ALLEY
Five Weeks Later
I takea deep breath as Jensen pulls into his parents’ driveway. Knots twist in my stomach, nausea rising. I haven’t spoken to Christy in months, and when I did…
Well, I’m not proud of what I said.
Jensen throws the car in park, unclicks his seatbelt, and reaches for the door.
I don’t move.
He lets go of the handle, sits back, and drops his hand to my thigh, giving it a squeeze. “You okay?”
“No.” I take in a shaky breath. “I’m nervous. Your mom has to hate me. There’s no way she doesn’t. Not after the things I said and how I left it.”
His lips press together. “She doesn’t hate you. She made mistakes. You made mistakes. Don’t let this hold you back anymore. You used to love my mom. You guys were so close.”
“I know. It’s just…” Tears spring to my eyes, and I swipe at them fast. “God, I don’t know why I’m so emotional.” My bottom lip quivers, and I hate not feeling in control right now. SeeingChristy again is a big deal. “I just feel stupid, you know? I lashed out at her.” I shake my head hard. “And I’ve been so stubborn. Like—I get it. My mom did the same shit for my dad that Christy did for you.Idid the same shit with my dad. For years, I did.”
He leans across the console and kisses me—warm, tender—replacing the fear inside me with the calm that always comes with him. Then he takes my hand, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles. “It’s water under the bridge, babe. Just talk to her.” His eyes lock on mine, earnest, steady. “She’s not mad. Promise.”
“Okay,” I whisper, nodding, trying to reassure myself. “Let’s go then.”
I push the door open and step out. We pass Megan and Kevin’s car on the way in, and Amber and Jeff’s is parked next to the curb. Thank God, we’re not the first ones here.
“Where’s Matt?” I ask, tugging my jacket tighter as we round the walkway to the porch.
“He had a meeting. He’ll be here in a bit.”
Jensen pushes the front door open, and I step inside. The smell of garlic and roasted chicken wafts down the hall. Grace, the oldest grandchild, is sprawled out on a sofa staring at her phone. She looks up, eyes going wide.
“Alley!” She springs to her feet and throws her arms around me.
“Hi, beautiful girl,” I say through laughter. “It’s so good to see you.” I pull back, grinning. “Look at you. When did you get taller than me?”
She smiles. “Your hair’s longer. It’s so pretty.”
“Thank you,” I say.
She gives Jensen a quick hug, then slumps back into her chair.
We walk through the foyer into the back of the house where everyone’s scattered. Jeff, Kevin, and Tom are at the table. Amber and Megan are chopping and stirring alongside Christy.
“Hey, guys,” Amber calls out.
Nerves creep up my throat as Christy looks up. She smiles, sets the knife down on the cutting board, and comes straight at me, arms wide. “Alley!” She pulls me into a hug, squeezing like I never left. “It’s so good to have you here.” Her perfume, the softness of her sweater, the warmth of her arms—it steals the breath right out of me. My arms circle her back, hesitant at first. Suddenly, being held by the only mom I have left hits me hard, and all my stubborn pride feels so petty.God, she was dealing with the same shit I was.
Addiction.
Only it was her son and not her husband.
We all deal with it differently. There’s no right or wrong way. It’s sink or swim, and she tried to swim with Jensen. Tried to keep him afloat. Tried to save him. That’s part of it too—the codependency, the enabling.
My grip tightens automatically, and my voice catches as I manage, “Thank you. It’s good to be here.”
She lets me go and moves to Jensen, giving him a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. “I hope you’re both hungry.” Then, to him, “I made plenty of gluten-free options. I know you have dietary restrictions now.”
“You didn’t have to do that, Mom.”
