know that I’ve already talked to Paul about how to approach this.”
My stomach ties into a knot. “Why would you be concerned over losing me? What would Paul have to do with something in your past?” I want to tell him that my feelings go much deeper than I’ve confessed, and it would take a lot to scare me off, but how soon is too soon to open up your heart?
Is that really my concern, or is the nagging feeling that something is wrong keeping my heart on guard?
Wait a minute. He talked to Paul? Paul would be exactly the person to talk to if they were kindred spirits.
My breath hitches. No. That is not what he is going to tell me. Not Jensen.
Jensen closes his eyes like he is trying to halt time. Etta placing her paw on my knee in what looks like an offer of consolation, causes my gut to cramp further. Jensen rattles his head, and then puts his hand to his temple. His building frustration has me on guard for what is one of the worst things anyone could tell me. “I’m not the fitness nut that you think I am; I’m a recovering junkie. Forcing an attitude change toward my health is how I banished my demons.”
My mind fights reality. “No. No, you can’t be. Not another one. I won’t allow you to have been like that.” My fingers press into my closed eyes and squeeze while I hope to smother the wave of disappointment that pulls me under. Please, Lord, not another scarred life. How could he ever touch something that destroyed my family? Something that turned my dad into a raging monster that made us fear him.
Jensen reaches out to me. “Honey, please—”
I stick my hand out to halt him. I need a moment to process this. Was Jensen like my dad? Did he abuse people? Did he sleep around with every low-life woman in his inner circle? My dad liked to have company when he shot up. Was Jensen like that, or was he a lone wolf? I’ve so many questions that I have no idea where to begin.
Why can’t I have people in my life that have never suffered? It would give me so much hope. It is no wonder why just the idea of something bad has such a heavy effect on me.
All I can do is pray for understanding while waiting for Lizetta to compose her thoughts. Paul warned me to be as upfront as possible and to give her all the time she needs to digest each piece of my news. He’s right; she deserves that courtesy. Still, watching her chest sag makes me fear she is withdrawing her heart. The pain in her eyes rips at my soul as the stupidity of my past harms another wonderful person.
Finally she takes my hands. “Why?” she asks. “What happened? Why did someone with your talent and intelligence risk throwing his life away?” The betrayal that radiates from her and Etta’s eyes makes me see how I have punished innocents for no reason.
“Before we get into that, I want you to know that I take full responsibility and make no excuses for my behavior. Also, three months before I met you, I stopped poisoning my body, which meant giving up alcohol and all drugs of any kind. I also left every so-called friend that helped me find excuses not to be the person I wanted to be. You haven’t met my friends because I don’t have any. They walked away once I let them down too many times. I don't blame them in the least.”
I give her a moment to absorb that and wait for her nod of acknowledgement before moving on. The poor woman looks ill. I reach out to her and she softly tells me to keep going.
“My older brother, Eddie, started abusing when our dad died. He tried to keep it from me, but when you share a room with someone, it’s kind of hard to hide that you are drinking away your pain. Mom had to work two, and sometimes three jobs, to make ends meet. Her dad tried to help, but eventually Granddad had a massive stroke. Everyone’s life got a lot harder. I couldn’t help but think that maybe Eddie had the right idea to numb himself to how our family was falling apart. It seemed the easy solution. Now I see that it was just
My stomach ties into a knot. “Why would you be concerned over losing me? What would Paul have to do with something in your past?” I want to tell him that my feelings go much deeper than I’ve confessed, and it would take a lot to scare me off, but how soon is too soon to open up your heart?
Is that really my concern, or is the nagging feeling that something is wrong keeping my heart on guard?
Wait a minute. He talked to Paul? Paul would be exactly the person to talk to if they were kindred spirits.
My breath hitches. No. That is not what he is going to tell me. Not Jensen.
Jensen closes his eyes like he is trying to halt time. Etta placing her paw on my knee in what looks like an offer of consolation, causes my gut to cramp further. Jensen rattles his head, and then puts his hand to his temple. His building frustration has me on guard for what is one of the worst things anyone could tell me. “I’m not the fitness nut that you think I am; I’m a recovering junkie. Forcing an attitude change toward my health is how I banished my demons.”
My mind fights reality. “No. No, you can’t be. Not another one. I won’t allow you to have been like that.” My fingers press into my closed eyes and squeeze while I hope to smother the wave of disappointment that pulls me under. Please, Lord, not another scarred life. How could he ever touch something that destroyed my family? Something that turned my dad into a raging monster that made us fear him.
Jensen reaches out to me. “Honey, please—”
I stick my hand out to halt him. I need a moment to process this. Was Jensen like my dad? Did he abuse people? Did he sleep around with every low-life woman in his inner circle? My dad liked to have company when he shot up. Was Jensen like that, or was he a lone wolf? I’ve so many questions that I have no idea where to begin.
Why can’t I have people in my life that have never suffered? It would give me so much hope. It is no wonder why just the idea of something bad has such a heavy effect on me.
All I can do is pray for understanding while waiting for Lizetta to compose her thoughts. Paul warned me to be as upfront as possible and to give her all the time she needs to digest each piece of my news. He’s right; she deserves that courtesy. Still, watching her chest sag makes me fear she is withdrawing her heart. The pain in her eyes rips at my soul as the stupidity of my past harms another wonderful person.
Finally she takes my hands. “Why?” she asks. “What happened? Why did someone with your talent and intelligence risk throwing his life away?” The betrayal that radiates from her and Etta’s eyes makes me see how I have punished innocents for no reason.
“Before we get into that, I want you to know that I take full responsibility and make no excuses for my behavior. Also, three months before I met you, I stopped poisoning my body, which meant giving up alcohol and all drugs of any kind. I also left every so-called friend that helped me find excuses not to be the person I wanted to be. You haven’t met my friends because I don’t have any. They walked away once I let them down too many times. I don't blame them in the least.”
I give her a moment to absorb that and wait for her nod of acknowledgement before moving on. The poor woman looks ill. I reach out to her and she softly tells me to keep going.
“My older brother, Eddie, started abusing when our dad died. He tried to keep it from me, but when you share a room with someone, it’s kind of hard to hide that you are drinking away your pain. Mom had to work two, and sometimes three jobs, to make ends meet. Her dad tried to help, but eventually Granddad had a massive stroke. Everyone’s life got a lot harder. I couldn’t help but think that maybe Eddie had the right idea to numb himself to how our family was falling apart. It seemed the easy solution. Now I see that it was just
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