What could he say to that? He should have known an addict would sniff out the nearest fix.
Beth’s breathing returned in big heaves, punctuated by bursts of compulsive shaking that rattled her bones. ‘Now you’ll freeze,’ she accused.
‘I’ll get by. I have more insulation than you.’ He folded his arms, spread his legs. Classic Marc. ‘But we aren’t talking about me. We’re talking about you.’
‘Oh, I must have missed the point where your inquisition turned into a conversation.’
His mouth tightened. But her words had an effect. He forced himself to take a step back, to ease his body language. This was clearly hard enough for her. ‘I’d like to hear about it, Beth. To understand it.’ Though he had to force himself to say so calmly.
‘So you can decide how disgusted you should be? Or how much like your mother I am?’
He stiffened. ‘We’re going to be out here a long time yet, Beth. Did you really expect to drop a bombshell like that and then just go back to talking about the weather?’
No, she didn’t. Then again, she hadn’t planned to mention it at all—not to him—and, as it turned out, her instincts were spot on. She stared at him warily where once she would have blazed unconditional trust up at him. ‘It took me six months from the day I closed the door of Damien’s house behind me until the day I could stand up in AA and announce I’d been sober for a month.’ She sloshed his side of the whale because he’d frozen in position. ‘Then two. Then five. Then ten.’ She shuddered in a breath. ‘Two years of my life trying to undo what I’ve done. I’ve judged myself enough for everyone in that time.’
I really don’t need it from you.
He flushed, which was a miracle enough, given the temperature. Then he cleared his throat. ‘Please, Beth. No judgement.’
Uh-huh, sure. She drowned in his steady, silent regard but finally sighed, ‘What would you like to know?’
His pause was eternity. ‘All of it.’
Fair enough. She’d opened this door with her dramatic declaration. She might as well fling it wide and see what rumbled out. It couldn’t be any worse than the raw disgust he’d failed to hide. She took a moment gathering her thoughts. Her aching exterior merged with her interior perfectly. She couldn’t tell him all of it but there was still plenty left.
‘I hurt my family when I married Damien so young,’ she began, mostly a whisper but close enough that he could hear. ‘I hurt you. Turns out I hurt myself too. But at the time he was everything I thought I wanted—a holy grail, like some kind of hall pass of credibility. People treated me differently when I was with him and I … liked it. I’d been a pariah for so long …’
‘Because of me?’
The monotonous sound of the ocean began to mesmerize her. ‘No. Because of me. I chose you over all of them and their money.’ She pushed the words out through a critically tight chest. Between the cold and the anxiety, it was amazing she could breathe at all. ‘He found out pretty quickly that he didn’t like much about married life. The responsibility. The expectation. And I was so young and trying so hard to be what I thought a good wife would be. When he insisted on a drink, what else could I do?’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’d ask him what he wanted and bring a second.’
‘Misery loves company.’
So true in Damien’s case. ‘But then that point passed and it got so much worse.’
Marc stopped sloshing, his whole body wired. ‘Worse how? Did he hurt you?’
She straightened up, took a moment working out how to answer. ‘Sometimes.’ Shame washed through her. ‘I just blamed the drink. The more he drank the angrier he got, but the more I drank the less I cared.’
‘So your drinking was Damien’s fault?’
Her clumped hair screened her face as she shook her head. She’d never blamed her problems on anyone but herself and she wasn’t about to start now. No matter how tempting. ‘I made my own choices. It took me a long time to realise that, though.’
‘So what finally made you stop?’ The deepness of his voice rumbled in the night.
‘I realised I was halfway through my twenties and I’d done nothing with it. I had a job but not a career. I had a marriage but not a family. I had a husband I didn’t like and friends who only came over if I was buying. I had no interests.’ She shook her head. ‘I was a drunken bore with no achievements to my name, married to a man I didn’t love. So I packed an overnight bag and I left.’
That made her sound stronger than she’d actually been, cowering in the shower, sobbing, but the last thing she wanted from Marc was more pity. Or to lose any more face.
For long minutes the only sounds were the repetitive sloshing of water on the whale’s hide and the heaving of their lungs. And the tick-tick of Marc’s brain as he got his head around her speech.
‘What happened with McKinley?’
‘Nothing. He didn’t even try to stop me leaving. I wasn’t the only one that was miserable. We both made the mistake.’
‘You’ve cut all ties?’
‘He signed the divorce papers without even getting in touch. I haven’t seen him since.’ Although she did hear about him from time to time. Those stories were always peppered with sadness for the man he should have been and relief for the woman she’d so nearly become.
‘How hard was it—getting through the recovery?’
Was that more than just curiosity in his voice? Beth immediately thought of Janice. Sugar-coating wouldn’t help him. She straightened her tortured back and met his eyes. ‘You slog your guts out getting through the physical addiction and then you’re left with the emotional dependence.’ As hard as that was to admit. ‘But you can get through it. I did. Until, one day, you’ve been stronger than it for longer than you were addicted.’
Until curve-balls like today swing into your life.
‘You did it alone?’
‘My parents wanted to help, of course, but I. It was something I’d done to myself. I felt like I needed to undo it myself. To prove I could.’
‘So what got you through?’
You did. The memory of Marc. The idea of Marc. She chose her words carefully. ‘A dream of what I wanted to be.’ Who I wanted to be like. ‘And a strong AA sponsor.’
Marc was silent for a long time. He shook his head. ‘I feel like I should have been there for you. So you didn’t have to turn to a stranger. I should have been strong for you.’
Her heart split a little more for the loyalty he still couldn’t mask. Despite everything. ‘No, I had to be strong for me. Besides, it wouldn’t work if Tony was a friend. The emotional detachment is important.’
‘We’ve been pretty detached this past decade.’
It only took a few hours in his company for that to all dissolve. She lifted her eyes back to his and held them fast. ‘Do you feel detached now?’
His silence spoke volumes.
‘Will you be someone’s sponsor one day?’
That was a no-brainer. ‘Yes. When I’m strong enough.’
‘You seem pretty strong now. The way you speak of it. Like a survivor.’
Warmth spilled out from deep inside at his praise. She was still a sucker for it. ‘I have survived. But every day presents new challenges and I’m only just