Addison (The Mitchell/Healy Family #6)(2)

“I’ll pray for her tonight, honey.”

“Yeah, I will too.”

“Are you hungry? I can make you a snack,” she offered.

“No. I’m fine.” My mother knew I could help myself, but loved taking care of us kids. She was born to do it. She and my dad were like the couple you read about in epic romance novels. I’d never seen two people so in love. They did everything together, including raising us kids. The values they taught us were obvious to others. I was proud to be a Mitchell, and I hoped that someday I’d be able to have a family of my own and teach the same morals they’d taught us to live by. “I’m content being here with you two.”

Dad squeezed my shoulder. “That’s my girl.”

At first he’d struggled to understand where he’d gone wrong with me. I think he blamed my addiction on himself, like he’d somehow had a hand at why I’d made bad choices.

My addiction had nothing to do with my family, or their money. I’d made the choice to hang with the wrong crowd. I’d gotten involved with things I knew were wrong. They were my decisions alone.

My dad and I had a strained relationship for a while. It broke my heart, but not nearly as much as his. I once heard him crying to my mother in their bedroom. He kept repeating how he failed me. I’d replayed hearing him so many times I’d lost count. Upsetting him, breaking him down, it was the lowest of lows for me.

I knew I’d never do another drug again. It wasn’t just a promise to myself. It was a silent vow to him. The moment I shared that with my dad, things changed for us. He no longer carried the burden on his shoulders. Ever since that night our relationship had seem to be repaired. He kept an eye on me because he loved me, not because he expected me to disappoint him. There was a huge difference, one I’d never been good at separating.

As I sat there with my parents appreciating the quality time between us, I knew there was one thing missing in my life; one thing I’d probably have to wait a long time to have.

A boyfriend – someone to share my life with.





Chapter 2


Addison


There was a rule in Narcotics Anonymous about dating someone else in the program. It was put into effect as a preventative. Statistics have proven that when one partner relapsed, the other was more likely to follow. I was fully aware of this rule, and appreciated the aspects of it.

I never thought I’d meet someone in the program, because frankly, I took it seriously. I was there to help myself and others. There wasn’t time to get involved. As much as I longed to have a relationship, I didn’t have the time or energy.

I’ve been working to get my certification as an addiction counselor for about a year now. I love my job, even though the pay is minimal. I do it because it matters to me; because at the end of the day I know these people can recover. I do it because it gives me comfort to help others.

With that being said, I never expected him to walk into the room during the next scheduled meeting. It was summer, and the heat was treacherous. Despite the fact that most places were air-conditioned, the church our meetings were held in wasn’t. We had fans running, but it wasn’t cool enough to dress fully covered. I was wearing a sundress. It was flowy and kept me comfortable. This guy, the one I’m talking about, he came in wearing one of those male tanks-the ones that show off the biceps and arms. On either side he had tattoos, a large vein running down the middle. His dark hair was disheveled on top, but shaved close on the sides. He wore small hoops in each ear, and had a smaller one on his bottom lip. His eyes, not gray or green, definitely hazel, were on mine immediately. A sly grin formed on his face as he took his seat toward the front of the crowd. There was something familiar about him; something drawing me to want to know why he was there and who he was.

I managed to get through my greeting without giving him too much eye contact, but it was obvious he was giving off vibes like he was checking me out.

Once I was able to be seated, it made things easier. I sat facing the speaker in the front row, leaving the mystery man behind me. As each person got up to talk, I could feel his eyes on me. It was both exciting and frightening at the same time. Too many months had gone by for me to not feel nervous to some degree.

When our time was up, I was thrilled he hadn’t gotten up to share his story. The reddening of my face would have been embarrassing, especially in front of the people who looked up to me.

After the meeting people always stuck around and socialized. I don’t know why I assumed he’d leave and never come back. Most of our visitors returned at least once. I think more than anything I was curious to know why he was there. My curiosity wasn’t because I was wanted to ask him out. Addicts come in all ages, shapes and sizes, and ethnicities. Being human was our common denominator.

As the room began to clear out, I started cleaning up, carrying the large coffee thermoses back to the church kitchen. A voice close behind startled me, causing me to almost drop the metal machine.

“My name is Cole.”

I turned to get a closer look, obviously still in shock he’d followed me to a more private location. Being that my sister had been a victim of an attack, I often tried to keep myself out of situations that could be dangerous. “You’re not supposed to be back here. Perhaps we could chat out in the common area once I’m done.” At that point I would have said anything to feel safe. He may have been handsome, but I wasn’t about to endanger myself because of it.