose. A plan. I always feel better when I have a plan.
Then, I make a harder decision. I text my brother.
Me
Hey. It’s not an emergency, but I’d like to talk to you when you get a chance.
My phone rings within seconds of hitting send, and my heart starts to race. I want to panic. I want to hit ignore. I answer instead.
“Hey, Macon. I wasn’t expecting you to be awake.”
He laughs. “Yeah, well, Len wants lemonade Italian ice so I’m driving to the gas station. I don’t know if you saw but she’s pregnant.”
“Yeah.” My eyes sting with tears, and I force a swallow. “I saw. Congratulations. Is Gabe excited to be a big brother?”
My brother laughs again. “He’s got no idea what’s going on, honestly. But we’re excited.”
“Oh yeah, well, I guess he’s still pretty young...”
I trail off, and the music from Macon’s car radio floats on the silence. Fleetwood Mac. It causes more tears to well until they’re streaming down my cheeks.
“What’s up, Claire? It’s not like you to call and small talk.”
I blink. Straightforward, but not harsh. He’s right. We don’t small talk. We barely talk at all other than the occasional text, and even then, I’ve exchanged more texts with Lennon than him. I nod and sit up straighter.
“Right. I, um...Well, I have kind of a personal question, I guess. But I understand if it’s not something you want to share with me, so it’s okay if you?—”
“Just ask it. I’m an open book.”
“Right.” I inhale and exhale slowly. “Right. Well. When you got sober...what, um...What made you decide to do it? Was it hard?”
“Getting sober was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but the easiest decision I’ve ever made.”
“What do you mean?”
He goes quiet for a moment, and I wonder if he’ll actually answer, but when he does, it takes my breath away.
“The actual act of getting sober was like being skinned alive. It was a physical, mental, and emotional pain that, at the time, I thought would never end. But I knew that if I didn’t do it, I’d never be someone who deserved Lennon.”
I bite my cheek and wipe my eyes. “You did it for Lennon.”
“Yeah. But for myself, too. I needed to be someone worthy of her even if I didn’t think we’d ever be together.” He pauses briefly, and I hear the car engine and radio cut off. “I couldn’t love myself until I knew I was someone deserving of her love.”
I have to choke back a sob, the sound breathy and wet. My inhale is shaky.
