I wasn’t supervised and even if I was, she didn’t care about what I did. I really wanted her to care, but she and her friends were all too busy sharing needles and snorting an array of powders. I didn’t understand what they were doing, but I knew whenever my mother used that needle, she was different. She would go from loving and caring to cold and distant. One minute she would protect me fiercely and the next she didn’t care if anything happened to me. I wanted her attention and I thought maybe if I did something silly like climb the tree, she would care about me again.
Alone and restless, I lofted my small body up that tree, but on the way down, I lost my balance and fell hard, shattering my elbow. I screamed. The pain was intense. I waited and yelled—as usual, no one was there to hear my call. I pulled myself up, holding my broken left arm against my side, and I slowly walked inside the apartment.
I searched for my mommy, but I couldn’t see past the cloud of smoke that engulfed the room. I couldn’t breathe. The pain was overwhelming and my lungs were burning. I cried out for her, but I still couldn’t see. There were sounds and smells and that smoke, but I couldn’t find my mom. I just kept crying for her. I fell to the ground and I just kept calling her name. “Mommy, mommy, mommy.” I yelled over and over again until my throat was so raw that I could no longer hear my own screams.
I just closed my eyes and hoped this would end. It did end. She finally found me and held me, and for a moment I felt loved and safe. For one second, I forgot the pain and just felt secure in my mother’s arms. That’s where I always wanted to be. I looked up in her eyes and I felt that glimmer of hope that I had my mother. I had her love, but I didn’t.
So quickly that moment ended. One of her friends tied a band on my arm and she held me still as he stuck a needle in my right arm. I screamed, but my mother put her hand over my mouth and told me it would be okay. The pain would go away. It did go away, and so did my chance at a normal life. That was my first taste and for all my life I would crave more.
Alex nearly died that night. His fragile body was unable to handle the power of that drug. He overdosed and his mother had enough lucidity to get him to the hospital. That was the last day he ever spent with Rebecca Armstrong. She was arrested for child endangerment and, during her imprisonment, they found out she was involved in several robberies with her drug-using friends. One of those robberies had resulted in the death of convenience store owner. Rebecca did not pull the trigger, but she was guilty of felony murder regardless and was sentenced to life without the possibility of parole. She was barely twenty years old but her life was already over and Alex’s was forever damaged.
Alex was given a second chance at life, or rather a third. He had escaped the heroin death clutch again, but how many chances would he have before it finally caught up with him?
He had survived so many years without drugs. Despite the pain he endured at his various foster homes, he had stayed clean and then one day it all fell apart thanks to a small green pill: oxycontin.
Always the adventurer, Alex was hanging out with some friends he had met in a group home several years prior. Leah had hated those guys, but he felt comforted by them as they grew up in similar dysfunctional circumstances. They could relate to him in way she could not. Although she tried to be supportive, she knew those guys were dangerous and would lure Alex into trouble. They knew how to feed on Alex’s reckless side and they would encourage him to take stupid risks. Alex would gladly oblige. They gave him acceptance, and he craved it.
They enticed him to do some tricks on their bikes as if they were supercross champions. Unfortunately Alex, riding without a helmet, landed hard on his back. He shattered his collarbone and damaged several discs in his back. Leah could never forget that day, seeing him in the hospital all bandaged and bruised. She thought he would die. So many times he had tempted death and escaped—but this time would be the last, she had feared. Her prayers were answered, though, and he survived yet again, but not without considerable pain and rehabilitation.
The doctors were unaware of his history with heroin and prescribed him oxycontin. One taste of that drug awoke Alex’s addictive tendencies. Just like that, the years of fighting the cravings had come to an abrupt end. Oxycontin was his welcome back into the world of narcotics and he embraced it, and until this moment hadn’t looked back.
When his oxy ran out, he found heroin again and the two had been inseparable for the last six years. He tried to hide it from her, and for a while it worked. Leah noticed the subtle changes in his personality, but she made excuses for his behavior, not wanting to accept the truth. It was the pain he would always battle thanks to the biking accident, or it was the stress of his childhood. It was anything but drugs. Anything but addiction. She couldn’t accept that the drugs had won after all those years of fighting.
But denial could not erase the track marks on his arms or the stash of needles she found in his bedroom. She sat on the floor holding those needles and crying as the truth sank in and her denial faded. Alex found her there. He at first tried to deny it, but then he acknowledged the awful truth. He tried to convince her he had it under control, but she knew then he was the one under heroin’s control, and there was nothing she could do to change it and there still wasn’t anything she could do.
She just had to hope he learned something from those two weeks in rehab. Maybe this could be the start of his healing.
Is that my hope talking or just my old friend denial? “Where do we go from here?” she asked.
“It’s time for me to get my life back. That starts with getting a job. I need to help pay some of the bills around here. I can’t stand you working two jobs while I sit here. I’m going to take some of this burden off of you, babe. You’ve been dealing with too much on your own for too long. I gotta step up and be the man you deserve.”
