Free Starting Over (Treading Water Trilogy) by Marie Force Page A

and find a way to accept the hand that life dealt both of you. If you continue to harbor all these secrets and resentments, your ability to stay sober will be seriously impaired at some point. You must also tell your father how you feel about the business and his expectations for you.”

    “Yes, I know. I have to find a way to get through to my dad. As for Aidan, I doubt he’s even speaking to me.”

    “Then write him a letter. Find a way to explain your feelings to him. It’s going to be absolutely critical to your continued recovery that you let go of all the anger you’ve been hauling around with you for most of your life.”

    “I hear you.”

    “Call me if I can help.”

    “Um, I want to thank you. I don’t know how you did it, but you got me to tell you things I’ve never told anyone.”

    She smiled. “My special gift.”

    “I’d say so,” he said with a chuckle. “Thank you.” He reached a hand out to her.

    She squeezed his hand and handed him the leather book she’d retrieved from her desk.

    “What’s this?”

    “A journal. I give one to all my graduates. Try to write something every day about the challenges and the temptations and how you feel about them. Sometimes putting it down on paper helps.”

    Brandon took the book and stood up. He wanted to hug her but thought it would be inappropriate.

    She solved the problem for him when she took a step toward him with her arms out. “Good luck to you, Brandon. We’ll all be praying for you.”

    “Thank you for everything,” he said, returning her embrace.

    “Be well.”

     
    After he signed discharge paperwork, Brandon returned to his room to finish packing. He zipped the book Sondra had given him into his bag, sat on the bed, and ran his hands through his hair. He was scared—truly frightened about his ability to stay sober once he left the safety net of the rehab facility. He felt as vulnerable as a newborn about to leave the womb. What if he couldn’t do it? What if he fell back into old habits and routines once he returned to familiar surroundings? What if he disappointed everyone who had such high hopes for him?

    Stop it . You can’t fail at this . One by one, the faces of the people he’d let down flashed through his mind: his parents, siblings, nieces, nephews, Valerie, the men who worked for him, and the friends he’d abandoned on his spiral into alcoholism.

    He reached over to unzip his bag and retrieved the journal. Rooting around in the bottom of the bag, he found a pen. On the first page of the book, he wrote the date . “ Today is my thirtieth day of sobriety. I promise myself I will stay sober. I vow to read this promise any time I’m tempted to solve my problems by drinking. I owe more to the people in my life than what they’ve gotten from me. I’m going to do better. I’m not going to forget what I learned at Laurel Lake. ” He paused for a moment before he added, “ So help me, God. ”

    After he reread what he had written, Brandon returned the journal and pen to his bag and zipped it closed, releasing a long deep breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

    The intercom buzzed, and he got up to answer it. “Brandon, your father’s here.”

    “Thank you.”

    He picked up his bag and took a last look at the sterile little room that had been his home for a month. “So help me, God,” he whispered once more before he walked out the door to face what waited for him at home.

     

Chapter 9, Day 30

    On the forty-minute ride home to Chatham, Dennis kept up a steady stream of chatter about the goings-on at work, the latest funny stories about Erin’s kids, and yet another project Colleen had embarked upon in the big, pink house.

    Brandon turned his face into the chilly air coming in through the small crack he opened in the window. After being so removed from regular life, something as simple as fresh air rushing in through an open window seemed extraordinary. His senses, dulled for so long by alcohol,