Never Enough

Chapter 23

Jordan's P.O.V

The first rays of dawn crept through the thin curtains of Adam's apartment, casting a pale light across the room and slicing through the remnants of my alcohol-induced haze. I lay on the couch, cocooned in a threadbare blanket that smelled faintly of lavender and old books, feeling as though I'd been run over by a freight train. The night had been a blur, a succession of dark thoughts and hazy memories punctuated by the occasional flicker of relief provided by Adam's steady presence.

I groaned and shifted, trying to find a position that didn't make my head pound with relentless insistence. The remnants of the whiskey and regret clung to me like a second skin. My mouth was dry, and my stomach churned with a queasy mix of nausea and self-recrimination. I fumbled for my phone on the coffee table, squinting at the screen to check the time. It was still early—too early for rational thought or coherent action. I heard the soft murmur of voices from the kitchen and the clink of dishes, and a few moments later, Adam appeared in the doorway, carrying a steaming mug of coffee and a plate of toast. His face was a mask of concern mixed with resignation, a look that had become all too familiar.

"Morning," he said, his voice gentle as he set the mug and plate on the table next to me. "How are you feeling?"

I pushed myself up, wincing as my head protested the movement. "Like death warmed over. Thanks for not letting me drown in my own misery last night."

His lips curled into a small, reassuring smile. "You're welcome. You needed a friend, not a bottle. Drink this. It'll help." I took the mug gratefully, savoring the warmth that seeped into my cold fingers. The coffee was strong and bitter, but it was a welcome antidote to the fog in my brain. I took a tentative sip, wincing as the caffeine jolted me awake. The toast was plain, but it was the most delicious thing I'd ever tasted in my current state.

Adam settled into a chair across from me, watching with a mixture of sympathy and concern. "We need to talk about what happened last night. But first, how about you tell me what's going on? What happened with Alexus?"

I swallowed the last of the toast, the simple act of eating bringing a measure of clarity. "I messed up, Adam. I thought if I showed Alexus I was trying, that I could fix things. But instead, I just made everything worse."

Adam's expression softened. "Jordon, you've been carrying a lot of weight on your shoulders. You can't expect to fix everything overnight. Relationships are complex, and healing takes time. What did you hope to achieve by confronting Alexus last night?"

I ran a hand through my disheveled hair, trying to organize my thoughts. "I wanted to apologize, to make her see that I was trying to change. But she's so angry, and I understand why. I didn't listen to her, and now... now I've pushed her away for good."

Adam leaned forward, his gaze steady. "It's important to acknowledge your mistakes, but it's equally important to give Alexus the space she needs. You can't force her to forgive you or come back. What you can do is work on yourself, prove through your actions that you're capable of change."

I nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "I just don't know where to start. Everything feels so... impossible."

Adam's expression turned thoughtful. "It's a process, Jordon. Start by addressing your own issues, and then work on rebuilding trust with Alexus, if she's open to it. But you need to focus on yourself first. Seek therapy, work on your habits, and give yourself time to heal."

The enormity of what Adam was suggesting felt overwhelming, but there was a glimmer of hope in the idea of a structured path forward. "You're right. I've been so caught up in trying to fix things with Alexus that I've ignored my own need for growth. Maybe it's time I focus on myself for a change."