Knowing there was someone who knew people involved in recovery might be exactly what Ada needed. I’d been trying to do this all on my own and getting nowhere, but if there was someone who could help me . . .
“But the thing is, your sister’s gotta want it. No one else,” Nik said, almost like he could read my mind. “You can’t force it.”
I’d heard that a million times before. It was an adage that was passed around like holiday candy, but they never talked about the people that loved them through it, who held them when everyone else walked away.
Twisting my fingers around each other, the heaviness of tonight sinking into my bones. Loving Ada used to be effortless, but that had long exhausted itself. I’d become Atlas, responsible for carrying the weight of her suffering and the aftermath of her afflictions.
“Hey,” Nik murmured, his fingers running through my hair. “You want me to get you something?”
“Honestly, I just want a fucking shower and then be unconscious for a solid eight to ten hours,” I said, blinking sleepily at the feeling of his thumb brushing against my temple. “Will you stay? I don’t want to wake up alone.”
“Of course,” Nik said. “I’ll sneak in a power nap, then pop in after you’re done, if you’ve got a spare towel.”
Relief uncoiled the tension in my shoulders. Before hopping into the shower, I grabbed him a fresh towel and a pair of sweats and laid them on the chair by my bed, but I was out of the shower and under the sheets before he came in to retrieve them.
The sounds of his shower were a balm to my frayed nerves, and I drifted in and out of sleep.
“Hey, is it cool if I borrow a hoodie too?” Nik whispered through my sleepy haze.
“Yeah. Cool.” With my eyes still closed, I gestured toward my closet where I hung my hoodies. As I heard him walk away, I couldn’t help but crack my eyes open to watch him.
My pants hung low on his hips, and a few stray drops of water still dotted his shoulders. His lean muscles flexed as he reached up, and my eyes caught something on the inside of his elbow.
Old wounds dotted the otherwise smooth skin. Track marks. The history that Nik referenced was more personal than I thought. He’d opened himself to me with a confidence in way people who hadn’t lived a day through that life could. His bravery plucked at the strings of my heart, leaving a melody humming through my bones.
When he crawled into bed, I scooted closer and wrapped myself around him. “I’m glad you were here with me,” I whispered against the back of his neck as I placed my hand over his heart. “I’m glad it was you.”
Nik covered my hand with his own. “I’m glad too.”
NIK
The Collective was heavy with the smell of barbecue, the front lawn and wraparound porch were packed with people. There was an enthusiastic game of soccer happening in the backyard, but it looked more like a take on multiple sports all at once. Tristan stood off on the sidelines in his coaching pose, his back straight and arms crossed, his husband Kurt by his side.
Kurt saw me first, poking Tristan in the side with his elbow, then nodding at me. Tristan’s face lit up when he saw me. “Hey, I was wondering when you’d show up.”
“I’m barely late,” I said with a wave. Tristan was big on schedules, and even though today was a tentative time to meet up, I knew he’d be here right as the Sunday potluck started.
Tristan lifted his sunglasses on the top of his head and peered down at his fancy watch. A swift breeze brushed through, pulling tufts of his blond hair over his forehead. “Thirty minutes is pretty significant.”
I knew deep down he was just giving me shit, but I’d be damned if I was going to let him get away with it. “Chance coordinated the meetup time, which means it’s flexible at best. If we go by his standards, I’m on time.”
Kurt laughed, lifting a finger up like he was taking count of a score. Tristan rolled his eyes.
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be on my—”
Tristan’s retort got cut off as the cluster of kids rushed past us, Maddie chasing after them, yelling like a rebel. It was impressive how her three-year-old legs could keep up with kids who had a solid two years on her.
When the kids landed on one another in their determined attempt to catch the fleeing ball, Kurt exhaled a sigh that was filled with fondness. “I better go sort things out before our daughter gets crushed in that mess.”
We watched Kurt jog over to the kids, quickly interrupting the game to allow him to take part so he could keep the injury level to a minimum. It didn’t take long until Kurt ended up trapped with the kids surrounding him, and Tristan laughed.
“He’s going to be at that for a minute. So, how’re you doing?” Tristan asked, a linger of worry in his gaze. He was always being the big brother to everyone and upped it a few notches when it was someone he really cared about.
“I’m chill,” I said, happy that I meant it. Even though last night got heavy, waking up with Micah next to me was one of the best ways to wake up. “I did some calls this morning, and one of them ran longer than usual.”
Caleb had crushed his pills and snorted today, which always made him more emotional than usual during our conversations, where he usually ended up talking about wishes that no one but himself could grant. It could get hard to listen to because they hit so close to home.
I really didn’t know what I’d gotten myself into when I started. And I want to get clean. I really do. But I just end up back where I started.
I’d heard that countless times on these calls. From what I’d seen and heard last night, it sounded like there was a possibility that Micah’s sister was in the same place.
“It’s incredible how you can do that weekly,” Tristan said with awe. My neck heated which then spread to my cheeks. Tristan said this all the time, and I never got used to it.
“It’s scary when you have to call the paramedics because you never know if they’re going to make it,” I said, keeping my eyes on Kurt chasing Maddie, her loud giggles helping calm the ache in my chest that threatened to unlock memories I didn’t want to visit. “If I could, I’d save them all, but I can’t. But I can listen and make sure that they get to live a little longer.”
We didn’t talk about the calls when the people didn’t make it. At first those calls haunted me for days, but over time I learned how to work through them in therapy, my support groups, and talking to other operators in the area.
Suddenly, the kids started a new game involving chasing Kurt into a tackle and piling on him. After going down for the third time in a row, he wheezed for help, which had Tristan and me cracking up, lifting the heaviness in the air.
“I better go rescue him,” Tristan said with a long sigh, but the smile on his lips showed nothing but adoration. We fist bumped before he jogged toward Kurt and said over his shoulder, “You better get some food before it disappears.”
The line for food stretched almost all the way around the Collective’s house, with people eagerly waiting their turn. Sundays were always the busiest days here, especially when the days had warmed up after winter. It was nice to be out and say hello to families of the kids I coached at kickball or catch up with other people I knew from a support group.
After I found a seat under the shade at an empty table, Leon had walked over and pointed to an empty chair. “Care if I sit here? I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Yeah, it’s been a hot minute,” I said after mauling a mouthful of potato salad. “But I always figure you and your guys are always busy coming up with some new genius plan that is going to save the world.”
