Searching for Disaster by Jennifer Probst

wondered if he should just walk out the door. Maybe this had been a terrible idea and she really didn’t want to see him again. But hell if he’d back off now when he needed to find his own answers. His frown matched hers. “Don’t want to keep my distance. I’ve thought about you these past years. How are you doing?”
    Ice chilled her eyes. He knew he had made a mistake from the way she squeezed herself tighter as if to ward off an attack. “Oh, I get it,” she said softly. “You want to confirm all of your ideas about me came true. You want to know you made the right decision by walking away from me.”
    â€œIsabella—”
    â€œNo, I understand why you came here. Let me give you the short version. I took the coke after you left. Then I took more the next day. This continued with greater frequency, which you don’t need to know, until I found myself without family, friends, or an ability to live. I finally checked into rehab, did my work, and now I’m clean and sober.” She smiled tightly. “So you see, Liam, you were right about everything. Now that we’ve strolled down memory lane, I’d like you to leave.”
    â€œFuck. I didn’t mean—I’m not talking about that shit! I hate that it happened to you, but I’m not here to judge or gloat over being right. I didn’t want to be right! I’m here because the woman I spent the night with was special, and I want to get to know her again.”
    Her muscles relaxed slightly. “That night was special to me, too,” she said softly. “But there can’t be anything between us anymore, Liam. We’re too different.” Her small laugh was humorless. “I knew it when I met you. You were heading toward greatness. You’re a police officer, just like you dreamed. And you were right to warn me about the drugs, but I couldn’t hear you then. I was too trapped within my own stuff.”
    â€œBut you’re clean now,” he pointed out. “You faced your demons. I just want some time with you. Don’t we owe ourselves that after the way we left things?”
    â€œNo. We owe ourselves the truth. We’d never be good together.”
    â€œYou won’t even give me a chance?”
    Her eyes held not only a touch of sadness but a banked fire that snapped with ferocity. “I’m not even thirty years old and I don’t feel comfortable in a bar. Or at a party where everyone’s drinking. I go to meetings on a monthly basis, and I have a mentor I still regularly check in with. Every day, I wake up and tell myself I’m not going to drink or use. Every night, I almost weep with gratitude that I stayed clean. Is that the type of girlfriend you want? I have more baggage and issues than you could possibly imagine. You think that’ll be fun for you?”
    Her words pegged him like jagged glass splitting skin. The truth shone in her face, the acceptance of what she’d experienced and the new path she walked. She was right. He could have an easy woman, one who clung to his arm and accompanied him to social events, who drank beer with him while he played pool, who he never had to worry about or doubt.
    Problem was, that woman wasn’t Isabella. A woman he’d spent one too-short evening with. A woman whose last name he didn’t even know.
    His entire life had been about achieving goals and reasonable expectations. From his grades to mentoring his younger brother to making his parents proud. He was precise, controlled, and liked things neat. Police work called to his sense of justice and righting the imbalances of life.
    But he’d found something else about himself throughout the years. People were messy. So was life. He’d arrested criminals who broke the letter of the law but who he could easily understand. They had difficult backgrounds. Made wrong choices. Screwed up. He’d realized imperfection had a rough beauty