Breathe (Hollow Ridge #2) - C.L. Matthews Page 0,103

one can control. Love chooses its own path, and like the saps we are, we follow willingly.

Her mom slept for hours. When she came to, I had a concierge doctor on hand. She’d be going through rehab in my goddamn house, I’ll make sure of it. Joey hasn’t left our room, and I don’t blame her. Imagine the turmoil she must be experiencing knowing her mom is fine and only left because shooting up was more important than being a mother.

How fucked in the head is she?

To leave someone as beautiful, loving, and strong as my wife.

She missed out on seeing the most spectacular woman grow and thrive. Joey did it without her, Clay, and even without me. She blossomed with freedom and ease, she crushed all expectations, and is fighting for a top chef title.

My wife.

The amazing woman.

The one who hates me.

The one I’m starting to realize I don’t hate.

The one who ruined me for good reason.

I don’t deserve her, but I’ll be damned if I don’t try.

It may have taken me seeing her a mess last night, breaking in front of me, but thinking of our unborn baby, the pain, the suffering, and I’m willing to break the mold and be better. Would she say yes? Does her hatred run too deep?

Try.

A simple word.

One syllable.

Something everyone does on a daily basis.

Try to be successful.

Try to push harder.

Try to smile more.

Try not to break.

Try not to allow hurt to win.

Try not to die.

There are many things that propel others to change. The problem with change is you have to choose to take the actions necessary to be better. You can’t do the same thing and expect it to work. You can hope for the best and not actually put forth the effort.

You have to want to make a difference. You have to actually fight and not give up.

It’s simple to give in to the easiness. Take a bottle, chug it, fuck some random woman, be the mistake because it’s something you’re used to being. That’s what I did. My dad beat me, and I allowed myself to be the mistake from that point on. Every problem I’ve had leads back to that excuse. My childhood sucked, so why can’t I suck too?

Seeing my wife break beneath my fingertips isn’t something I ever want to experience again. Not unless she’s breaking for me in a way that brings her pleasure. We’re bonded through our hatred; it’s something that tethers us together. That hatred we’ve both clung to kept us here and continues to thrust us together. No matter how volatile or desperate our actions may be, it’s us that always ends with one another.

“Mr. Hayes?” the doctor interrupts my chasm of mindlessness. I’m sitting on the lounger in the living room, holding a bottle of Jameson, wondering if he’d make today easier or just push me further down a hole of no return.

“Yes?” I ask, looking up. He watches me as I stare at the bottle.

“Addiction isn’t something you can just throw away.”

“Didn’t ask you, now did I?”

He nods, pursing his lips. “No, but I’m a doctor who made an oath. Whether or not you want to hear it, I’ll tell you.” A sardonic laugh leaves me. This motherfucker.

“That anger rising inside you from me just offering you some advise only further proves my point.”

“And pray tell, Doc, what might that be.”

“You need help, Mr. Hayes. Not the kind you think that bottle brings, but the kind that takes the bottle out of the equation.”

My nostrils flare as I barely contain the unnatural rage inside me. It feels like a tea kettle whistling, barely a breath away from explosion. It’s not healthy, but I can’t seem to wish it away.

“Is that what you came out here to say?” I avoid his caring tactics. I’ll win this by myself.

I will.

“No, but it’s not something I can avoid.” I stare up at him and the pensive expression he’s toting. He pulls out his wallet and a card. “This is Natalie, my sponsor.” His sponsor. It dawns on me that whether he was a doctor or not, he’d spot me from a mile away. Broken people find broken people. They heal and help, or they tarnish and torture. Toxicity can go one of two ways. It can burn and fester, bringing you to your knees. Or, it can be a blessing in disguise, making your low go even lower than you imagined possible and, in that sense, brings you light, enough to get

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