“Why are you telling me this?”
Alex looked down at the book in her lap, handing it to me a few seconds later. It was a black hardback with the words “Crave Me” written in silver lettering. I glanced back at Alex still confused.
“It’s your story.”
I jerked back. “What? You fucking with me?” I shook my head in disbelief.
“She told me that after she’d left you, her therapist recommended for her to put all the entries together from over the years and add to it. It was a way to realize her growth and how far she’s come. It started off like her therapist suggested, but it took a life of it’s own. She ended up writing your love story.”
My eyes widened. Shocked to the core from what she was telling me.
“She thought reading it, might help you heal like it helped her. She wanted me to tell you that you don’t have to read it, but she wanted you to have the very first manuscript. It’s been picked up by a publisher, Austin Briggs is an author.”
My hands started shaking, knowing that I was holding Briggs’ soul under my fingertips. Alex stood up and I followed suit.
“She also wanted me to tell you that she was proud of you,” she relayed, pulling me into a tight hug.
I kissed the top of her head, held up the book, and told her thank you, smiling at her as she walked away. I wanted to leave. I wanted to go lock myself in my new room and read Briggs’ book from start to finish. Anxiously waiting for when I would be alone to do just that, but my parents were walking towards me. They were taking me to dinner, and then dropping me off at my new “sober living” facility. I told them I wanted to continue living in a controlled environment. I wasn’t ready to be on my own yet. Not ready to step out into the world where temptation and triggers were all around me. I’d be staying there for another six to eight months, more or less.
“You did so great, honey. We are so proud of you,” Mom praised again, kissing my cheek. “You’ve come such a long way, but you still have a long road ahead of you. We will be by your side every step of the way.”
“I know, Mom. Thank you.”
And I did; I wasn’t cured by any means. She lovingly nodded, excusing herself to go use the restroom.
“Your mother is right, Austin. We will always be here for you,” Dad agreed, bringing my attention back to him. “I’ve made so many mistakes, son. More than I care to remember. I keep telling myself that if I would have let you go to art school, if I’d let you become the man you wanted to be, if I hadn’t—”
“You can’t do that, Pop. I’m the only one that’s to blame for my choices. No one else. You did what you thought was best for me, like I imagine any parent would. I may have not seen it that way back then, but I know that now.”
“Briggs made me realize at the hospital how much of a shitty father I was. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren’t good enough, Austin. You’re my greatest accomplishment,” he confessed with tears in his eyes.
I’d never seen my dad be anything but the solid man he always was. I wasn’t surprised in the least that Briggs spoke her mind. She always did. It was one of things I loved the most about her.
“I love you no matter what, son. If I could go back, I would change a lot of things, but you’re right, I can’t. I can only move forward and I want nothing more than to build a relationship with the man standing in front of me.”
“I would really love that, Dad.”
He pulled me into a hug, and I actually felt my father’s sincerity and love. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I felt like everything was going to be okay. That my life was going to get better. That I was going to get better.
Even though my future didn’t include Briggs.
<>Briggs<>
“Jesus Christ!” I placed my hand over my chest when I walked into my house. “Why can’t you just fucking knock on the door like a normal fucking person?!” I yelled at my uncle, shutting the door behind me. “You don’t own this house. I do. So fucking knock on the door,” I ordered, setting my groceries on the kitchen island.
He just sat on the barstool without a care in the world, not paying me any mind at all. Holding his head up high in his I’m-Alejandro-Martinez-and-I-don’t-give-a-fuck kind of way.
“To what do I owe the honor of your unexpected appearance, Uncle? You must know Esteban is out of town or you wouldn’t be here.”
“Oh, I missed him? What a goddamn shame. By all means, give that motherfucker my regards.”
I rolled my eyes. It had been a year since Esteban and I moved in together. He hated the Carolinas, and wanted to move back to New York. It was one of our biggest arguments. He was actually there right now, traveling on business.
“Can’t an uncle just want to visit his favorite niece?”
“Your only niece, and an uncle, yes. You, no,” I declared, peeking my head out of the fridge to look at him.