‹ Prequel: Tongue Tied
Status: :)



People don’t realize when they start a bad habit how hard it really is going to be when they want to quit. Smokers go through nicotine withdraws, drug addicts need methadone to curb the feelings, and alcoholics are no different.

That’s what I was: an alcoholic (or former alcoholic, however you wanted to look at it). For four months I had fought the urges to drink again, the peer pressure I felt when I went out to a club with a friend, and the comfort and solace I previously felt after I had put back a couple.

I hadn’t fell off the wagon, however. I had made a promise to myself and to my loved ones that I was going to fight the good fight and I would win the race. It had been a difficult race so far not only physically but also emotionally. While making amends, I had lost a lot of friends. People didn’t take it too lightly to the fact that I had a problem, and to the one’s who didn’t support what I was trying to do, I said “fuck ‘em” because I really didn’t want them in my life anyways. I had became closer with my parents—something that hadn’t been done since before high school—and even began to get along with my six-year old twin sisters.

Negatives and positives always fall and rise when you quit a bad habit.


“Sissy, I’m getting tired!” Rhea exclaimed as we walked back from the park at the end of my parent’s neighborhood. For the third weekend that month I had sent my parents away for the weekend for a little R&R, and I had spent a couple of days with my already blossoming sisters. Isabella turned to me, and puffed out her bottom lip also—twin telepathy.

“Me too!” She yelled, louder than really deemed needed. I laughed and grabbed both of their hands in an attempt to drag them back to the house, I may have been able to pick up one of them and carry them back to the house, but not both.

“When we get back to the house you guys can take a break,” I explained to them as we made our way up the street and crossed over to where our house was. “And then in a little while maybe we’ll bake some cookies, huh?” I asked and both of their blue eyes—identical of our mother—lit up. They both cheered in agreement—because of cookies and the fact that we were back at the house, and I laughed. “Go insides, okay? I’m going to go get the mail.” I instructed them as they walked up the front steps and I walked to the end of the driveway.


I hadn’t expected to see him. I hadn’t since I had made my amends, and we “made up” in the elevator. I still didn’t know how he was going to treat me or how things were going to turn out. I knew things still weren’t going his way in terms of his concussion, and a first-round playoff lost to the Tampa Bay Lightening probably didn’t help that hurt any easier. I waved as he passed by me in his black Range Rover and he did the same, pulling the mail out of the mailbox, I had an eerie feeling that he was watching me.

“Hi,” he breathed through the frigid air we were having in April. I smiled and almost dropped the stack of bills and newspapers in my hand out of sheer nervousness.

“How are you doing?” I asked. He shrugged and pushed his hands into his pocket.

“About as good as I can. I came over to see if Alexa wanted to go and see a movie tonight.” I shook my head as he spoke.

“They went out of town for the weekend, some ski resort in West Virginia.” I commented back. His face dropped and suddenly I had an idea—however I didn’t know how exactly good it may or may not be.

“You drove all the way over here, want to come in? The twins and I are going to bake cookies in a little while,” the proposition didn’t exactly sound as exciting as it had in my head, and I instantly mentally slapped myself. He grinned and shrugged his shoulders non-chalantly, again.

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“They’re six, believe me, they’re getting tired of me.” I laughed as he took the pile of mail out of my hands.

“Well if you insist, at least let me help you here.” He said as he followed me up the stairs and into the front of the house.


“Are they actually asleep?” Sidney asked in a high whisper, from the other side of the room I had to choke back a high laugh.

“Shhh, we have to be quiet or else they’ll wake up.” I reminded him as I walked over to the couch where he was sitting after I finished cleaning up the remnants of my sister’s messes. Since Sidney had gotten there early on in the evening, we hadn’t been able to talk much between dinner, cookie baking, baths and bedtime routines. I was actually surprised that he was still there, it was probably the sheer tiredness he was feeling that kept him glued to the couch.

“I had a lot of fun tonight, thanks.” He mumbled as I struggled to keep my eyes open from the loveseat. I smiled—true and full—and nodded my head in agreement. It had been a really fun evening. The room was silent until he spoke up again, “Listen, I think we need to talk…” He began and my eyes opened, heart pounded, and my stomach began to feel extremely sick. In the past couple of hours that he had been there, I had managed to be able to forget the past, and now it was all about to pop back up again.

“Okay…” I managed to stumble out through the space of a couple of seconds. He looked directly at me and then let out a small smile.

“Calm down, Care. I want to talk not eat your brains,” he specified; however I wasn’t thinking that exactly. Another pregnant pause was held between us. “What’s going to happen between us?” He asked and I felt my heart stopping. Us? After my binge on tequila I hadn’t realized there was an ‘us’ anymore. I pondered what exactly I was supposed to say back and finally just spoke.

“What about us?” I asked, oh so eloquently. Sidney let out a long sigh and ran his hands through his curly mop. I was testing some sort of nerves.

“Let me ask you this, did you ever feel anything for me, before everything happened?” I answered even before I thought about it, though my answer came straight from the heart.


“Do you still feel that same way?” This time I didn’t answer so quickly. The feelings, or whatever they were, that I had felt towards Sidney right before I had gotten help were feelings that I didn’t know how they transferred over to post-rehab. I sat there, stumped, finally thinking of what I should say.

“I’m not sure. I know you still make me nervous, and my heart pounds around you, and I still get those butterflies. But does it really matter just about me?” It was beating around the bush, I knew, but I didn’t just want to go out and give all of my feelings away before he gave away any of his because I thought I might be landing on my ass for that.

“I loved you, Caroline. A lot. You hurt me by everything that happened that night, but I never stopped loving you. Ever.” He loved me. “I didn’t stop thinking about you those entire eighty days you were away, and when I started getting sick again you were the only person I wanted around. You made me feel whole and when everything happened, I think you took a little piece of my heart with you… Even if you didn’t realize it.” He loved me.

I had spaced out. I wasn’t freaking out. I was letting it all soak in and his words felt so good. I didn’t feel like I was drowning like the last time he tried to say something, I felt like I was floating on cloud nine and was one of the luckiest people in the world. My stomach fluttered, and I felt whole.


“What does it mean for us then?” I asked, biting down on my bottom lip. He sighed again and I knew not to take anything as a positive at that point. Body language said it all.

“I don’t know. I want to still be in love with you--”

“But I hurt you.” He nodded.

“A lot.” I understood. It wasn’t like I had just disappointed him, either.

“And you’re worried I’ll turn out the same again.” This time he shook his head fervernelty.

“Absolutely not. I know you’re in a good place now and you seem so much better. I’m just worried that I’m not good for you.” It was a simple statement, yet it had so much power behind it.

“I wouldn’t be good for you, Sidney. That’s what it really is. You were so good to me, yet I didn’t see that. I see it now and I realize how much I took advantage of you and hurt you. I’m willing to try again if you are, I just feel stronger this time.” He smiled and placed his hand on top of mine and traced the bracelet I was wearing.

“Baby steps?” He asked and I nodded in agreement.

“Baby steps.” It was the only way we were going to get anywhere.
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So let's just ignore the fact that I've been MIA from all of my stories, okay? Okay, good. Here's the first chapter. Hopefully I'll have more time to write and my muse will get the best of me.

ps: comment and subscribe.

xoxo Rachel.