“It was, until it wasn’t.” I rubbed my jaw, remembering those dark years. “When Hudson discovered alcohol, he approached it with the same intensity he brought to everything else. And when alcohol wasn’t enough, he found other things. Pills. Cocaine. You name it.”
I could still remember the first time my father had called me, his voice shaking with barely controlled rage and fear, telling me that Hudson had been found unconscious. That had been the beginning of a nightmare that lasted too many years.
“He almost died three times,” I continued. “The first two times, we all rallied around him. Got him into the best treatment centers money could buy, surrounded him with therapists and specialists. He’d get clean, seem like he was turning his life around, and then…”
“He’d relapse,” Sylvie finished softly.
“Every time. And each relapse was worse than the last.” I took another drink, letting the warmth chase away some of the chill that always settled in my chest when I thought about those years. “The third time, we almost lost him for good.”
I could still see Hudson’s face the last time I’d seen him before that final overdose—thin, hollow-eyed, but smiling as he told me about this girl he’d met. Diana. He’d seemed so hopeful, so genuinely happy in a way I hadn’t ever seen him, even before the addiction problems.
“What happened?” Sylvie asked.
“He met a girl.” I couldn’t help but smile at that, even with the painful memories. “They had a hot and heavy thing but he fucked it up as usual. Her family didn’t like him, and he got in his own way.”
“Sounds typical for an addict.”
The night of Hudson’s final overdose was burned into my memory with perfect, horrible clarity.
“They were separated, and he didn’t handle it well. It was close that time. Close enough to snap some sense into him.”
Sylvie’s hand found mine, her fingers warm and steady. “That must have been terrifying for all of you.”
“It was. But it’s what got him on the right path. He got his shit together and somehow convinced Diana he wasn’t a total waste of time.”
“She’s still with him?”
“Yep. They’ve got a family and he’s good. He’s happy. I know it’s a fight for him every day. For a while, all family functions were dry, but he said he didn’t want that. He lived in the real world and needed real world temptations. So it’s around, but we keep it limited.”
“How long has he been sober now?”
“Couple years. He runs a recovery foundation with a couple of my other brothers. They’ve helped hundreds of people get clean and stay clean. People that can’t afford fancy spa rehabs you see on TV commercials.”
Sylvie was quiet for a long moment, processing what I’d told her.
“That’s why you knew how to handle Mr. Withers tonight. You’ve been through this before.”
I nodded. “I’ve learned that you can’t force someone to get sober, but you can meet them where they are. Show them they’re not alone. Sometimes that’s enough to plant a seed.”
“Your brother is lucky to have you,” she said. “And Diana sounds like an amazing woman.”
“She is. She saw something in Hudson that the rest of us had given up on. Sometimes it takes an outsider to help you see what’s possible.”
As I said the words, I realized I was talking about more than just Hudson and Diana. Sitting here with Sylvie, seeing the world through her eyes, I was beginning to understand things about myself that I’d never questioned before. The way she looked at her family’s legacy and that fierce protectiveness she felt for her community. I loved to witness the genuine joy she found in simple traditions. It was showing me possibilities I’d never considered.
“Thank you for telling me,” Sylvie said, her thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of my hand. “It means a lot that you trusted me with something so personal.”
This woman was dangerous to everything I thought I knew about my life, about what I wanted, about who I was supposed to be.
And I was falling for her harder than I’d ever fallen for anyone in my life.
I shrugged. “He’s got a lifelong challenge ahead of him. But it’s amazing how much a good woman can change a man.”
“I’m glad to hear your brother came out the other side a better person,” she said softly,
“It was worth it,” I said. “He’s happy now, in a way I don’t think he ever was before.” I looked at her. “What about Mr. Withers? How long has he been like this?”
Sylvie’s expression grew sad. “Phineas hasn’t been the same since his wife died twenty years ago. Tilly was everything to him. His best friend, his business partner, his whole world. I think he always assumed he’d go first, you know? Men usually do. And now he’s lived two decades without her, and he gets angrier every year.”