She could see the determination in his eyes and she knew he meant the words he said. She wanted to trust him, trust in him, but her mind was telling her to ignore her heart and embrace the facts. Two weeks was not enough time.
She dismissed those negative thoughts. “Just take care of yourself Alex, please. Go to meetings or whatever you need to do to stay clean. Don’t overwhelm yourself trying to do too much too soon.”
She read enough books to know that the success rate of rehab was not high the first time around, especially with heroin addiction. Alex was more likely to fall off the wagon than to succeed, but if she supported him and believed in him maybe that could give him the push he needed to stay sober.
“I’m not going to fail, Leah. I’m tired of failing. All that failure has led to empty dreams and broken promises. The good thing is that I am young enough to fix it. It’s not too late for me. I can’t let it be too late for me. I can’t let her win. I can’t let her know that she destroyed me.”
Rebecca. For all his life, Alex had fought to prove that he was not his mother’s son and in trying to escape her, he ended up following her lead.
Leah wished she could get him to see that this was not about Rebecca. She didn’t control him or his life, but she did control a part of his mind. He was obsessed with her and, until he dealt with her one way or the other, she would always be this constant negative presence dragging him down. Why couldn’t he just let her go? Because she was his mother and as much as he hated her, he still loved her.
“You need to forget about her, Alex. You’ve survived her. She’s the one rotting away in prison.” Leah caressed his face, focusing his attention on her and not the memories that would forever haunt him. “She can’t hurt you anymore. She can’t hurt us unless you let her. You’re free of her.” Despite her words, she could see in his eyes he was as imprisoned by his memories of her as the bars that kept her locked away from society. Alex had also been sentenced to life without the possibility of parole—a life of haunting memories of the mother who scarred him to his soul.
They spent several more hours talking and making plans. Alex had more energy than he had shown in years. Leah couldn’t h
elp but feel his excitement, his enthusiasm, but unlike him she was completely exhausted. Her bed was beckoning her, and her body gave her no choice but to heed its call. Alex was too wired to sleep, so she went to bed alone but he joined her a few hours later awakening her from her glorious slumber.
There were worse ways to wake up than to be kissed all over until her heated body overflowed with desire for the only man who could ever ignite the sexual flame inside her. Just like that, her exhaustion was replaced with passion as she tried to rip off Alex’s shirt. Frustrated with her own weakness, she nearly cried from disappointment as she was unable to free him of his clothes.
“For now on, you only wear button-down shirts, or rather you should just stop wearing shirts.”
Alex chuckled as he sat up and slowly removed his shirt. “What about pants? Should I throw them all away?” He stood on the bed and slowly slid his jeans and briefs off.
“We could give them to charity. Not everyone is equipped to walk around naked,” she suggested as she licked her lips and stared at his body bathed in the moonlight.
“You don’t mind other women seeing me naked?”
“They can look, but they can’t touch. I kind of like the idea of every woman ogling you and being jealous because you’re mine, all mine. Always.”
“I am yours always Leah, as long as you will have me.”
He looked so serious suddenly, and she just wanted to erase the worry in his eyes. As much as they had been through, he should feel more secure—she would never leave—but there was so much doubt in his face. Her words were not enough. Maybe she could show him. Allow her love for him to demonstrate her commitment to him.
“Sounds like we have a date with eternity, then.” She reached for him and he collapsed on top of her. She pushed him on his back and straddled him. He let her take control, completely surrendering himself to her.
She rode him until they both exploded from the passion that had built up from the weeks apart. She crumbled into his arms, sprawled out on his chest like a blanket. He held her tight as she buried herself in the safety of his warmth.
“Forgive me,” he whispered as he kissed the top of her head.
“There’s nothing to forgive.” He sighed and Leah lifted her head up and tilted his chin so that his eyes were forced to meet hers. “There’s nothing to forgive, Alex” she repeated. “It’s time we bury the pain of the past and only remember the good times that brought us together and that have kept us together since we were babies. It’s time we move on and I want nothing more than to move on with you.”
She kissed him tenderly, pouring all her love for him into that kiss. Finally he surrendered and kissed her back. She broke the kiss and rested her head on his chest. The steady beat of it lulling her to sleep. Before she faded, she heard Alex’s gentle, soft voice say, “I’m sorry, Leah.”
II
The next few weeks went by so fast that Leah could hardly remember what day it was or even what month. She was running on fumes, churning out article after article to Marcus’ delight. Her boss may have pleased with her enthusiasm for her work, but Alex was another story. At times he seemed to resent the hours she spent at work and away from him. She hated the time apart as well, but her passion for writing was stronger than ever and she thirsted for the opportunity to challenge her mind and create something new, something memorable.
So often she tried to explain her love of words to Alex. In many ways, he did understand. He used to love art as much as she loved to write. She hoped one day when she wrote a children’s book, he would illustrate it and bring her characters to life. This would be something special they could create together. Another gift to bond them closer, yet that dream seemed so remote now. Alex hadn’t painted or drawn anything in years. His love of art took a backseat to his need for heroin. The few beautiful paintings he completed he sold for drugs. Eventually he sold all his equipment as well. Nothing mattered to him but his white powdered friend.
