Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4)(122)

He arched an eyebrow. “So this is a pleasant visit, I see. Perhaps we can blame your foul mood on your bitch-causing time.”

I rolled my eyes at his * remarks.

“You know where your bedroom is. I don’t think I need to remind you, seeing as you’re sharing such fond f*cking memories from your childhood.”

“My bedroom? You kept my room?” I asked, shocked as shit. “Who are you?”

“Your uncle. The only family you have, peladita.”

“It makes me feel confused. Austin is the only man I’ve ever known outside of my uncle. He was my family. My heart. My reason. I miss him every single day, but I have so much hatred for him. I also still love him, which outweighs that hatred some days. I don’t blame him for my abortion. I did what I thought was the right thing to do at that time.”

“Do you think he would have stayed in recovery if you had kept the baby?”

I shook my head no. “If you would have asked me that back then I probably would have said yes, but now after everything that’s happened. I don’t think he would have stayed in recovery. Something would have happened to make him relapse. There was always something happening.”

“Do you think the abortion played as a downfall in his addiction?”

“I know it did.” I bowed my head, playing with the seam of my shirt. “I think that’s another reason I stayed so long. I felt responsible for some of his demons. The choices I made that not only affected me but him too.”

“That’s normal, Briggs. To feel the way you do. Have you spoken to him?”

“You know I haven’t.”

“Do you know how he’s doing?”

“See, that’s the worst part. I lost his friends and family too. I haven’t been back to Oak Island since I left. I don’t know if he’s in recovery. I don’t know anything anymore.”

“Is he still calling you?”

“Every day.”

“Are you still listening to the messages? Reading the texts?”

“Not as much as I used to. I’m trying to be strong, but I can’t help the guilt I feel. I know you keep telling me that it wasn’t my fault that he became an addict. In my mind that makes sense, but in my heart, Doctor,” I placed my hand on my chest, “it doesn’t feel that way.”

“Austin is an addict, Briggs. He would have become one with or without you. Do you understand that?”

I nodded.

“Family members, especially partners, they always feel responsible no matter what. His problems became your problems, his demons became your demons, and his addiction became your burden. It would have killed you, had you stayed. You made the right choice by leaving him, Briggs. He wasn’t going to get any better with you there. Addicts need consequences. If they don’t have any then why would they change? I’m not saying that you leaving was his rock bottom, but eventually, he will find one. They always do. It’s just whether he will be alive when it happens.”

I grimaced. I couldn’t help it.

“I know that’s hard for you to hear. But in situations like these, it becomes about their lives. Only them. Killing yours in the process. Addicts die every day, Briggs. It’s the nature of the beast. If he doesn’t want to stay clean, then he won’t. Bottom line.”

“It was already killing me. I don’t understand why I stayed for as long as I did. I should have left years ago, but I couldn’t.”

“You loved him. You still love him. He’s a very sick man. Addiction is a disease, Briggs. It’s contagious in the sense that it overpowers everyone involved, including the non-addicts. You’re sick too. Which is why you’re here. Austin won’t get better until he wants to. You can’t want it for him. You stayed because you remembered the man he was. Not the man he became. They’re two different people. You can’t continue to blame yourself for that.”

I nodded again.

“Let me ask you this. If it weren’t for the guilt you have from him becoming an addict, bringing him into that life and then the abortion being another catalyst. Would you have stayed as long?”

I looked around the room, trying to seek the answer out like it was written somewhere on the walls.

“I wanted to save him,” I finally admitted out loud for the first time. “I wanted to save one person in my life.”

“Your parents,” she simply stated already understanding.

“I know it was just a coincidence that I had a temper tantrum when the car hit us. I do know that now. I spent most of my childhood and adolescence thinking I killed my parents’, Doctor. You know my uncle. Everything I’ve seen and lived through. I wanted to save someone. I didn’t want another person that I love to die. Not at my hands.”

Her eyebrows raised, surprised by my revelation.

“If you hated that life so much, Briggs, why did you stay? Why not leave when you turned eighteen?”

I nervously chuckled. “I spent years upon years asking myself that same question. Especially, when I first started working for him,” I paused to gather my thoughts. “My uncle is the only family I have. I was scared to be alone, plain and simple. I didn’t have any friends or role models in my life. Even though I hated what I was doing, it was the only life I’d ever known.”