Lethal

Chapter Thirty-Five.

Europe was amazing, the change of pace that I needed to get myself together. With every passing day spent working with my artist, I thought about Jibri less. I never could have imagined how impactful two weeks could be to me and my mental health, but I was eternally grateful.

I hadn't seen Jibri in a month; as expected, the concierge of my old building had informed me that flowers had been turned away, I wasn't sure if they continued after to arrive after Jericho turned my keys in, but I'd requested that my forwarding address not be disclosed to the flower delivery company. Jericho had moved me into my new place by the time that I'd landed, and I was unsure what to do with the mixed emotions that I felt. I still thought about Jibri often when I didn't have work to distract me, so I decided to fill my schedule with other things. I didn't want to miss him anymore.

"My name is Zana and I'm an alcoholic." I said to the room of strangers, "Well, I don't know if that's what I am. It might be more accurate to just call me an addict." I laughed mirthlessly.

A chorus of "Hi Zana" flooded the dimly lit recreational room. The sea of strangers blanketed me in a sense of security as I prepared to share with the group for the first time.

"I haven't had a drink in a little over two months now and I'm a month clean from my ex." I sighed, "I guess you could say that I'm afraid of myself- no, I don't trust myself anymore. The main reason that I wanted to start attending meetings was to properly heal with the help of people who would understand. Some nights I feel this sickening urge to either go to a bar or call up my ex, it took me a while to realize that the two things had similar effects on me. All I can say is that I'm trying my best, but I still feel like I should be doing more." I felt a lump form in my throat, "That's all I have to share right now."

The others thanked me for sharing and then one by one, shared their own stories. The sobriety of the group ranged from twenty years to just a few hours and I could relate to all of them. My decision to seek out Alcoholics Anonymous wasn't instantaneous; as a matter of fact, I'd been feeling sick to my stomach from craving the things that would make everything else disappear- but I couldn't, not anymore. I was determined to rise above, to take things slowly and to stay far away from romantic entanglements for a while. All I wanted and needed was my work and my family; men could wait until I figured myself out.

The first breath that I took when I left the meeting felt different; I felt lighter in general just by sharing such a minuscule summary of my life's events over the last few months. Months- the idea that my life could take so many turns in less than a year was frightening. My phone buzzed as I walked aimlessly along the street, daydreaming about a brighter tomorrow. I'd set a reminder for a meeting that I'd booked with a realtor.

It was time to shed all of my old skin; part of that included ceasing my use of the communal studio at Ms. Fox's production company. I was ready to go it alone and the first step was finding the perfect studio space for myself and my clients. Without hesitation, I called a car to pick me up and take me across town to the building that I was set to view. My stomach turned, butterflies doing somersaults as I allowed myself to imagine. Thinking too far into the future was reckless, but I allowed myself to indulge in such fantasies every once in a while.

The realtor was waiting for me outside of the building when I arrived, he was clad in a crisp suit as he chatted on his phone. He offered me a smile and wave and wrapped up his phone call so that he could properly greet me. Standing at well over six feet, the older gentleman possessed a commanding presence as he spoke.

"Hi! Zana, right?" His baritone voice asked. "Elijah Garza."

I smiled politely and offered my hand for him to shake, "Pleasure to meet you, I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."