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“That’s not why I’m here.” I wiped my hands on my jeans.
“I’m the one who owes you an apology. You didn’t force me to drink. You didn’t even drag me to the parties. Why do you feel responsible?”
“I could have been a better friend.” The mantra I’d told myself since college felt weak.
He leaned back on the couch. “Yeah, maybe, but I wasn’t ready to hear it. I needed to hit rock bottom.”
He said it with such conviction, I started to believe him. “Falling off the balcony of a frat house was that for you?”
He nodded. “It got my parents’ attention, and the school’s. I was expelled. Went to rehab. Life got real, quickly.”
I needed to talk this out with someone who was there, who might understand something about guilt and shame. “I’m dating someone, and she was robbed yesterday, assaulted. I didn’t protect her. I failed you. I failed her. When I was in the military, I didn’t realize this kid was going to throw a bomb at us.”
I knew I was rambling, not making sense, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
He held his hand up. “Look, I don’t know what happened in the military, but I can tell you, you’re not responsible for my drinking in college. If anything, I influenced our friends to party.”
I shook my head. “I was the responsible one. I should have done more.”
“You keep saying that, but it doesn’t make it true,” he said with conviction.
Was he right?
“You like this girl?”
That wasn’t the right word for what I was feeling. “I love her.”
“Is this guilt keeping you from being with her?”
“I’m here, and not with her,” I said, suddenly disgusted with myself.
He gave me a pointed look. “I think you know where you need to be.”
I stood, patting my pocket for my keys.
“Are you good? You happy?” I asked when he opened the door for me.
“It was rough at first. Because I completed a thirty-day program, I thought I could hang at a bar. That I could have one sip. I was young and stupid. But yeah, I got my shit together now. I’m working. Just met a girl myself.”
I shook his hand. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”
“I am too, and I wouldn’t go back and change anything. The journey is part of me. Now I want to help others.”
“I know you will. Thanks for meeting with me.”
He slapped me on the shoulder as I walked out. “Good luck with your girl.”
“I’m going to need it,” I called over my shoulder as I jogged down his porch steps and toward my truck.
It was a three-hour drive back to Annapolis. The entire ride, all I could think about was being with Remi. Holding her tight and never letting her go.
He’d given me the clarity I couldn’t seem to find on my own. I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I took a few deep breaths, acknowledging my part in Austin’s downfall and the incident in the Marines, then let it go. I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. These thoughts would creep in again, but I’d have Remi’s help. I wasn’t alone.
I couldn’t protect Remi from everything, but I could be there for her. I could support her, love her. Be her haven. She could do the same for me.
I just hoped I wasn’t too late.
* * *
