Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
They say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.
They say the best way to stay sober is to love yourself.
I’m great at making bad decisions.
Addict? Check. Poor impulse control? Check. Obsessed with the guy I’m sponsoring? Check Check Check.
There is no one worse for me to want in my bed than Jake Tully. He’s hot and grumpy and literally a terrible idea. Terrible. Worse, no one has ever made me feel the way he does — valued. But here I am - thinking about him again.
Falling for my sponsor is not my worst idea yet, but it’s damn close.
Felix Fields is everything good. He’s thoughtful and kind. I can’t help but think about every bad thing we could do between these sheets.
But we can’t be together. I’m not willing to risk my recovery for anyone – even if he might be perfect for me.
Finding a love like this is nothing short of a tragedy.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
SO MAYBE I’M NOT OKAY
JAKE
I’m sure you saw this coming. You know how miserable I’ve been. If you were stationed closer, things would be different. I can’t keep doing this. We never see each other. Dale is here. He’s here and you aren’t. It just happened. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Jake. I love you. I only wish you the best.
Katie
THE TORN-OUT NOTEBOOK paper crumples inside my fist. I feel myself shaking.
Jaw tight, I turn toward the wall, cock my free hand back and strike my knuckles against it, pounding until I see blood smear.
That bitch. That stupid fucking bitch.
“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!” I roar.
I toss her bullshit onto the floor and tear through my room. I flip over the small table I keep shit on—shit of hers she gave me. Framed pictures and souvenirs from road trips and stupid fucking shit that means nothing. Two years of lies. Two years that were supposed to lead to more, but it just happened. Dale is there. I’m not. She’s fucking him. She’s giving him framed pictures and days that’ll turn into two years.
Fuck her. Fuck. Her.
I send everything crashing to the floor. I crush it beneath my boot.
The desk I share with my roommate—that piece of shit who said Katie didn’t seem the type to handle deployments and distance well—is next.
Fuck him for knowing.
Cheap plywood splits apart when it hits the floor, and the laptop I’d use to Skype on crashes against the wall after I hurl it.
She told me she loved me on that. She got off watching me get off. She’d smile at me on the screen and tell me she couldn’t wait to be done with school so she could move here.
She lied.
She’s done with me and wishing me the best and fucking her neighbor and “FUCK YOU!”
I pick up the end of my bed and toss it as far as I can. I rip the phone cord out of the wall and throw the receiver.
I only got that shit because of her. Why the fuck would I need it now?
The Walmart purchase crashes against the door.
I punch the wall again. I keep moving. I keep pacing and kicking shit and breaking anything I can until I force myself to stop before I crush bone.
Chest heaving, I look around the room at my destruction.
My hands tremble.
My skin burns and itches, and I feel like I’m on fire.
I grip my hair and squeeze my eyes shut as relief waters my mouth and rushes in my blood.
The high I could chase to take all of this away is right there in my pocket. I just need to reach for it.
It’s simple. It’s easy.
“Do it,” the best feeling in the world whispers in my ear.
I just need to go numb for a day or an hour or a minute. I need to stop feeling this.
I need to forget her.
I need to forget what she’s done.
I need I need I need I need.
My phone is in my hand and a number I shouldn’t know is on my screen, and I can barely see it through the tears in my eyes.
I want this.
I hate this.
My hand in my hair pulls. I can already feel better. My fingers shake.
I’m going to do it.
I’m scared.
I’m going to do it.
I’ll feel nothing in an hour.
I’ll hate myself tomorrow, but I’ll feel good first.
The high is better than the comedown. It’s worth it. It always is.
Dale—I can see that fucker in my head. He’s touching her. Kissing her. Fucking the girl I thought about buying a ring for. He’s shaking my hand and telling me he’ll keep an eye on what’s mine.
He’s smiling. They’re smiling. He’s taking everything I have.
“Just one more time,” my favorite memory beckons me.
She loves me. Cocaine-fueled and blackout drunk. She always will. There’s no one else for her but me.
Katie doesn’t feel that way. She won’t love me ever again. She never did.
Never.
My back hits the wall, and I slide to the floor. I almost hurl my phone across the room. Thank fuck I don’t.
“What’s up, man?” The rough voice in my ear sounds happy to hear from me. He’s smiling.
I want to kill myself.
“I need your help,” I croak. My throat feels like it’s ripping apart.
“I’m leaving now.” His tone changes to something that scares me. Something I’ve heard more times than I can count. “Give me two minutes, and I’m out the door, Jake. Hold on. I’m coming.”
My brother is coming.
Tears fall to my cheeks.
I hang my head and begin to sob.
It takes six hours for my brother to get to me.
I’m sweating and shaking and scared out of my fucking mind, and it takes six hours until he’s calling me because I won’t let him in. I won’t answer the door. I forget why he’s here.
CJ?
Holy shit. Hi.