Chapter 4 - A Chaotic Sequence

˜”*°• Claire •°*”˜

I paused at the entrance of the community center, my heart racing. It was a familiar place, but the anxiety still gripped me every time I walked through those doors. The room carried a distinctive blend of scents – freshly brewed coffee mixed with the clean smell of disinfectant.

Whispers and soft conversations floated through the air as people gathered, clutching their cups of coffee like they were a lifeline.

In the middle of the room, a circle of chairs awaited, each one different from the next – some old, wooden, and worn, while others offered soft cushions. A low table at the center held pamphlets, recovery books, and a box for anonymous contributions.

Stepping further inside, my eyes scanned the diverse group already seated. There were those with wrinkles etched deep into their faces, evidence of the battles they had fought for years. Then, there were younger folks, their expressions a mix of hope and apprehension.

I swallowed hard, mustering a smile as I found an empty chair. The room's occupants turned their gaze toward me, some returning the smile. The tension in my chest began to ease as I settled in, knowing that, in this room, I wasn't alone in my struggle.

One by one everyone got up to share their struggles and their stories. I listened, watched, and even shed a tear or two. I was a very emotional person and sometimes it messes me up.

"Hello, would you like to introduce yourself and share something with us?" The woman, who served as the chairperson, asked, her warm and understanding eyes locked onto mine.

I felt my throat tighten, a mix of anxiety and relief flooding through me. I awkwardly waved at the diverse group of faces that turned their attention towards me. "Hi, everyone," I began, my voice trembling ever so slightly, "I'm Cindy, and I guess I'm here because... well, I'm an addict, but it's not like I'm a hardcore one." My voice steadied as I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. "I mean, I have my sober moments, but lately, it's been a struggle. I've been feeling this pull, this urge to go down that dark path again, and I really don't want to."

The chairperson's warm smile and the supportive nods from the others eased some of my tension. "Welcome, Cindy," she said softly, her tone filled with genuine compassion. "We're genuinely proud of you for taking this step. Remember, we're all here to help each other. Is there anything specific you'd like to share with the group? Anything that's been triggering these urges?"

I could feel my hands growing clammy as I grappled with my emotions. My fingers instinctively intertwined in my lap. I paused, pursing my lips as I struggled to put my feelings into words. "Well," I finally began, "just last week, I did something really stupid, something I deeply regret, and it was all because I was under the influence." A collective understanding seemed to ripple through the room as sympathetic nods and knowing glances met my confession. "It's just... when I'm on drugs, I make these terrible decisions, things I shouldn't be doing."

I looked around before dropping my gaze into my clammy hands, "I ended up traveling to another state just because I thought someone was watching me, and turns out they weren't," I let out an embarrassed laugh as I recalled the memory from his office, "I had never felt more embarrassed in my entire life."

Someone chuckled, a woman who must be in her mid-thirties, "Happens to the best of us, sweetie. I went to my ex's house at three in the morning and serenaded him with a song."

I laughed, releasing some of the tension in my shoulder, "Years ago, someone took me out of a very bad situation, and when I say bad, I mean—really, really horrible. I was messed up, I was forced to take drugs most of the time and I was in a very dark place. That person not only took me out of that situation but he also helped me recover in more than one way."

I closed my eyes as they welled up with tears. It was hard, but I needed to talk about it. This was better. I had to get it off my chest or else I'd go crazy.

"Go on..." the chairperson softly said.

"He took me to rehab, he pushed me to get better, he bought me a house, and even got me a job. He had been my support system forever. And I... I got addicted to him, instead of the drugs, him."

I blinked and a tear rolled down my cheek, I hastily wiped it off before facing everyone with a smile, "And I recently lost him—he's not dead," I laughed, "But I lost him. He is actually now happily married to the love of his life. And don't get me wrong, I'm happy for him. His wife is a sweetheart, the most adorable woman I have ever met and I can see why he fell for her," I shrugged, "Anyone would."

I gave my head a shake and continued, "After his marriage, nothing's the same anymore. He has changed, obviously, and I respect that. He has every right to live his life the way he wants but he has no idea what he means to me and how him being away from me is taking its toll on me. He is all I have known since the day I met him. I really don't know how to live without him, I know I shouldn't depend on anyone like that but I can't help it. His absence has left a void, and when I feel that emptiness, I'm tempted to turn to drugs."

I sighed, my vulnerability on full display as I confessed, "I don't want to burden him with my problems anymore. I want to learn how to live independently. But it's been a struggle, and sometimes, it feels like the only way to fill that void is with drugs. I don't want to... but it's overwhelming, and I don't know how to stop it."

"Thank you for sharing, Cindy. We're here to support each other on this journey, and your honesty is a crucial step. It's completely natural to feel lost when such a significant source of support changes. You're not alone in this struggle, and we'll work together to find healthier ways to cope with these emotions. Remember, taking this step to seek help is a sign of strength, and we're here for you every step of the way. We can assign you a sponsor if that's what you want if you are comfortable with it."

