I broke my sobriety.
I had a drink.
Champagne.
God, I can’t believe that champagne is what I broke my sobriety with. That stuff was disgustingly sweet. I swipe my tongue around my mouth, trying to dispel the liquid there, but there is no use. I’m going to taste the disgusting sweetness judging me forever.
I should have said something, but I didn’t feel like I had a choice. The way Oaklee was looking at me with a vengeance. She knows why I don’t drink; I’m a recovering alcoholic. She knows I run a freaking recovery center for goodness sakes. But she blames me for Boden’s actions.
Maybe she has a right to—I’m Boden’s best friend after all. I should have said something. Put a stop to his idiocy, or told him to call off the wedding.
But I didn’t.
Although, I didn’t do what she’s
