Page 71 of Sweet Little Lies
Chapter 27
Lance
Three months later
I keep having the same recurring dream.
The sunshine is bright, reflecting off of water. All I see is the shape of someone, a woman. Long dark hair flows down her back. She’s holding a child in her arms. Even though I can’t see her face, I know she’s smiling.
And I know it’s because her life is good. She doesn’t have me in it to ruin it for her.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist or psychic to know the dream is about Mica and her future. And I know I’ve done the right thing by keeping my distance.
A lot has happened since I went through my harrowing life and death experience and got clean. It hasn’t been easy. Not one single part of it has been easy. Sometimes I look back at those first three days of detox and it seems like a breeze compared to my itchy desire to get high.
My doctors and therapists, and other addicts in NA, all tell me that need may never go away and to take it one day at a time. Today, that need has mellowed and isn’t as sharp as it was back then. They’re right that it does dull over time.
Sometimes it feels like I’m floating up on the top of the ocean and that itchy need to get high is the sand beneath me. I know it’s there and it’s present and surrounds me, but it doesn’t have to consume me.
I don’t want to sink back to the bottom ever again. It takes a lot of effort to work at floating on the top, but it’s a much better existence. There’s more freedom and beauty that exists when I’m up on the surface and not swallowed by the habitual need to get high or drunk.
My only regret – well, there have beenmanyregrets – but the biggest is that I had to let Mica go. I tell myself all the time it was for her own good. But honestly, it was for myself, as well.
I knew in my heart that until I was sober and could deal with all the shit eating away inside me she was better off without me. I couldn’t be the boyfriend she needed in the state of chaos I was in.
And my counselor advised me that it’s best to deal with my demons first, work through the steps of the program and get myself right before I try to forge ahead in a relationship.
That doesn’t mean I don’t miss her like crazy every single moment or want to be with her more than anything.
But rehab taught me that I have to learn to love yourself before I can love someone else.
I haven’t seen Mica in over ninety days. Haven’t spoken to her or texted with her. Haven’t witnessed that beautiful and playful smile of hers that lights her up like a Goddess.
But I have read and reread all the letters she sent me while I was in rehab. That was the only form of communication I could have with the outside world during that twenty-eight day stint. I received letters from my coaches, the team, Cade and Carver, my grandma, even fans. But the only ones I really cherished and read over and over again were those from Mica.
Mostly they told me what she was up to. Nothing out of the ordinary from her typical schedule but she did mention updates about Ainsley and their wedding dress shopping and working out details for their upcoming wedding.
I want so badly to ask her to be my date to the wedding, which is three months from now. But I’m scared. Worried that I won’t be strong enough yet. Worried she won’t want me anymore.
Of course, I’ve hung out with the boys and asked how she is doing. I know for a fact that she’s single and hasn’t been dating, which I’m relieved to hear. And I also heard that she finally told her family that there was no way in hell she’d ever marry Alberto. Thank God for that.
Even if I can’t have her, I didn’t want that man to be with her.
I smile as I envisioned her putting her foot down and going on a rampage in Spanish, her words flying fast and furious. That little pipsqueak can really pack a punch and is a fiery hell-on-wheels girl when she wants to be.
God, I miss her.
My heart aches constantly for want of her. The need to hold her in my arms. To touch her. Feel her warm embrace. To be buried deep inside her where everything is right in the world.
My memories are littered with all the moments we were together. All the playful flirting we did as friends, when she was keeping her distance. All the times in bed together, her body laid out before me, open to me; so beautiful and filled with promise.
And I broke every promise I made to her.
It’s a far climb back to the top when you’ve hit rock bottom. I’ve had to work had at earning back the trust I’d lost from everyone close to me, starting with my team and coaches.
When I was in the hospital right after the incident, Head Coach Welby and Assistant Coach Parker gave me an ultimatum. I could remain on the team and finish out the year on the bench, with maybe some play if we made it to the championships, if I voluntarily checked into rehab and committed to weekly drug testing afterwards.
It was no easy decision, but I wasn’t going to let my college basketball career go down the drain over drugs. Just yesterday, Coach Parker and I were talking after a pretty grueling practice.
