Balotelli Bale Series Book #5: The Other Man Part 2

Prologue

Nick's POV
One year ago...
"Are you always drunk?"

I barely looked up from the floor. I am a mess since the split from Keira. I am constantly drinking, starting fights and have developed an excellent dual personality. During the day I try to remain an excellent father. My nights however are full of women, alcohol and fist fights. But even I know all that is bound to fail. That distinct line between the dad and the angry drunk is starting to blur.

A few things are true but one is fact.

I am my happiest with Keira.

Now that she is gone, I am an empty shell of a man. She took all the reasons to live away and I fell into a dark bottomless pit of pain, anger and despair. I lost everything the moment she came into my life. I lost my sanity, I lost all my wealth, I was disinherited by both my grandmother and my grandfather. The most painful part is that I couldn't even be a father to my only child. I was a mess and on a self-destructive path that hurt everyone around me.

I remember how my brother Tony would pick me up from the floor, trying to get me sober only for me to be in the same position the next morning. I had become a man not worth saving. But Tony never gave up. He flew long hours to check on me, chased me around the world when I was blowing through whatever wealth I had left. He stuck by me until my father's intervention.

He had the perfect timing. Unlike mom who fought with me every other day, he stayed out of it. He didn't call or text. He didn't show up until my bank account was empty and I had hit the ground hard.

Before that incident, I wouldn't have said my father is a compassionate man. I really felt his love at my lowest point. He really spoke to me, reaching my difficult heart and convincing me that rehab was the best way to go.

"That's how I ended up here." I concluded my narration of the tragic fall I've suffered. "I loved, I was betrayed and it hurt. But alcohol and sex didn't heal me. It only gave me a temporary high to forget my pain. I ran from my reality for an entire year until I asked for help." I gazed at my audience. My mom is crying. She better not be recording this. "Asking for help is not weakness, it's strength. Conceding defeat is not weakness, it's strength. Knowing you can longer do it by yourself is something we all feel and think of and acknowledge. But asking for help is the hardest part. I know this from experience but right now, the only reason I'm standing here not drunk or lying face down in a brothel bed is because of this very institution. I wouldn't be here without the support from the friends I made here or the staff who treated me like an ordinary human being. I'm grateful."

A round of applause followed.

I am at the rehab facility my father committed me to. After falling back into drinking and getting back the control, I am finally clean. It has now been a full two years of being sober.

Keira is the source of all these problems and she should be a distant memory. She's the only addiction I haven't been able to beat. My sweetest sin.

"That's why I would like to make a donation to the good people who run this foundation. Without all of you and your great work, I would have been a hopeless case."

Another round of applause culminated the small meeting as I handed the owner of the rehabilitation center a cheque. It isn't as much as I want to give given my 'tight' financial situation but it is all I have.

After I left the stage my father was the first one to embrace me. Getting hugs from him is now somewhat normal. It is the greatest feeling in the world to know he is right here, taking care of me. He put up with a lot of shit from me.

"I'm proud of you son, very proud. I have a gift for you."

He pulled me away from the guests and held out a black velvet box.