Confess: A Novel (24 page)

After the accident, he was in a lot of pain, physically and emotionally. It doesn’t help that for the entire month he was in a coma, they had him doped up on meds.

When he finally woke up and began to recover, the pills were the only things to relieve his pain. When he began needing more than he was prescribed, the doctors refused his requests.

For weeks, I had to watch him suffer. He wasn’t working, he wouldn’t get out of bed, he was in a constant state of agony and depression. At the time, I didn’t think my father was capable of allowing something as small as a pill to completely devour him, but I was naive. The only thing I saw when I looked at him was a man who was in pain and needed my help. I had been behind the wheel of the car that took the life of his son and his wife, and I would have done anything to make it better. To rectify what happened. I carried a lot of guilt for a long time over that accident, even though I know my father didn’t blame me. That’s one thing he did right: repeatedly tell me that it wasn’t my fault.

Still though, it’s hard not to feel guilt when you’re a sixteen-year-old kid. I just wanted to make it better for him. It began with my being prescribed my own pain medication. It was fairly easy to fake back pain after a wreck of our magnitude, so that’s exactly what I did. After several months of his continuously being in more and more pain, it got to the point where even my additional pills weren’t enough for him.

That’s also when my doctor pulled me off of the pills and refused to give me another prescription. I think he knew what was going on and didn’t want to contribute to my father’s addiction.

I had a friend or two at school who knew how to get the pills my father needed, so it started out with my bringing him the medicine from people I knew. That went on for two years until those friends either grew out of raiding their parents’ stashes or moved off to college. Since then, I’ve been getting them from my only other source, which is Harrison.

Harrison isn’t a dealer, but being around alcoholics for the majority of every day makes it fairly easy for him to know who to contact when someone needs something. He also knows the pills aren’t for me, which is the only reason he’s been willing to give them to me.

Now that he knows I went to jail over the very pills he’s been supplying my father, he refuses to get any more for him. Harrison is done, which I was hoping would be the end of it for my father, since it meant the end of his supply.

But here he is with more pills. I’m not sure how he got these, but it makes me nervous that someone else out there other than myself and Harrison now knows about his addiction. He’s being reckless now.

As much as I’ve tried to talk my father into rehab, he’s afraid of what would happen to his career if he went and it were to become public knowledge. Right now, his addiction is just bad enough that it’s destroying his personal life. However, it’s almost to the point where it will destroy his professional life. It’s just a matter of time, because alcohol is beginning to play a large role and the incidents I’ve been rescuing him from this past year are becoming more and more frequent. And I know that addictions don’t just get better. They’re either actively fought or actively fed. And right now, he’s not doing a goddamn thing to fight his.

I open the lid and pour his pills into my palm and begin to count them.

“Owen?” my father mutters. He raises himself to a seated position. He’s carefully eyeing the pills in my hand, more focused on what I’m going to do to them than he is on the fact that I’ve been released early.

I set the pills beside me on the coffee table. I clasp my hands together between my knees and smile at my father.

“I met a girl recently.”

My father’s expression says it all. He’s completely confused.

“Her name is Auburn.” I stand up and walk to the mantel on the fireplace. I look at the last family photo we ever took. It was more than a year before the accident, and I hate that this is the last memory I have of what they look like. I want a more recent memory of them in my mind, but memories fade a lot faster than photographs.

“That’s good, Owen,” my father mutters. “But it’s after midnight. Couldn’t you have told me tomorrow?”

I return to where he’s seated, but I don’t sit this time. Instead, I stare down at him. Down at this man who was once my father.

“Do you believe in fate, Dad?”

He blinks.

“Up until I saw her, I didn’t. But she changed that the second she told me her name.” I chew on the inside of my cheek for a second before continuing. I want to give him time to absorb everything I’m saying. “She has the same middle name as me.”

He raises an eyebrow over his bloodshot eye. “Having the same middle name doesn’t necessarily make it fate, Owen. But I’m happy you’re happy.”

