NIKOLAI
My thumb hovers over the message from Dr. Chen, Maya's primary therapist at the rehabilitation facility. The words blur together as I read them a second time, trying to reconcile what I'm seeing with what I expected. Ninety days. Maya completed the full intensive program. Every session attended. Every drug test passed. The staff recommends transitioning to outpatient treatment.
Which means releasing her back into the world. Back into Aria's life. Back into our lives.
I glance at my wife, watching her face as she studies the ruins of her kitchen. The afternoon light catches in her dark hair, and even four months pregnant with exhaustion pulling at her features, she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. The curve of her stomach beneath her sweater makes something primal surge through my chest. Mine. Both of them are mine to protect.
"What is it?" Her voice cuts through my thoughts, steady despite the fear I can see lurking in her dark eyes.
I turn the phone so she can read the message. Her hand flies to her mouth, and I watch hope and terror war across her features in equal measure. She's been waiting for this news, dreading it, preparing herself for disappointment that might never come.
"She finished the program." The words come out rough, my accent thickening with emotions I'm still learning to name. "Dr. Chen says she's ready for outpatient treatment."
Aria's fingers tremble as she takes my phone, reading the message herself like she doesn't trust my interpretation. "Ninety days. She actually did it."
"The question is whether we let her out." I keep my voice neutral, giving her space to process without my opinion coloring her reaction. "Dr. Chen recommends it, but the final decision is ours."
Her dark eyes meet mine, and I see the questions she's not asking.What do you think? Can we trust her? Will she break my heart again?
"I need to see her." Aria's voice is barely above a whisper. "I need to look her in the eye and know if this is real."
I nod once, already pulling out my phone to arrange the visit.
The drive to the facility passes in tense silence. Aria's hand grips my thigh with enough force that I can feel each individual finger through my jeans. The pressure grounds me, reminds me that this decision affects her more than anyone. Maya is her sister, her responsibility, her burden to carry since she was seventeen years old.
The facility sits on ten acres of manicured grounds, all modern architecture and carefully maintained gardens designed to lookpeaceful rather than institutional. My money paid for this place, for the private room and specialized treatment that gave Maya her best chance at recovery. I don't regret the expense, but I do wonder if it was enough.
Dr. Chen meets us in the lobby, a woman in her fifties with kind eyes and the kind of calm that comes from years of dealing with addicts and their families. She shakes my hand first, then Aria's, her gaze lingering on my wife's stomach with professional assessment.
"How are you feeling?" she asks Aria.
"Nervous." My wife's honesty surprises me. "Hopeful. Terrified."
"All normal reactions." Dr. Chen gestures toward a hallway lined with windows overlooking the gardens. "Maya has made remarkable progress. She's engaged in therapy, honest about her struggles, and committed to her recovery in ways I rarely see."
"What changed?" I ask, my hand finding the small of Aria's back.
"She hit bottom." Dr. Chen's voice is matter-of-fact. "Real bottom, not the kind addicts pretend to hit while still holding onto escape routes. She lost her sister's trust, nearly got you both killed, and had to face the consequences of her choices without drugs to numb the pain."
We reach a private meeting room, and Dr. Chen pauses with her hand on the door. "I'll give you privacy, but I'll be right outside if you need me."
The door opens, and Maya stands from a chair near the window.
I barely recognize her.
The hollow-cheeked addict who betrayed us has been replaced by someone who looks almost healthy. Her cheeks have filled out, color returning to skin that was gray with withdrawal. Her eyes are clear, no longer pinpricks or dilated with chemicals. She's gained weight in a way that suggests proper nutrition rather than bloating, and her hair shines with cleanliness I haven't seen in years.
But it's her expression that catches me off guard. Genuine fear mixed with hope, vulnerability without the manipulation I've learned to recognize.
"Aria." Maya's voice breaks on her sister's name, and tears stream down her face before she can stop them.
Aria moves across the room like she's being pulled by invisible strings, and the sisters collide in an embrace that makes my chest constrict. I position myself near the door, giving them space while remaining alert for any signs of the manipulation Maya has perfected over the years.
"I'm so sorry." Maya's words are muffled against Aria's shoulder. "I'm so fucking sorry for everything."
They sink onto the sofa together, still holding each other, and I watch my wife's shoulders shake with sobs she's been holding back for months. The sound makes my hands curl into fists at my sides, protective instinct warring with the knowledge that this is something they need to work through without my interference.
Maya pulls back first, wiping at her face with trembling hands. "I need to say this before I lose my nerve." She takes a shaky breath. "I betrayed you. I put you and your baby in danger because I was too weak to face my addiction. I've been jealousof your strength for years, resenting you for being everything I couldn't be."
