Again.
I turned my head and came face to face with an angel. My whole life was standing in the doorway with nothing but disgust and disappointment in her eyes. Then it hit me…
The cause was lying in bed limply holding a needle in his hand.
Me.
Again.
Briggs didn’t have to look down at my arm to know, my eyes always told her the truth.
“Four years, Austin. Four fucking years,” she said her voice breaking. “Why? Of all things why did you have to use that one? Or any of them?”
I took in her distress before I simply stated, “I wanted to see her.”
She immediately put her hand over her mouth, fervently shaking her head back and forth.
“That’s not fair! You cannot play that card every goddamn time life throws you a fucking curve ball.”
“It’s the truth.”
Tears streamed down her beautiful face, and I resisted the urge to comfort her. Too caught up in my own misery.
“I’m hurting too, Austin. You know the real fucked-up part is that I knew this was going to happen. The minute you lifted the sheets and saw the blood. I couldn’t contemplate what was going on because I was too fucking worried about you. How is that fair to me? I can’t mourn the death of our baby because of you!”
I watched each one of her tears fall down the sides of her face, one right after the other. Playing out in slow motion, absorbing into the wooden floor below.
“I’m sorr—”
“Stop, right there. I know exactly what you’re going to say. ‘I’m sorry, Briggs, I’m so fucking sorry.’ Am I right? Did I hit the nail on the head, Austin?”
“Baby, I really am so fucking sorry.”
She visibly cringed at my apology, and I knew why. I hadn’t said that to her in so damn long. It even felt foreign coming from my lips.
“I promise I won’t do it again. I swear to you. I just needed something to take away the pain. Something to cloud my mind from what was going on. It was a one-time thing. Look.” I showed her the needle in my hand. “No more left. I only got enough for one time. I won’t put you through this again. I can’t.”
“Austin, this is the same story, just a different time. How can I—”
“I don’t lie to you. I’ve never lied to you.”
She took a deep breath unsure with how to respond. I got up and went to her. Backing her against the wall, caging her in with my arms. Her eyes instantly went to my forearm where I had used. I lowered it, grabbing her chin to look at me instead.
We locked eyes even though I knew it was the last place she wanted to focus on right now.
“Four years, Briggs. Four fucking years. Trust me. I made a mistake. I know that. You know that…” I let go of her chin and kissed along her face. “Where’s my girl? Where’s my Daisy? Hmm...”
I could feel her melting against my touch.
“I love you more than anything. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I promise.”
I kissed along her lips, beckoning them to open for me.
They did.
She let me in just like I knew she would. I kissed her with everything I had, wanting her to feel my apology. To feel my undying love for her. My hand went to the nook of her neck pulling her closer as my tongue assaulted hers. She let out a soft moan and pulled away, breaking our connection. I pecked her lips a few more times, moving down her neck and back up to her lips, kissing her one last time.
“You can’t do this to me again,” she murmured against my lips. “Please, I can’t—”
I gazed deep into her eyes. “Shhh… I’m sorry. I love you. I made a mistake. I promise I’ll call my sponsor. I’ll tell him what happened. I’ll go to more meetings. I won’t do this to you again. Please believe me.”
Without a word she looked at me one last time, turned and left. I let her go because it was the right thing to do. Even though it felt so fucking wrong. The damage was already done. There was no going back.
Only forward.
Chapter 34
<>Austin<>
It had been a year since Briggs miscarried our baby. So much had fucking changed, nothing in our lives was the same after that day. I worked all the time, leaving Briggs alone a lot. It was easier to get lost in my art than it was to face reality. At first she used to come in with me and work, both of us needing the distraction, but as the months passed, the less frequent her hours became.
She usually just worked a few hours a week and hired Mason, Lucas’s son and Alex’s stepson to work the front desk on the weekends and after school. He was fifteen and a punk ass kid who reminded me a lot of Lucas at that age. A smartass mouth that would get him in trouble one day and stubborn as shit.
“Hey, Mom,” Mason announced as Alex walked through the door.
“Mason… your dad is going to kill you. Your report card—”
“Because he loved school so much? I want to go into the military. I don’t need school to be a Marine.”