Jeanie
“You know you will never really heal until you come to terms with your past.” Gabe squeezed my hand. “Come on, Jeanie, you know the steps better than I do. I'm preaching to the choir.”
Our conversation was paused as the waiter came to deposit two hot, fresh steaming plates in front of us. It smelled amazing, but I found my appetite for food had left the building on the heels of my parents.
I knew he was right if our positions were reversed I’d be giving him the same advice. “It’s hard to make amends to a dead person,” I muttered.
“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing all along?” Gabe asked, rubbing the rough pads of his fingers over my knuckles.
I watched the motion of his fingers caressing my hand, mesmerized. “What do you mean?”
“You got clean. Now you’ve made it your life’s pu
