Page 36 of Addicted to You
“Go ahead and take a seat.” She gestured to the plush chair across the desk from where she sat. “Before we get you set up in your room, we have some paperwork to get through.”
She placed a stack of papers in front of me, making sure to go over every one of them. They included admission agreements, a confidentiality statement, and a few physical and psychological questionnaires.
After I completed everything, she went over the facility’s rules and regulations. They all seemed reasonable, and I signed the form acknowledging their zero-tolerance policy regarding drugs and alcohol, as well as the other guidelines like no violence and no sex.
“Okay.” She placed everything into a folder labeled with my name. “Later today, our medical staff will perform an evaluation, and thenwe’ll review your specific treatment plan. But for now, I’ll show you to your room and you can get settled in.”
“Sounds good.”
The bedroom I’d call my own for the next thirty days was spacious and bright. An oversized chair sat next to two floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the ocean, and I could picture myself relaxing while watching the waves crash against the shore.
“I’ll give you some privacy. If you need anything at all, just ask.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
As soon as she left, I sat on the bed. It was nearly as comfortable as mine at home and a hundred times better than my bunk on the bus or some of the hotel rooms I had stayed in.
I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled slowly. While I still had my doubts about whether I needed rehab, I was going to give the program my all. Especially because there were a lot of people depending on me to get my shit together.
14
CASH
Three WeeksLater
Britt slippedon a cardigan over her dress, then checked her phone as she grabbed her bag from the counter. “I won’t be late,” she told me, not looking up.
I leaned against the kitchen doorway. “Where are you going again?”
“Jasmine’s place. A few of us are getting together for some wine and girl talk.” She glanced at me with a small smile. “You don’t mind, right?”
“No. Go have fun.”
“I’ll text you when I’m on my way home.”
She shut the door behind her with no kiss goodbye or even a hug. I stood there for a second, staring at the space she’d left behind, then pushed off the doorway and walked into the living room.
Turning on the TV, I scrolledthrough the menu and then settled on some cop show. The couch felt too big, and the apartment too quiet as it did most nights with Britt’s long hours she worked and the time she spent with her friends. Back in Houston, I had friends to call if I wanted to get out of the house for a while. Since moving to Boston, there was no one.
Just Britt.
The episodes blurred together until I tossed the remote aside and ran a hand down my face. Sitting around with nothing to do wasn’t going to help me feel any less lonely. I needed to get out and be around people, even if I wasn’t talking to them.
After ordering a ride to take me to Flanagan’s, I headed for the door. A beer and a change of scenery sounded better than another night staring at the walls. I’d thought not having a client at the moment would be better for me and Britt, but it seemed she spent all of her free time with her friends, and it was weighing on me.
The car dropped me off and when I walked inside, the bar was packed with people. A Red Sox game played on the TVs above the bar, and a few guys cheered when a double was hit into left field. I took a seat at the bar, ordered a beer, and half-watched the game.
“You into baseball?” the guy next to me asked, nodding toward the screen. He looked around my age, dressed casually in a Red Sox T-shirt and jeans.
“Yeah, grew up watching it,” I replied, taking a sip of my drink. “You?”
“Big time. Name’s Nate.” He offered a hand, and I shook it.
“Cash.”
He grinned. “You don’t sound like you’re from around here. Let me guess—Texas?”
I chuckled slightly. “Houston. Moved here in January.”