Leah sighed as she slammed her breakfast dishes in the sink, shattering a mug. She was trying so hard to escape the memories of the havoc of Alex’s addiction, but it still haunted her. She wanted to move on, but part of her was waiting, even expecting, Alex’s inescapable friend to lull him back into a world of drugs and ruin their lives once more.
She wanted to believe he could beat this, but this nagging part of her kept waiting for him to fail. She hated herself for feeling this way. For doubting him when he needed her faith in him, but fourteen days could not be enough. He should have stayed the whole time.
She watched him closely for weeks, looking for any sign of a relapse, but so far he was either maintaining his sobriety or hiding his failure well. She hoped for the former, but feared for the latter.
“Stop it, Leah,” she cursed herself, angry with her doubts. If Alex knew of her lack of faith in him he would definitely return to using drugs, and she would have no one to blame but herself for not supporting him when he needed it. She tried so hard to mask her feelings and be supportive of him knowing the truth of her doubts would devastate him. They devastated her.
She started to sway as another bout of nausea struck her. Two days in a row she woke up feeling like she should stay in bed forever. Her head pounded and her heart ached just as much. Guilt. That was her illness, she knew, and if she wasn’t careful, she would end up with a nasty ulcer. She was keeping all these negative emotions inside and they were eating away at her like a toxin in her system. She needed to talk to someone. Someone with whom she could share her doubts and unburden herself from this guilt weighing her down. The problem was that the one person she wanted to confide in would be the one person she absolutely could not tell this to, for Alex would never understand.
Times like this she wished she had worked harder to make friends and to maintain relationships, but with Alex’s disease, it was easier to push people away then to let them see the truth of his addiction. This was a battle they fought alone. No outsiders to witness the decay of their lives. Another consequence of drug addiction. It was a lonely, isolating sickness and not just for the one who was the addict, but for the ones who loved the addict.
The only real friendship Leah had managed to maintain was her bond with Claire. Claire was the one person she could trust besides Alex.
She hadn’t talked to her much lately. The last time was the day after Alex had returned from rehab. Claire had not been an easy person to reach this summer. She had decided to put off work for a while and spend her parents’ money touring Europe. Leah had wished she could join her carefree friend on this adventure, but her life was not about spontaneity and freedom. There was work and other obligations she could not turn away from, even though the lure of freedom was a taunting temptation.
Part of her always wondered what it would be like to be Claire for a day. It might be fun briefly, but Leah knew Claire’s impulsiveness would drive her nuts. She couldn’t last a day in that whirlwind of chaos. She needed order and structure.
That was why Alex’s addiction was such a cancer to her life. It turned her orderly world into havoc, leaving her powerless and lost. After these past weeks of stability, she couldn’t imagine a return to mayhem. Alex had to beat this and stay clean for both of them.
Her mind was a swirl of thoughts and fears. She needed a release. She reached for her cellphone and dialed Claire. It was early, but this was the best time. Alex had left an hour ago to go running. Exercise had become his new addiction. Although Leah initially doubted he was working out each morning, the results could not be denied. He was growing stronger and more fit each week. He was starting to look like the remarkably gorgeous Alex she’d ogled as a teenager.
So many others vied for Alex’s attention back in high school. He was the best looking guy in school and, with his bad-boy streak, every girl in their class wanted a chance to be with him, but he rejected them all. For some reason Leah would never understand, his eyes, the color of the bluest sea, only ever looked for her.
“Leah, some
one better has died for you to call me this early in the morning,” a grumpy Claire complained as she answered the phone.
“That’s a horrible thing to say. Besides, it’s not that early.”
“It’s 8:22 on a Saturday morning. I went to bed two hours ago.”
“Well, whose fault is that?” Leah questioned. “Most normal people go to bed before the next day begins.”
“It’s not my fault. Blame belongs to the six-foot-tall med student I met at a club last night who decided to give me a full body exam. Let’s just say I think we both passed that test. If only I could take it again and again.”
“You’re such a pig!” Leah squealed. “You just met the guy.”
“I got to know him really well last night,” Claire teased. “It only takes a few beers to learn everything you need to know about a potential one-night stand. You are such a prude, which is amazing considering you lost your virginity several years before I gave it up. Technically you are the slut in this relationship.”
“Far from it. Unlike you, I’ve only given it up to one guy.”
“I only give it up to one guy at a time. Granted, that’s just because I haven’t found two to play with at the same time.”
Both women laughed, easing much of the tension that had been weighing on Leah.
“You’re impossible, but I can always count on you for a laugh, Claire. I don’t know what I would do without you and the tales of your sexcapades.”
“Well, that’s one thing you don’t have to worry about. You’re stuck with me, Lee, and as long as I can find a guy, I’ll always have a story to tell. Seriously though my friend, why are you calling so disgustingly early in the morning? I hope it’s not bad news about your beloved Alex. Did he come home wasted again or did you find him in a gutter somewhere last night?”
For the Love of Alex Page 8
