As intimate as they’d been, Sam didn’t know when Percocet had changed from her diversion into her addiction. Kayden had successfully hidden that from him.
Little by little, the pills sucked the perfection from their relationship. Kayden began to lose things. At first little things, like her sunglasses. Then her memory of the appointments on her calendar. Then a few of her friendships. Then her entire existence came to revolve around pills—how to get them and the taking of them.
He asked her to quit. She said she would.
She didn’t.
He came home from work one night and called her name. No answer, even though he’d seen her Jeep in its parking spot. An episode ofDance Academyplayed on TV. He walked closer to the TV in search of the remote, so that he could turn it off, and the patch of rug in front of the sofa became visible. Kayden was there. She was having a seizure.
Blind fear consumed him. He knelt beside her. Helpless and panicking, he phoned for an ambulance.
Later, the doctor informed him that she’d mixed Percocet with alcohol and overdosed. Once they’d stabilized her health, she’d gone directly to a rehab center.
He’d slept alone in their flat. Ate alone. Moved through life alone while she was in treatment. Their circle of two had been broken, and he’d counted the hours until she returned to him.
But the day he’d arrived at the center to bring her home, she’d been a pale and withdrawn version of her former self.
A few weeks later, when searching for positive things to replace what the pills had been to her, she’d informed him that she wanted to go to church. Eager to support her, they’d attended a church service held in an old, renovated building. The band rocked. The pastors and members were welcoming and around their age.
He looked over at her during one of the songs. Her braided blond hair shone under the light. Her profile was wildly beautiful. Her hands, raised, palms up. Her smile peaceful.
His hope expanded. He wanted so badly for church, foranything, to keep her from a relapse.
Kayden grasped onto God immediately. He, the more cautious of them, needed time to consider the things the pastor taught.
They had long, deep conversations about death and souls and whether their existence on the planet could be accidental or had to have been purposed. They read books by scientists and theologians and philosophers and—at the end of all that—decided that the evidence against God was far harder to accept than the evidence for God.
A friend from church explained what faith required, and he and Kayden prayed for salvation. They attended church on Sundays and small group meetings weekly.
He’d gone to that original service because it’s what Kayden had wanted. Yet slowly faith had changed Sam’s heart. Many—but not all—of his behaviors shifted.
At one point their small group leader, who’d become a friend, expressed concern over the fact that he and Kayden were still living together, despite their unmarried state. It seemed to Sam that his friend had stepped way over the line, and Sam responded with defensiveness. He had no intention of changing their living situation, and he didn’t want Christians judging him and Kayden or trying to take away their freedom. He loved Kayden too much to change. For the first time in his life, he had a place. He filled his head with proof that justified his own rightness. Kayden neededhim in order to have a chance at recovery. Practically, it made no sense to pay for two separate apartments. Living together was convenient, comfortable. It’s what kept their relationship strong. They weren’t hurting anyone.
They parted from their small group but continued to attend church. Then, all of a sudden, Kayden’s company was sold and the employees let go. Kayden couldn’t find another job. The sorrow and stress of that, coupled with the difficulty of staying clean, covered her with depression. In order to bounce back, she reached for Percocet.
All the hard-won progress she’d made—destroyed.
Her ability to function again began to crumble.
She went through detox at home. He nursed her through it.
She reconnected with God. Found work. Found purpose and stability.
Then her grandmother wasted away from cancer. Kayden reached for Percocet to help her through her sadness.
Her ability to function again began to crumble.
He nursed her through detox.
She reconnected with God. Found work. Found purpose and stability.
Then she developed migraines and couldn’t bear them without Percocet.
Sam begged her to return to the rehab facility.
She assured him that she had it under control. She promised that she’d limit herself to just enough Percocet to treat her migraines, so little that he wouldn’t even notice.
Her ability to function began to crumble and—all at once—he couldn’t face going through it again: The worry that came with his role as her caregiver. The belief that she’d stay clean, followed by heartbreak when she fell off the wagon. The fights. The pleading.
