Page 70 of Sweet Little Lies
Scared of what will happen to us. Scared mostly of losing him.
What if during his stint in rehab he comes to the conclusion that he doesn’t want to be with me anymore? Or he meets someone else who understands what he’s gone through better than me. It’s not unheard of when spouses or partners enter programs such as this and when they return, they look at their lives differently. The changes they need to make are difficult and life altering.
The worry grips me, but the positive side is at least Lance is alive. And while it crushes me to know he doesn’t want to see me and I may never again get to be with him, it’s still a beautiful miracle that he didn’t die.
When I called and heard all the commotion in the background that night when Lance OD’d, I was inconsolable. Thank God someone at the party had the wherewithal to call an ambulance and get him to the hospital.
I guess the hospital administrative staff called his emergency contact, which happened to be his father. I know their relationship is strained and estranged, but at least he made sure he got the medical attention he needed and called Cade to let him know what was going on.
Whatever secrets Lance has about his past and the estrangement between he and his father, I hope at the very least he can come to better grips with it through counseling and the rehab program. He’ll need someone to equip him with better coping mechanisms so he doesn’t fall back into drugs and alcohol that he has been using in the past.
Ainsley and I sip wine on the couch and talk for a while until we here the door open and Cade walks in looking haggard and defeated.
“Hey babe,” Ainsley greets, as he walks over and places a chaste kiss on the top of her head. He accepts the wine glass she hands him and takes a drink before passing it back.
Cade scrubs a hand over his face. I’m sure he hasn’t gotten much sleep between work and being at the hospital the last three days.
“How’d it go?”
He sits down on the edge of the coffee table, bending at the waist and places his elbows on his knees, chin in his hand.
“They got him checked in to the rehab center. He didn’t say much, which worries me. But then again, he’s going through detox and he was in rough shape there for a while.”
Through our nursing program, I’m very familiar with the effects of withdrawal on a body and the excruciating pain and agony that opiate addicts experience when they quit. The medical staff constantly monitors their vitals and pain levels to manage the process. It generally starts with body sweats, fevers, chills, flu-like symptoms such as vomiting and diarrhea. Depending on the level of detox required, they may also administer some medications to help ease the transition to avoid the cold-turkey health risks such as heart attack or organ shut-downs.
I cringe hoping that Lance didn’t get to that level of discomfort. God, my heart hurts for him.
Fearful of the answer, but needing to know, I finally get up the nerve to ask.
“Do you think he’ll stay in rehab? Does he want to get better?”
Regardless of whether he wants to see me or be with me anymore, I still love Lance and only want him to get well. This is only the first step and it’ll surely be a long road to recovery and sobriety.
Cade shrugs, his broad shoulders indicating a true uncertainty about his friend’s position.
“This is so fucked up,” he laments, running his hand through his hair. “Had we noticed and done something about it last year, it wouldn’t have gone this far. He could have fucking died and we didn’t do anything to prevent it.”
He stands suddenly and begins pacing, as Ainsley and I exchange a worried look. We know Carver and Cade are beating themselves up for not seeing Lance’s addictive behaviors, just like I am, but that’s the thing. Addicts will hide and lie so no one knows. They lie to themselves, too.
Ainsley stands up and encircles her arms around Cade’s back. “Baby, none of us did. We couldn’t have known. Plus, he got drug tested for the team, how did they not catch it?”
Cade shakes his head as if it’s a mystery to him, too.
She continues to offer him soothing words to placate him, while I interrogate myself in my head.
Why didn’t you see it? Why didn’t you say something? You had a gut feeling, but were too scared to speak up. You were afraid to lose him and now you’ve gone and done it any way.
I’m sobbing loudly and don’t even realize it until Ainsley is holding me and rocking me in her arms.
“It’s not your fault, Mica,” she coos, gently running a hand down my head and stroking my hair. “It’s none of our faults. So, let’s move past the blame game and figure out how best to help him when he returns better than new.”
She’s right. I know she is. But it still doesn’t help matters that I overlooked so many things because I was blinded by love.
My mother was right. I wasn’t meant to be with Lance.
