“And you’re an addict. We’ve all got crosses to bear, little sister. I’m working on my issues; what are you doing about yours?”
They glare at each other, at an impasse. Stony silence descends over the room. With a bolstering breath, I wade into it.
“I think we’ve established that no one in this room is perfect,” I murmur. “Everybody is a mess in their own way. Everybody needs help sometimes. There’s no shame in admitting that.” I swallow hard. “Chloe… I want to be there for you. We—” I glance quickly at Carter, and he gives a small nod. “We both want to be there for you. But the thing is, no matter how much anyone else wants to help… it won’t make a damn bit of difference. Not until you’re ready to accept it. Not until you’re ready to help yourself.”
Her head pivots toward me, eyes narrowed to slits. “You think I haven’t tried to get clean? You think I haven’t attempted staying sober? You make it sound so fucking easy.”
“I never said it was easy. It’s going to be hard. It’ll probably feel damn near impossible, some days.”
“Delightful,” she mutters.
“Chloe.”
I wait until she looks at me and, when she does, I see the fear in her eyes. It’s there, simmering just below the sassy retorts and snappy comebacks.
She’s afraid.
Afraid of what we’re saying. Afraid of the tough road that lies ahead of her. Afraid she won’t be able to stay upright without the crutch of happy pills and gin-soaked benders.
“I may not have known you all that long, but I think I know you pretty well, Chloe Thorne,” I whisper softly. “So I know you don’t want to keep living like this. Not really. Not if you’re being honest with yourself.”
Her fingers flex against the fabric of the bedspread, tapping out nervous patterns. Her only answer is a noncommittal hum through pursed lips.
I lean in, trying to catch her eyes again. “If I’m right — if you actually want to change — you have to commit to it completely. That means no more snorting coke at shitty clubs. It also means no more convenient baggie of pills in your pockets, no more stash of pot gummy bears, no more bong hits before breakfast. You can’t leave the door to addiction ajar; this time, you have to shut it completely. All or nothing.”
“Look — I know it’s been bad, lately. I’ve been bad,” she says in a small voice. “But this is all being blown out of proportion. A little pot isn’t going to hurt me. I’m going to be better. Try harder. I promise.Moderation. That’s the key.”
Carter’s skeptical scoff cuts the air like the fall of an axe. “That’s what you said last time, right before you OD’d and got sent to rehab. And the time before that, when I found that hack of a sobriety coach for you—”
“Travis was not a hack!”
“Fucking you on the side was not part of the contract he signed,” Carter snaps. “Unless his dick has some mystical healing properties I’m unaware of.”
Chloe blows out a huff of air. “Okay. So maybe he was a bit of a hack. But I don’t need another sobriety coach and I definitely don’t need to go back to rehab. I’m going to rein it in. You’ll see. I’ll get it under control. I’ll be better.”
“For how long?” Carter’s head shakes. “A week? A month? Six months? Maybe, if we’re really lucky, a full year?”
“That’s not fair,” she retorts.
He advances three steps, fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t talk to me about fair.Fuck! I’m so tired of this, Chloe. I’m tired of having this same conversation with you, an endless goddamn loop of promises and lies. I’m tired of watching you throw all your talent and intelligence away, chasing some high that will never keep you satisfied. Mostly, though, I’m tired of—” His voice cracks and I swear, the sound is so broken, so utterly defeated, it’s enough to make tears spring to my eyes. “I’m tired of waiting for the call from some doctor in a morgue telling me my little sister is dead.”
A tear snakes down Chloe’s cheek. She tries to swipe it away before we can see, but she’s not quick enough.
Carter continues roughly. “I had no father. I’d probably have been better off without the sad excuse for a mother who raised us. I can count my entire family on one finger. That’syou,” he whispers starkly. “If you die — if you kill yourself with this poison — I’ll have no one left.”
She keeps her face averted, but there’s no missing the streaming tears — or the morose sniffles that accompany them.
“As your only brother, I’m asking you for a favor.” Carter sets a hand on her frail shoulder and squeezes lightly, as though she’s liable to shatter beneath his grip. “Choose yourself. Choose yourself over the drugs. Over the crappy childhood. Over all the shit that’s happened to you. Over all the voices that make you question why you’re still here. Choose yourfutureover your past… and change your present.”
She glances up at him — eyes red-rimmed and full of tears. The silence between them stretches into a tangible thing, so thick in the air it’s hard to breathe properly.
“What if I fail again?” she whispers, barely audible. “What if I try to get clean and I can’t do it? What if… What if I let you down again? I’ve already disappointed you so many times…”
I reach across the bedspread and lace my hand with her limp one, squeezing as tight as I can manage. “You’ve got two people right here who believe you can do this, Chloe. But we can’t be the only ones.. You have to believe in yourself, too. You have to try. Really try. Whether that’s with talk therapy or guided meditation or a full ten-step program. You’ve got to be all in, this time.” I pause, careful not to look at Carter when I say the next part. Unable to meet his eyes as I repeat the words he once spoke to me, when I was at a low point of my own. “Someone very wise once told me… the hardest thing in the world is figuring out who you are and refusing to apologize for it. Being yourself in the face of great opposition.”
I hear a sharp inhale from Carter’s direction, but I keep going.
“You have a big obstacle in front of you. It’s never easy to start an uphill climb when you’re still at the bottom; it probably feels insurmountable right now. But if you never eventry… you’re letting the prospect of failure define you long before you’ve actually failed. And that’s just bullshit.” I squeeze her hand harder. “The Chloe Thorne I know doesn’t let anyone or anything define her.”