A few minutes later, I stumble outside and manage to get a cab.
It’s only ten minutes. Only ten more minutes,I repeat as I stare at the coke in my hands. I’m this close to pouring a line onto my jeans and sniffing it in the backseat.
We pull up to my building, and I practically roll out of the taxi.
Suddenly, I’ve changed my mind. I’m not strong enough. I can’t do this. I’m seven floors away from relief. As I approach my elevator I picture Alley again. But this time I picture her looking at me on the floor, covered in vomit, and I veer to the left—to the private elevator.
“Hey, Mikey,” I say, barely able to think straight. I’m a mess. My shirt’s drenched, and I know I look like hell. “Matt home?”
“He is...” He hesitates, like he’s deciding whether he can trust me or not—like Matt’s told him not to.
It stings.
“Is he expecting you?”
“Jesus. Come on, man. You know me. Just let me up.” My hand opens and closes again, and I can’t make eye contact. My head’s a buzzing mess.
He calls up to Matt instead. My patience is running thin, and I feel myself giving in. I don’t even hear what he says to Matt. I’m too focused on keeping my shit together—on not punching Mikey in the face.
Alley. Just think of her face. Think of her eyes when she looks at me.
Matt’s voice finally comes through, bringing me back. “Let him up.” I let his words pull me into the elevator. They wrap around me as I ascend with a flicker of hope. He hasn’t given up on me. Not completely. Not yet.
The doors open, and I lock eyes with Matt. His brows are raised, arms crossed, already bracing for whatever bullshit I’m about to dish out.
I step into the penthouse. “I want her back,” I say, my voice cracking like a fucking twelve-year-old boy. “Please… help me get her back.”
Matt stares me down as I drag a hand through my hair. “I need help. For real this time. I’m done. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Yeah?” he asks. “Are we just not going to talk about the last time you were here? When you fucking swung at me?”
“I didn’t mean it, man. You know I didn’t mean it. I lost her.” I fall back against the elevator doors, the sturdy steel barely holding me up. My head tips back as I take a shaky breath. “I lost her. I fucking lost my wife.” My eyes flutter closed, and a tear slides down my cheek.
I swallow the lump in my throat, feeling Matt’s gaze on me. Then his hands grip my shoulders, steadying me.
I open my eyes, vision blurred from emotion and fear.
He’s silent for too long, and panic strikes.I’m too late.He’s given up on me too. There’s no hope.
Then his face softens, and finally he says, “I’ll help you. Of course I’ll help you.”
I collapse, sliding to the floor. Sobs break out of me, and my body shakes as I crumble.
This is it.
Rock bottom.
I’m not sure what took me so long—to realize I lost her. To admit I’m no longer the kind of man she can love. But I can’t go on knowing that.
So I fix one image in my mind, and one image only.
My wife.
Alley.
Chapter One
JENSEN
