“This time was 98 days,” said Geoff. “My wife and kids were asleep. I logged onto Facebook and spent hours going through her photos, dreaming of our aborted life together. Playing ‘Wild is the Wind’ on repeat. Bowie, not Nina.”
People around the circle listened knowingly, no strangers to the humiliation of relapse.
“What triggered it?” asked the insufferable Damien.
“Some guy ordered a lavender latte. Her favourite drink.”
“One day at a time, man,” said Damien, like he’d invented the phrase. Everyone nodded, smiled. Geoff yearned for his old group.
No one mentioned the purple stain on Geoff’s lips.
People around the circle listened knowingly, no strangers to the humiliation of relapse.
“What triggered it?” asked the insufferable Damien.
“Some guy ordered a lavender latte. Her favourite drink.”
“One day at a time, man,” said Damien, like he’d invented the phrase. Everyone nodded, smiled. Geoff yearned for his old group.
No one mentioned the purple stain on Geoff’s lips.
