And dammit—neither will divorce papers.
He was right. Nothing’s ever stopped me.
I’ll stay clean. For me.
But I’ll be damned if that means I give up on Alley. I’ll show her how much I’ve changed. I’ll prove it. She just needs to see me.
Fuck the divorce papers.
We’ll find our way back.
Chapter Two
MATT
December
I makemy way up the long, winding roads. It’s beautiful—snow-capped mountain views and trees blanketed in white. I wish I could enjoy it, but I’m not present. My mind’s spinning—thoughts of Jensen, Alley, and the past two years cloud everything. It’s been insane. Never in a million years did I think I’d be picking up Jensen from a rehab facility in fucking Switzerland.
It’s been a rough year. Watching my best friend destroy his life. Getting calls from Alley—hearing her cry, watching her crumble because of him. I’m not a judgmental person by nature, but fuck, there were moments I wanted to pummel his ass. We almost came to blows after she left. He showed up—completely fucked up—asking if I’d talked to her, where she was.
There was no reasoning with him when he was high. And when I didn’t give him what he wanted, he snapped. Shoved me. Accused me of lying. I shoved him back. He swung and missed, and ended up against the wall with my arm pressed to his throat and tears in his eyes.
It wrecked me. We’ve never fought before. Ever. I remember my own eyes burning as I stared into his and didn’t recognize him anymore.
He left after that, and I didn’t see or talk to him again until he showed up two weeks later, pleading for help.
No one ever talks about this shit. How addiction’s like a poison that seeps into every corner of the addict’s life. It stains everyone in their path. Everything they touch. Alley’s taken the brunt of it, that’s for damn sure. I don’t know if anyone comes back from the kind of hell he put her through.
The tires crunch over gravel as I pull up the rehab’s long driveway. I’m excited to see Jensen and to have my best friend back. His counselors say he’s doing great, and when I talked to him last week, he sounded like himself again. He seemed… happy. And knowing that, it feels like I’ve been given an extra tank of air.
I just wish Alley were here with me.
Alley.Definitely not a topic I’m looking forward to. And I know it’s all he’s going to want to talk about.
I haven’t shared much with him since he got here. Only what’s necessary, and only recently, to avoid setting him back.
I texted her before I left yesterday to let her know I was picking him up. She replied with,Thanks for letting me know.That’s it.
What the hell am I supposed to do with that? What am I supposed to tell Jensen?Sorry, man. She doesn’t fucking care?He’s her husband for Christ’s sake.
I shift into park, staring up at the massive building. It looks like a resort. It was impressive three months ago with all the fall colors, but something about it now gives off the impression that if you’re staying here, you’re rich as hell and better take this seriously.
Good. Because it was expensive as fuck.
I open the car door and step into the bitter cold, zipping my coat as I begin the hike from guest parking to the front entrance.
The building’s modern, set high and tucked into the mountain, with way too many damn stairs leading to the door. It wasn’t an easy trek the first time with Jensen. I mean, for fuck’s sake, people coming up these steps are usually fresh out of detox. They barely have the energy to stand, let alone climb a staircase to redemption.
This place required him to be clean when he arrived, so after he came to me broken and desperate—at rock bottom—I sat with him for two weeks, helping him get through it. Detox, withdrawal, all of it. Megan helped out when I had to leave for the occasional meeting I couldn’t afford to reschedule. He didn’t leave mine or Megan’s sight the entire time.
She wasn’t happy about it. And she sure as hell didn’t do it for Jensen. She did it for me and for Alley.
Megan’s pissed at Jensen—empathy’s never been her strongest quality. But I asked her to do it because I knew he wouldn’t pull any shit with her. She can hold her own. Honestly? She’s a little scary sometimes.
I finally reach the entrance and swing open the heavy glass door. I can’t even pronounce the name engraved across it, something that roughly translates to wellness and refuge of Lucerne. It’s the most expensive rehab in Europe, on every list when you Google top rehabs in the world. Their success rate is one of the highest. I didn’t care where it was or how much it cost. Jensen’s like a brother. I’d do anything for him. Period.
I check in at the front desk and take a seat in the lobby while I wait for a counselor to take me back. My mind wanders, and suddenly my palms go clammy and my stomach twists.
