Series: Fever Falls Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“This might seem like an odd question, but I’ve seen you drink. Is that not bad for someone recovering from an addiction?”
“That comes from certain older schools of thought in addiction recovery, yes. However, in my lengthy work on my own recovery, I’ve learned there are many conflicting theories about addiction. The evidence that because a person has been hooked on one thing, they’ll get hooked on another or that there’s such a thing as an addictive personality is controversial, to say the least. Some people are in programs based on this line of thinking, and it works great for them. I’m one hundred percent in favor of whatever breaks a person free of their demons. But the program I’m in is more about tending to the underlying issues and monitoring whatever I do get involved in. I’ve found that as long as I stay the hell away from coke, I seem to be fine. But I really don’t drink very often. And keep in mind that when you see me with a drink in my hand after I’ve gone to the bar to get everyone else beers, it might very well be Sprite.”
He appeared viscerally relieved to hear that. “I’m glad you’re better.”
“I still have enough therapy and meetings to ensure I don’t backslide. And of course, I’m never really over it. I still talk about it. And you still talk about your pain. We all do. Because you can change the story you’re writing, but you can’t go back and erase all the mistakes.”
“I’m so sorry, Owen.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, I know how I usually feel when I say I’m fine.”
The way he said it, it was evident he understood what I’d meant by it far too well.
“Care to share?” I asked, more interested in turning the conversation away from me than delving further into my own bullshit.
He scanned the water as though trying to find a way for us to creep out of the boat for a chance of evading this conversation. “So…adopted, yeah, and I wasn’t old enough to remember my parents. I love Crawford and Nance. They were the best to me, and they made me feel more loved than possible, but you can’t help but wonder about your biological parents, ya know?”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“When I turned fourteen, my biological father tracked me down. Google ‘birth parents tracking down their kids,’ and you’ll see some brutal shit. My case wasn’t the worst, though. Because I had no memory of them—I was adopted when I was barely one—I had this idea of my parents always having this great reason for needing to leave me in the care of the shelter. And that wherever they were, they really wished they could have loved me. So my biological father came, and he was so nice and friendly and kind, and Nance invited him to stay for dinner. I went to change clothes because he wanted to shoot some hoops with me out front, and when I headed back downstairs, he was talking to Nance…asking if she could give him and my biological mother some money. Evidently she didn’t want to come see me, didn’t want to deal with me for…whatever reason, and Nance told him off and said she wasn’t going to give him a dime. Stood up for me in the best way a mother could, but at some point, I couldn’t pretend it was taking me that long to change, so I acted like I hadn’t heard anything. I headed in to see him, and he put on this smile and acted all friendly and charming. And then we played a round before he left, everyone behaving like the conversation about money hadn’t happened. Never saw him again. And Nance doesn’t know I heard the whole thing.”
“Oh my God, Keegan,” I said as he avoided my gaze once again.
“I’d made up a lot of stories to make myself feel like maybe they really did care, but in that moment I realized that my biological parents cared more about getting money for me than actually getting to ever have anything to do with me again.”
“Those people aren’t your parents.”
“I know,” he said. “Didn’t you hear what I said? I’m fine. But sometimes it’s really hard to be fine, ya know?” A tear escaped his eye and slid down his cheek.
I sure knew the truth of it.
The pain. The hurt. And having to bottle it all inside to keep anyone from seeing.
“I’m sure Nance would have wanted to talk to you about that,” I said.
“I didn’t think I could talk to her about it without totally losing it.”
“Sometimes it’s okay to lose it.”
“That another piece of advice you’re gonna take yourself?”
Of everything Keegan had shared with me, it was in that moment that I saw not just the guy I was so fascinated by, so intrigued with, but the man inside. The man who had a heart of gold and the strength to push through hard times. The man who had his own disguise he wore when he needed to.