Poison & Wine - Melissa Toppen Page 0,13
love you, Jace Elliot Matthews,” I announce for probably the hundredth time over the last few months.
“I love you, Oakley Ryder Pierson.” He beams back at me. “And I always will,” he promises, reclaiming my lips moments later.
Chapter Six
JACE
* * *
“Well, here we are.” Tommy holds open the front door to let me enter the apartment, my duffle draped over my shoulder.
It feels weird to be here. Weird to be back in the real world.
I look around the small apartment, surprised by how tidy it is. Tommy was never much of a housekeeper. In fact, when he was a teenager, he was a downright fucking slob. A trait he inherited from our father.
My shoulders tense at the thought of my father. I haven’t seen him for the better part of a year. Not since we got into a huge fight and I ended up breaking that piece of shit’s nose. Serves him right for all the times he beat on me when I was too young and weak to defend myself. An hour later all my shit was in the front yard. He told me to never come back and it was a command I was all too happy to obey.
Of course, that meant I was bouncing from couch to couch for months. Hell, sometimes I would wake up and not even know where the fuck I was. A situation I’m grateful to have escaped. And one I don’t ever plan on going back to.
“This is nice,” I tell my brother, dropping my bag on the gray wraparound couch that takes up a good portion of the small living room.
“Yeah,” he grunts. “It’s not too bad. Better than any place I ever thought I’d be able to afford, that’s for sure.”
“You’ve really done well for yourself.” I turn to face him. Tommy is a shorter, stockier, older version of me. We look so much alike that most people can’t tell who’s who in pictures from when we were younger.
“Thanks, man. It hasn’t been easy.” He drops his keys on the table in the dining room, which is open to the living room.
Tommy and I were really close growing up, but after he left the house we lost touch for a long time. We’d run into each other from time to time, but by that point we were both so fucked up I can’t even remember what, if anything, we even talked about. We reconnected a few weeks ago when he came to see me in rehab. I was more than a little surprised to find out he was clean and working full time as a mechanic, and that he has his own place. When he offered to let me stay with him, I was honestly a bit taken aback and not sure how great of an idea it was. But I also wasn’t really in the position to refuse either.
“Does Oakley know you’re out? Have you spoken to her at all?” he asks out of left field, bringing her to the forefront of my mind.
It’s hard to believe it’s been two weeks since she came to see me in rehab. In some ways it feels like days ago, in others it feels like years. I have thought of very little but her since her visit. I’ve replayed everything in my head over and over again. The way we used to be. Before the drugs. Before things got really bad. I’d give anything to go back to that time and do it all differently. Unfortunately, that’s not how life works. The only thing I can do now is look forward and fight like hell to be the man that she deserved for me to be all along.
“Not since she came to visit me.” I can’t ignore the weight that pools in my stomach. “I fucked that up beyond repair.”
I know what we had is over. And no matter how hard of a fucking pill that is to swallow, it’s something I’m going to have to learn to live with. Which is going to be a hell of a lot harder sober than it was when I was walking around in a haze.
“I’m sorry, man. I know how much you loved her.”
“Still do,” I admit. “But she’s better off without me.”
“Is she?” He cocks a brow. “I know the shit that went down between the two of you was bad, but if any two people belong together, it’s you and her. Fuck, I remember when you two were joined at the hip.