I sighed, eyeing the mess, and turned my head. I smiled sweetly up at Jae.
“Any chance you want to help me with the dishes?”
Jae attempted to glare but only lasted about half a second before he was laughing and nodding in agreement.
July 24, Friday
Enoch
The cars on the road and my music had become nothing but background noise as I drove on autopilot from base to my house. I admittedly should have been paying closer attention to traffic, but my brain was filled with an anxious energy that had become somewhat constant since Shiloh’s confession.
How was she feeling? What was she doing? Had she resisted temptation? Would she lie to me when I asked her these questions? Would I be walking into a scene from a horror film when I got home?
Despite the fact that Shiloh had shown little outward difficulties, I knew that these past four days had been hard. She showed it in the way her shoulders were always tensed, how quick to snap she was, and how little interest she had in eating food. And I was so fucking proud of her. Another seven hours and she would make it to five days clean. The longest she’d have resisted self-harming for nearly three years she had said.
We’d fallen into a relatively easy routine after the first day of her living with us. Her schedule was different to mine, but I had looped Jae into sticking around the house if I was not home. Like when she got off work at noon. Or when I was desperate to go to a meeting.
It wasn’t that I necessarily had any strong urges to drink, rather that I needed the reminder of how far I’d come and just how capable I was in coping with the stress that came with supporting Shiloh during this time. I was terrified that I wouldn’t be enough for her. That I wouldn’t be enough of a deterrent for her to not take a blade to her skin, to not put a bullet through her skull.
Because at the end of the day, this was Shiloh’s battle. And I was just on the sidelines. These last four days had made me realize just how difficult it must have been for Jae to watch me struggle to get sober. Because this helplessness, this inability to fix things for her, to make the temptations go away, to force her to give up the heartbreaking belief that she should no longer be living…it was torturous. And exhausting.
And I knew that it was only that much more intense, more tiring, more frustrating, for her. And she was incredible. She was truly incredible in her ability to keep going. In her willingness totry, to give this life another chance when it had only ever stolen her will to live.
I thanked God every morning when I woke up to her in my bed. I thanked God for keeping her alive another day. For letting me find this purpose in my own struggles—to use my sobriety and past depression as a means to understand Shiloh and encourage her.
I’d done so much research on how to help her with her addiction to self-harming, but only she could be the one to actually follow through with my advice. And thankfully, thank God, she had. So far.
Much like my early days in AA, we focused on filling up her time, down to every hour of the day. So that she didn’t have much opportunity for rumination or even the chance to realize that she was missing something—her addictive behavior. Obviously, she would still be thinking about it, but keeping her busy meant that she had less time to do so. We filled her time with hobbies that she enjoyed, like exercising. She’d gotten pretty good at punching the shit out of the bag downstairs in the home gym. She tried reading, but couldn’t get herself to focus, so instead, she put in headphones and would listen to an audiobook while she completed tasks around the house. Yesterday, the task she focused on was painting the bathroom. We’d picked out a color together at the hardware store and she’d managed to paint the whole room. She said that she surprisingly enjoyed it and had made some big plans about redoing the guest bedroom. She said she wanted to add some wallpaper, new paint, and DIY some wainscotings. She was worried about messing it up, but I didn’t care. I was just happy that she had found something that distracted her well enough.
I pulled into the driveway and parked, nervous for what was to come. I prayed quickly that Shiloh was doing well before I reached the front door.
The smell of something delicious had my stomach rumbling as I stepped into the house. There was the distant sound of the vacuum going somewhere upstairs. I placed my shoes on the rack and my backpack in the hall closet before ascending the stairs.
A quick glance around revealed an empty, spotless, space, and food in the oven. My stomach tensed, anxious curiosity causing me to question the motives behind Shiloh’s cleaning of the living and dining room. Was it just a distraction for her today? Or was she trying to compensate for slipping?
I followed the sound of the vacuum until I reached my bedroom. Shiloh had her back to me, her hips swaying as she pushed the vacuum methodically around the room. I realized she was listening to music as she paused for a second to bob her head and play some imaginary drums. I smiled, as I watched her for a moment. I couldn’t wait any longer to greet her and give her a kiss, so I moved to the outlet, and bent down to unplug the cord. I was afraid of startling her by calling out her name over the sound of the vacuum and very likely loud music.
After the mistake I’d made the other day at her apartment, I wasn’t taking any chances when it came to approaching her without thoroughly announcing my presence. My gut clenched just thinking about how close I’d come to being shot. It was a testament to her reflexes that she was able to control her fear and not pull the trigger. I shook off the memory as I straightened.
Shiloh froze, turning on her heel, brow furrowed in confusion as to the interruption before a smile brightened her face with recognition. I caught her eyes track down my body and a rush of heat filled my chest at the knowledge that she was checking me out.
“Sorry,” I said, letting the cord drop to the floor and walking to meet her in the middle of the bedroom. “I just didn’t want to scare you when you couldn’t hear me over the vacuum.”
She smiled appreciatively and I pulled her into a hug. She melted against me, breathing in deeply as her head rested against my chest.
“I missed you,” I said, squeezing her to me when she attempted to pull back. “What did you do today?”
She relaxed back into my arms, her fingers playing with the belt loop of my trousers. “Uh, well, I went to work, stopped at the grocery store, and then came home, and Jae and I put dinner in the ov—”
My heart thumped louder. “Home,” I hummed into her neck, as I placed a kiss against her throat. “I like the sound of that.”
She huffed and I could just tell without seeing her eyes that she was rolling them. “You know what I meant, shitbird.”
I chuckled, moving her hair over her shoulder to kiss her neck. “I know. I just like the sound of you and me sharing a home.” I trailed my lips up her neck, and she shivered. “You cooked?”
“Mmhmm.”
“It smells delicious,” I whispered, finally kissing her soft lips. I felt her smile against my mouth. “When will it be ready?”