My father rubs his head, still confused as to why I’m here. I’m sure it’s not every night a son wakes his father up after midnight from a drug-induced sleep to rave about the girl he met.

“You want to know what the best part about her is?”

My father shrugs. I know he wants to tell me to fuck off, but even he knows it’s in bad taste to tell someone to fuck off after they just spent a month in jail for you.

“She has a son.”

This wakes him up a little more. He looks up at me. “Is it yours?”

I don’t answer that. If he were listening, he would have heard me say I only recently met her.
Officially
met her, anyway.

I take a seat in front of him. I stare him directly in the eye. “No. He’s not mine. But if he were, I guarantee you I’d never put him in the positions you’ve put me in the last few years.”

My father’s eyes fall to the floor. “Owen . . .,” he says. “I never asked you to—”

“You never asked me
not
to!” I yell. I’m standing again, staring down at him. I’ve never felt rage toward him like this. I don’t like it.

I grab the bottle of pills and walk to the kitchen. I pour them down the sink and turn the water on. When all the pills are gone, I head toward his office. I hear him coming after me when he realizes what I’m doing. “Owen!” he yells.

I know he also receives a legal prescription, aside from what I’m able to get him, so I walk behind the desk and pull open the drawer. I find another half-empty bottle of pills. He knows not to try to stop me physically, so he steps aside, all the while begging me not to do this.

“Owen, you know I need those. You know what happens when I don’t take them.”

I don’t listen to it this time. I begin pouring them down the drain, fighting him off while I do it.

“I need those!” He’s yelling, over and over, trying to grab them as they disappear down the drain. He actually catches one between his fingers and shoves it in his mouth. It makes my stomach hurt. He seems so much less human when he’s this desperate and weak.

When the last pill is gone, I turn and face him. He’s so ashamed; he won’t even look at me. He drops his elbows to the counter and cradles his head in his hands. I take a step closer to him and lean against the counter as I speak to him calmly.

“I watched her with her son. I’ve seen what she sacrifices for him,” I say. “I’ve seen what lengths a parent should go to in order to ensure their child has the best possible life they can give them. And when I see her with him, I think of you and me, and how we’re so fucked up, Dad. We’ve been fucked up since that night. And every moment since then, the only thing I’ve wanted is to see you try to get better. But you haven’t. It’s just gotten worse, and I can’t sit here and be a part of it. You’re killing yourself, and I won’t let the guilt of seeing you suffer excuse the things I do for you anymore.”

I turn around and head for the front door, but not before walking by the mantel and taking the picture frame. I pass by him and walk out the front door.

“Owen, wait!”

I pause before descending the stairs and face him. He stands in the doorway, waiting for me to yell again. I don’t. The second I see his lifeless eyes, the guilt seeps back into my soul.

“Wait,” he says again.

I’m not even sure he knows what he’s asking me. He just knows that he’s never seen this side of me before. The resolved side.

“I
can’t
wait, Dad. I’ve been waiting for years. I don’t have anything else left in me to give.”

I turn around, and I walk away from him.

A
J, do you want chocolate chip or blueberry?”

We’re grocery shopping. AJ, Trey, and I. The last time I was at this Target was with Owen, and that’s been a while. Almost three months to be exact. Not that I’m counting. I’m totally counting. I do everything I can to make it stop. I’ve been trying to focus on this thing developing between Trey and me, but I’m constantly comparing him to Owen.

I barely knew the guy, but somehow he reached a part of me that no one has reached since I was with Adam. And despite the things Owen has done, I know he’s a good person. As much as I try to get over the way my chest feels when I think about him, the feelings are still there and I’m at a loss as to how to make them go away.

“Mommy,” AJ says, pulling on the hem of my shirt. “Can I?”

I snap out of my trance. “Can you what?”

“Get a toy.”

I begin to shake my head, but Trey answers before I have the chance to. “Yeah, let’s go look at the toys.” He grabs AJ’s hand and begins walking backward. “Meet us in toys when you’re finished,” he says, turning away.

