For A Minute I Was Stone Cold Sober Novels & Stories

"Oh, it went well- I'm still… beyond shocked and blessed that Tony got insurance 'n called her to come in the first place. But… am I really sober on this?" "Damn, did he now? That's a surefire sign he still loves you, haha. And hey, there's no shame in usin' Suboxone to get clean. It's an opiate itself, yes, but it's temporary and it works if taken responsibly. I was on it for a few months myself after I almost relapsed- uh, maybe don't tell Ant that either, on second thought, haha." Ethan slapped his back fraternally a couple times.

The ache in my chest that I had carried for so long was just a little less unbearable now. Sometime later, I was leaning against Mike on the couch, my head on his shoulder. He was steady. Grounded. "Mike?" I murmured, my voice dry. "Yeah?" I smiled sleepily. "Take me away." His arm pulled me just slightly closer—a promise. "Tell me that again when you’re sober," he said. Everything faded to black then.

I have a chance at something fucking real in my life and I'm not going to fuck it up over anyone. "Scott, please..." she whispered. I blinked hard, I needed to get my act straight, I needed to get my fucking shit together. I needed to be sober. I walked inside her home and slammed the door behind us. I massaged my temples, "Get me some water, Cindy." She nodded as she made her way to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of cold water. I snatched it from her and drank it. Fuck, I shouldn't have drunk this much.

Naomi stood at the front of the packed room; the applause was washing over her, but she barely heard it. She stared down at the bronze coin in her hand, felt its warmth travel from her palm, down the length of her arm, all the way to her core. One year. One year sober. “You can say something if you want,” Mirrie said in her ear. “But you don’t have to. We can just go and talk about what happened yesterday.” Naomi glanced up at her. Those violet eyes were watching her closely, and she smiled.

“Older.” “Yeah. That’s what happens when time moves forward.” He flinched a little, but I didn’t care. The words burned in my throat, and I needed them out. He took a breath. “I know I don’t deserve to ask for your time, but I’m trying to make things right, Jordan. I’ve been sober for two years now.” I laughed under my breath. It came out sharp. “Congratulations. You want a medal for that?” “Don’t—” He sighed, rubbing his face. “Don’t do that. I get it. You’re angry.”

Least of all me. ---

"Thank you." We take our seats, and the silence lingers until he finally speaks, his hands resting on the table, gazing at them as if they contain all his thoughts. "I am now sober," he states slowly and with intention. "It has been a few weeks. I am... striving to improve. I need to be better. For myself, and for you and our children." His voice trembles slightly, catching me by surprise.

My life has clearly been chaotic these past few weeks, all thanks to my dad and Jaxon—everyone putting me under pressure “You said it was important,” she clears her throat, looking everywhere except my eyes. “Please, sit.” I offered her my couch. She glanced around again before sitting down and that got to me. What was that look in her eyes? Fear? No, I must be mistaken right? She is not seeing me as a monster. So I push to my feet, keeping my movements calm so she sees it, so she notices the difference. “I’m sober,” I say, meeting her eyes. ““No drinks… just me.” I let out a small laugh, anything so that she lets her guard down.

I whispered, the word slipping out before I can stop it. “Yeah. Broken.” There’s a beat of silence. My throat feels tight. “When I got tired of wondering if I was hallucinating him—because, I mean, why him, when I could be seeing Ian Somerholder?.....I decided to show up sober and you were in the bathtub with him naked.” She lifts a brow at me and I take gulp

"I'll catch you inside." At this time, I'm guessing one drink isn't so bad. I promised Jonathan. No more drinking. Two weeks sober so far, I wonder what it'll take to break. "Nick! Nick! Nick! Nick!" A bunch of guys chanting my brother's name enthusiastically might do it. He's crouched, kneeling, lips parted as they fit a tube of drink, and turns the lid on. It sputters on his face as he struggles to down it all. Never mind.