Except she already has.
He climbed in his truck and drove away. When he hit the entrance to the subdivision, instead of turning left to head back out to theranch, he turned right. He didn't know where he was even headed until he found himself pulling into the parking lot of the liquor store.
A sharp pang of disappointment filled him. Disappointment in himself.
Riley would be disappointed in him too.
But what does she care right now?
His parents, Jake, and Emily. Ever since he came home, he'd been afraid he'd let them down again someday.
So why not today?
Emily always encouraged him to choose faith over fear."Instead of being afraid you will fail again someday, have faith that you will stay sober for the rest of your life."
He'd already committed to turn his life over to God months ago, knowing He could make more of it than Daniel could. So why was he contemplating turning his back on God now?
He put his truck into park and stared at the small gray building.
Do I really want to do this?
He reminded himself of the steps he hadn't had to use for some time to deal with a craving.
1. Acknowledge the craving.
Oh, I've acknowledged it, alright. For the past three days!
Wiping the perspiration from his brow, he shut off the engine and pulled the keys from the ignition. Once again, he looked at the liquor store. Only twenty yards away.
2. Recognize that it will pass.
Except it hasn't!
Swiping a hand over his mouth, his gaze zeroed in on the front door of the store. The heel of his right boot bounced against the floor as he gripped the steering wheel with both hands, twisting against the leather.
3. Distract yourself.
This is where he got hung up every time. He couldn't work out in the weight room in the stables, because it reminded him of Riley nowadays. He couldn't whittle, because it had become a tie to Riley.
Riding?
Riley.
Shooting?
Riley.
His life was so wrapped up in Riley, her withdrawal—and now rejection—made him feel completely lost without her. Alcohol would make him not feel so lost and alone. He imagined the burn of whiskey sliding down his throat then had to swallow the saliva that filled his mouth.
With a trembling hand, he unbuckled his seat belt. Instead of opening his door like he was tempted to do, he pulled the sobriety chip from his pocket. He ran his thumb across the black and bronze surface, then around the edge where the words Unity, Service, and Recovery were etched. He pressed his thumb against the number eight in the center until the flesh under his nail turned white.
He considered calling Tom, his mentor from the AA group in Pasco. But he'd stopped attending there, and even though he'd gone to a handful of meetings here in Providence, he hadn't yet been assigned a sponsor. In fact, they'd asked him to be a sponsor.
Daniel wasn't ready for that, so he'd declined and hadn't gone back. He hadn't needed to while he and Riley were together. When he was with her, he had no desire to drink.
He could call Emily, or better yet, drive home and talk to her, which would distance him from the temptation of the liquor store or a bar. But it wasn't fair to Emily to tell her how much Riley's behavior affected him while she was trying to help Riley through her problems.
Then he remembered it was Monday night. Providence held AA meetings on Mondays and Thursdays, as opposed to Pasco's Tuesday and Friday meetings.