I watch them. They’re both laughing, and AJ’s little hand is engulfed by Trey’s and it makes me hate myself for not trying harder. Trey loves AJ and AJ obviously loves Trey and here I am being completely selfish, simply because I don’t feel the same connection to Trey as I did with Owen. I spent two days with Owen. That’s it. I probably would have found something I didn’t like about him had I spent more time with him, so I could very well be caught up in the
idea
of Owen rather than actual feelings toward him.

Looking at it this way makes me feel somewhat better. I may not have had an instant connection to Trey but it’s definitely growing. Especially with the way he treats AJ. Anyone who can make AJ happy makes me happy.

For the first time in a long time, I actually catch myself smiling over the thought of Trey rather than the thought of Owen. I grab most of the items on the list before heading toward the toy section. I take a shortcut through sporting goods and come to an immediate stop as soon as I round a corner.

If fate plays jokes, this is the absolute worst one.

Owen is staring back at me with as much disbelief registered on his face as I’m sure is on mine. In an instant, everything I’ve been trying to feel for Trey is reduced tenfold, and it’s all directed toward Owen. I grip the cart with my hands and debate whether or not to turn in the opposite direction without speaking to him. He would understand, I’m sure.

He must be having the same internal struggle, because we both stopped walking as soon as we laid eyes on one another. Neither of us is speaking. Neither of us is retreating.

We’re both just staring.

My entire body feels his stare, and I physically ache in every part of me. The main reason I’ve doubted what’s happening between Trey and myself is standing right in front of me, reminding me of what true feelings for someone should be like.

Owen smiles, and I suddenly wish we were in the cleaning aisle, because someone is going to have to mop me up off this floor.

He glances to his left and then his right before his gaze lands back on me. “Aisle thirteen,” he says with a grin. “Must be fate.”

I smile, but my smile is robbed by the sound of AJ’s voice. “Mommy, look!” he says as he tosses two toys into the cart. “Trey said I could have both.”

Trey.

Trey, Trey, Trey, who is probably behind me right now, based on Owen’s reaction. He stiffens and stands straight, gripping his cart with both hands. His eyes are on someone behind me.

An arm slips around my waist, gripping me possessively. Trey stands beside me and I can feel him eyeing Owen. He moves his hand to my lower back and then his lips meet my cheek. I close my eyes because I don’t want to see the look on Owen’s face. “Come on, babe,” Trey says, urging me to turn around. He’s never called me babe before. I know he’s only using the term in front of Owen to make our relationship seem more than what it is.

After another tug on my arm, I finally turn and walk with Trey.

We finish getting the few items that are left on my list. Trey doesn’t speak to me the entire time we’re shopping. He’s keeping conversation going with AJ, but I can tell he’s angry. My stomach is a ball of nerves because he’s never given me the silent treatment like this before and I don’t know what to expect.

The silent treatment continues through the checkout line, all the way to his car. He loads the groceries into the trunk while I buckle AJ into the backseat. When I have him strapped into his booster seat, I close the door and turn to find Trey leaning against the car, staring at me. He’s so still, he doesn’t even look like he’s breathing.

“Did you speak to him?”

I shake my head. “No. I had just turned the corner right before you and AJ walked up.”

Trey’s arms are folded across his chest and his jaw is tense. He looks over my shoulder for several seconds before bringing his eyes back to mine.

“Did you fuck him?”

I stand up straighter, shocked at his question. Especially because we’re standing right outside AJ’s door. I glance inside the car at AJ but his focus is on his toys and not at all on the two of us. When I look back at Trey, I think I’m angrier than he is.

“You can’t be mad at me for running into someone at a store, Trey. I don’t control who shops here.”

I try to move past him, but he grabs my arm and pushes me against the car with the weight of his chest against mine. He brings his hand up to the side of my head and lowers his mouth to my ear. My heart is beating erratically, because I have no idea what he’s about to do.

“Auburn,” he says, his voice a deep, threatening whisper. “He’s been inside your apartment. He’s been in your bedroom. He was in that stupid fucking tent with you. Now I need you to tell me if he’s ever been inside
you
.”