I’m pregnant.That’s why I’ve been sick to my stomach. I just thought it was because of everything that has been going on, but then I realized I was late, so I took a test.
I don’t know how it happened. I’ve been on birth control the entire time, and I never missed a pill. But we never used a condom.
I place my hand over my face and take a deep breath. I’m going to do this on my own. All by myself. If I had a choice, I’d have him right beside me, but he’s not ready. Not for me or a baby.
Sitting up, I spot a folded piece of paper on the bed. I open it, and my hands shake.
My beautiful April,
I’m sorry I had to go. I’m going to get the help I need. I’m sorry I wasn’t big enough to do it on my own. It took you entering my life to show me that I needed it. I’ve failed you. And it kills me to know that I hurt you. I don’t expect you to wait on me, but just know that you’re all I want. I love you and our baby more than anything in this world. I’m going to be a man and prove it to you.
The words become blurry, and I sniff. I hear the door open, but I don’t look up. I read the letter again to understand what he’s saying. But when I feel a hand on my shoulder, I lose it. I cry.
“It’s okay,” Emilee says. “You have us. We’re here for you.”
“Yeah, we’re not going anywhere,” Jasmine adds before she rubs my back.
“He left,” I manage to get out between sobs.
“He’ll be back. For you and the baby,” Haven says.
He went to rehab. He did what he needed to do for us. And I couldn’t be prouder of him.
THIRTY-NINE
GRAVE
ISIT IN an uncomfortable chair in the center of a room with seven other people. It’s group therapy time.
I hate this shit!
It’s not because I haven’t had a hit or a sip of alcohol in three weeks. I don’t miss the high at all. It’s because I miss April. I thought I knew what addiction was. I didn’t, but I do now.
It’s a fucking hole in my chest. I can’t sleep at night. I can’t function during the day. She consumes me more than any drug ever did, and it feels like a weight on my chest that I can’t remove.
It has nothing to do with sex. And everything to do with her voice, her smell, the way she smiles. I wonder if she’s okay. Is the baby okay?
I’m like a hamster running on a wheel, getting nowhere.
“Grave?”
“Hmm?” I look up to see Jess’s warm smile. She runs this show. “Would you like to share?”
Fuck no!“What is it we’re sharing?” I ask, trying not to think of April and what she’s doing. I know the Kings are looking outfor her, but that’s not enough. They can’t be there twenty-four seven like I could.
“Whatever you feel comfortable with,” the brunette adds. She’s got to be in her mid-thirties. If I saw her on the streets, I would say her brown hair and dark eyes are attractive. But in here, I find her cheerful smile and bubbly attitude annoying as shit.
I sit back and rake a hand through my hair. “Well… I once partied for a solid two weeks,” I offer.
The guy by the name of Jenson snorts from beside me. This place is not your average rehab center. Harbor Heights caters to the rich. The only thing I could compare it to is a country club.
“And?” she asks.
“And what?” I shrug.
“What did you take from that experience?” Jess asks.
“To always make sure your plane has fuel before takeoff.”
