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‘So I went to treatment.’ She smiled and blew her own nose. ‘If ever there was any doubt that I’m meant to be here, meant to be standing in this room, telling my story, I have proof positive that God wants me to be here today,’ she went on. ‘They admitted me to the treatment facility, did all the paperwork, then gave me a room. They shot me full of something to combat any DTs I might go into, they could smell the vodka on me. Anyone tells you ‘oh, you can’t smell vodka’ has obviously never smelled someone that’s been drinking vodka for three days straight!’ She nodded in gratitude to the chairperson when a fresh cup of coffee appeared on the podium. ‘They left the room and I went into anabolic shock from whatever they shot me with,’ Robin continued. ‘One of the patients had heard that there was a new girl and came into my room to tell me ‘hi’ and saw me turning blue and going into convulsions and ran and screamed for help. To this day, I have no idea who it was that saved my life, I. I thought… I thought things were going well. But tonight… I could see it in your face. You looked at me differently. I just knew.’ ‘Guess, Steven. Make it a wild guess, if you have to. Can you think of nothing?’ ‘Well… I never thought you’d be the superficial type, but I know I’m not the best-looking guy out there…’ ‘Nice try, Steven.’ I replied sarcastically. ‘Try again. You know me better than that, I think.’ I smiled to soften the blow a little. Steven had the grace to look sheepish at that. ‘I swear, Sarah. I have no idea. I’ve been wondering that all evening. I was trying to think if we ever fought, or if I was dumb enough to hurt you in some way…’ The hurt look returned, and his voice trailed off. ‘Look. Sarah. I’m really not ready to deal with this at five in the morning. I need to have all my wits about me, if I’m going to have to deal with a rejection.’ ‘Okay, Steven. You win. Take me home? I’ll need the crutches out of my car…’ I was lying in bed, later that morning, after.
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