I furrowed my eyebrows, "A sponsor?"

"It's someone you can talk to when you're feeling the urge to give up. It has helped a lot of people. A sponsor can act as your new support system."

I nodded, "Yes, I'd like that."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

When I got home from my meeting, I saw Allegra Mancini sitting on the stoop stairs of my home. She was using her cell phone when I walked up to her.

"Allegra?" I called out.

She looked up, her eyes sparkling with delight. Quickly standing up, she came over and enveloped me in a warm hug, to which I responded immediately. Maybe, I needed a hug.

"What are you doing here?"

She gave me a sheepish smile, "I'm sorry for showing up like this unannounced but after your text last week, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I felt bad for not coming over when you reached out for company. So, here I am."

I nodded, remembering how Scott told me that Allegra always thought about others first, "And Scott's okay with this?"

She furrowed her brow, puzzled. "Why wouldn't he be?"

I had a hunch that Scott might not appreciate me hanging out with his gentle and kind-hearted wife. He saw me as a mess, and Allegra was far too precious for him to associate with someone like me. "I mean, did he give you his blessing to visit me?"

Allegra arched an eyebrow, her expression determined. "Blessing? In our household, the only one who needs permission for anything is Scott."

I chuckled at the thought. It was hard to picture Scott taking orders from anyone but himself. "Really?"

"Absolutely," she affirmed with a smile, then held up a basket. "And I brought snacks."

Grinning, I unlocked the door, and we both entered. We kicked off our heels and made ourselves at home.

"I really like your new hair, it's giving off a cotton candy vibe," she commented.

I couldn't help but run my fingers through the ends of my hair, "Thanks."

She leaned in, her eyes bright with curiosity, "Do you think I should dye my hair too?"

I couldn't hold back a laugh, "Hmm, probably not, your husband might kill me for it."

She sat on the living room couch, folding her legs underneath herself, "For dying my hair?"

I gave my head a shake, slumping beside her as we both dug into her snack basket, "No, he might think I might be a bad influence on you."

I scoffed, "I'm not a child and you're not a bad influence. I really like you."

I raised an eyebrow, casting her a sideway glance, "Even after what happened?" I referred to her catching me on top of her husband.

She offered a warm smile, "Especially after what happened. You know, there aren't many women out there I can trust around my husband, ones who won't throw themselves at him without regard for the fact that he's married."

A pang of guilt pricked at my conscience. I had feelings for her husband, and they had lingered for quite some time, even before Allegra entered the picture. But now, it was time to learn how to let go.

"Where is your husband anyway?"

"Oh, he is at a meeting."

"What meeting?"

She turned to me with a grin, "Promise not to say a word to anyone because what I am about to tell you is the big secret that most people don't know yet. Only the inner circle knows."

I perked up, "Now I'm intrigued, what is it? And I swear on my life that I won't tell anyone."

She nodded, lowering her voice, "He's at a meeting right now with Salvatore and Vincenzo Capone."

My heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. Our last encounter played through my mind for the second time today.

"And?"

Her smile widened, "And they might be renegotiating the terms of their peace agreement. I can't believe that it's finally going to be peace between the Cosa Nostra and the Outfit. It's a really big step for us and the Outfit."

I managed to give her a hesitant smile in return, "Yeah, that's... that's amazing."

I don't think I can stand looking at that bastard's face again after how he humiliated me last time.

I changed the topic completely after that. Not talking about the Outfit at all or its arrogant, cold boss.

Allegra and I decided to have a cozy movie night at my place. We gathered our favorite snacks - popcorn, candy, and even some chocolate-covered strawberries because why not?

Allegra and I couldn't help but giggle as we settled on the couch, our bowls of popcorn nestled in our laps. The chick flick marathon was in full swing.

Allegra leaned over to me, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "So, Cindy, do you have a favorite chick flick?"

I grinned, ready to divulge my guilty pleasures. "Oh, where do I start? I'm a sucker for the classics. 'Pretty Woman,' 'Dirty Dancing,' and 'The Notebook' are my top picks. How about you?"

Allegra chuckled, "I can't resist a good rom-com like 'Notting Hill' or 'When Harry Met Sally.' And, of course, 'The Devil Wears Prada' for some fashion inspiration after my husband had told me a hundred times that he hates my fashion sense and that I dress like a nun."

I nodded, laughing. "Yes, 'The Devil Wears Prada' is fantastic! Meryl Streep is iconic in that role. But you can't forget the heart-wrenching ones like 'A Walk to Remember' or 'Titanic.' They always bring on the tears."

Allegra nodded, "Oh, 'A Walk to Remember' gets me every time. And 'Titanic'—such a classic tragedy."

As the movie played on, we couldn't help but comment on the characters' choices, their fashion, and, of course, the romantic moments. It felt like we were a part of our very own chick flick.

Allegra chuckled at my comment about the heroine stupidly sending the hero away at night instead of fucking his brains out, "I think you secretly dream of being the star of one of these movies."

