The Wright Mistake(86)

Jensen, Emery, and Sutton showed up when we were already almost finished with my old apartment. I didn’t have that much stuff. Especially after burning half of my clothes, including that damn bomber jacket. Sutton looked like a hollowed-out version of herself. Since Mav had died a month earlier, she’d lost at least ten pounds. Her cheekbones jutted out of her face, and her dress hung off of her. She didn’t say much, just started picking up small boxes and taking them to the moving truck.

By the time we done unloading at my new studio apartment downtown, it was lunchtime. The selling point of the place was that it had the gorgeous space for my art. And I figured, if Austin was getting the help he needed, then I was going to help myself, too.

Sutton came to stand at my side in the art studio. All I had in there were a few boxes of supplies and an easel.

She stared at the blank easel. “Do you love my brother?” she asked.

I turned to face her, but she wasn’t looking at me. She was somewhere very far away.

“I don’t know if it’s that simple.”

“I heard how much of an idiot he was.” She finally met my eyes with her sad, sorrowful ones. “But, if you love him—and I assure you that he loves you—and you let him go because of his relapse, then you’re the idiot.” She sighed. “I’m just saying…you never know how much time you have together. Forgiving someone is easier than living without them.”

I watched her retreating back with a rapidly growing ache in my chest. Sutton had firsthand experience in the matter, and it had drastically changed her from the silliest of the entire Wright bunch to…the wisest.

And her words were wise.





Austin


“Austin!” Morgan said with a huge smile. She threw her arms around me and squeezed me tight. “Man, I’ve missed you. I didn’t realize how quiet it would be without you cutting up.”

I laughed and released Morgan. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You look good,” Landon said.

We clapped hands, and then he pulled me in for a hug.

“Not good but better,” I told him.

They were all here. In California. Jensen, Landon, Morgan, and even Sutton.

“Hey, sis,” I said, pulling my little sister toward me.

She was a shell of her former self. I couldn’t believe how tiny she was. She’d never been a big girl, but now, she was a rail.

“Are they feeding you? Because I have a personal chef here, and he’s the shit.”

She cracked a smile. “I eat. Don’t worry about me. We’re here for you.”

Jensen reached out and shook my hand last. “I think I like this place even better than when I dropped you off.”

“It grows on you.”

It had grown on me. In the month I’d been here, I’d started to love the Malibu center. The first week at least, I’d hated it. Well, I’d hated everything and everyone. Detoxing my body from all the alcohol I’d consumed over the years was more painful than I’d ever imagined. I was right when I’d thought that going cold turkey would kill me. It probably would have without the right people looking over me. But, now, I was into the actual rehabilitation part. That also meant, visitors. Eventually maybe even approved weekend trips, but I wasn’t going to hold my breath.

“No Patrick?” I asked.

“He couldn’t make it,” Morgan said. “He has a big work project. His boss is a bitch.”

I laughed. “You’re not a bitch. You’re just efficient.”

“He’ll be here next time. Don’t worry.”

“Good. And…Julia?” I managed to get out.

I’d talked about Julia a lot in therapy. Thought about how I’d treated her, how I felt about her, where to go from here. Not that therapy gave anyone answers. Just a hell of a lot more things to think about. And Julia was constantly on my mind.

All of my siblings were stone-cold silent though.

Finally, Landon spoke up, “She’s doing good. She’s just still…I don’t know.”

“She needs more time,” Sutton finished. “But she misses you.”

“She said that?” I asked hopefully.

“No, but I know she does.”

“Oh.”

I supposed that was a start. I didn’t expect her to ever forgive me…or even miss me. So, if she did, I’d take it.

“Well then…why don’t I show you around?”

I took my siblings on a tour of the facility. If I weren’t here for rehab, I would think this was a resort. It had heated pools and private tennis courts, a spa, horseback riding, and even a fully equipped art studio. I would have loved to show that to Julia. If I had an artistic bone in my body, I would take some classes. But I’d leave that to her.