I playfully gasped, placing a hand over my heart. "You've figured me out! I've always wanted my life to be a romantic comedy."

"So, when's your big meet-cute moment with the handsome stranger happening?"

I pretended to think, but suddenly that night flashed before my eyes when Vincenzo Capone shot bullets from between my legs, I shook the thought away, "Hmm, maybe it'll happen when I'm buying a latte at the local coffee shop, and he accidentally spills his coffee all over me."

She burst into laughter, "Classic rom-com move right there. And then you'll both reach for the same napkin, your eyes will meet, and bam – true love!"

I joined in the laughter, "Exactly! And then, we'll have a grand adventure filled with quirky side characters and misadventures. You can be a side character in my story. You can play my annoying best friend."

She raised an eyebrow, and flung a throw pillow at me, "And what about your grand romantic gesture? Every good chick flick needs one."

I grinned, "Oh, I'll confess my love in front of a crowd, probably at a big family gathering or a wedding. It'll be so heartfelt that everyone will applaud and cry."

Later that night, we just lounged in my living room until we heard excessive ringing of the doorbell. Startled we both got our feet and I pushed Allegra behind me as I opened the door only to find Scott, standing outside.

"Ray told me you were here," he voiced the second I opened the door and his eyes fell on Allegra.

He made no pretense of small talk or pleasantries as he moved me aside, his sole focus on reaching his wife. Hastily, he enveloped her in his arms. A whispered exchange passed between them, and then it happened—the kind of kiss that spoke volumes. It was passionate, filled with longing, as if they had been apart for an eternity.

I couldn't help but look away, a twinge of envy gnawing at my heart. Not envy for their love, but for the depth of emotion they shared. It was a stark contrast to the emptiness that had settled into my life.

He had never kissed me like this, heck, he had never kissed anyone like he is kissing his wife. They belonged with one another...

"You know I can't sleep without you," I heard him say as I stared down at my feet, not wanting to ruin their moment, "Come on, let's go home."

Allegra nodded, smiling at both of us, "Let me just go get my stuff."

Once Scott and I were left alone in the hallway, he finally gave me attention, "Hey, stranger, how are things?"

I forced a brave smile, "Everything is good, amazing!"

He put his hands in his pockets leaning against the wall, "You know if you still need anything, I'm here. Allegra doesn't mind, she knows everything."

I gave my head a shake, "Scott, I'm more than fine. Don't you worry about me? You know if I needed anything, I wouldn't hesitate to call, I'm shameless like that," I grinned.

He laughed and the next second, Allegra came back out and joined her husband. We said our goodbyes before they left, I closed the door, locked it, and then leaned against it for a few minutes.

The loneliness that had become my constant companion settled in once more, a heavy weight on my shoulders.

I knew what I had to do. I went over back into the living room. My hand shook as it hovered over a drawer. Inside, a box that held the answer to my struggles. It was like a trap I could fall into.

I closed my eyes, torn between my darkness and a tiny bit of hope. The room felt tense like it understood my struggle. The tiny baggie held my temporary salvation.

My fingers trembled slightly as I prepared the substance, knowing full well what I was doing. But the craving was too strong, the need to escape too compelling to resist.

And the next thing I knew, I ended up doing what I promised myself I wouldn't do anymore.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and then the world around me started to shift. Colors became more vibrant, and my senses seemed to heighten. There was a surreal quality to everything, as if I had stepped into a dream.

A warm wave of euphoria washed over me, erasing my worries and fears. It felt like I was floating on a cloud, weightless and free. For a moment, the pain of reality was gone, replaced by an overwhelming sense of pleasure.

The moments that followed blurred into a hazy memory, a chaotic sequence of actions that played out like a distant dream.

I fumbled to dress myself, the fabric slipping through my intoxicated fingers. My makeup became a messy, colorful canvas, the mirror reflecting a face distorted by the drug coursing through my veins.

Leaving the house, I stumbled into an Uber, barely able to tell him my destination. The Cosa Nostra's nightclub, its neon lights dancing in erratic patterns that matched the chaos in my mind.

Inside, I surrendered to the pounding music, letting it guide my movements as I danced recklessly, lost in the pulsating rhythm. In the dim, smoky haze, I met a nice stranger, he was probably not nice, he was probably a criminal but I didn't care.

Drinks flowed like water, numbing my senses further. I followed him to his place, consumed by a desperate need for distraction. Ended up on his bed, riding him like a cowgirl, my moans and screams echoing through the room.

Morning brought a harsh awakening. I lay disheveled on the floor, my stomach churning with regret. Nausea overtook me, and I puked violently, the remnants of my poor decisions spilling out.

Clumsily, I wore my dress, my movements sluggish and graceless. I fled the dirty stranger's home, escaping before he could wake up.

Now back in my own place, I sat in a daze, staring at the invitation card before me.

It was an invitation to a party, an event that symbolized the beginning of a new era, a fragile peace between two powerful factions—The Cosa Nostra and The Chicago Outfit.

Fuck my life!