The Life That Mattered (Life #1)(82)

I kneeled on the floor in front of her, grabbing a tissue and wiping her face. “I’m not leaving you,” I whispered.

“You check into treatment, tomorrow.”

“Evie …” I continued to shake my head. She was overreacting.

“You check into treatment, tomorrow.”

“I’ll taper off. I can do it on my own.”

“You check into treatment, tomorrow.” Every time she repeated that line, her words lost emotion, like she was losing any sort of feeling, shutting down, and putting up this indestructible wall around her heart.

I fucking hated it. Where had my wife gone? The woman who looked at me like I was her king? “Please … just listen to me.” I squeezed her hands. “This isn’t a prob—”

“Over 70,000 people die every year from opioid overdose, including really well-educated—well informed—healthcare professionals like doctors, nurses, and paramedics. You check into treatment … tomorrow.”

“Give me a week … just a week.” I rested my forehead on her shoulder. “Please … one week.”

“You check in for treatment, tomorrow … or you move out of my house.”

I sat up, shaking my head over and over. I didn’t hear her right. There was no way a few pills could end our marriage. Before I could try harder to make my case, the pilot announced we would be landing in Denver soon. I knew Lila and Graham would be waiting for us the second we stepped off the plane.

Flowers.

Balloons.

Presents.

They planned a luxury ride to her surprise party with all her favorite foods and lots of champagne—champagne I was clearly not going to drink.

I hated lying to my wife. And I hated that she mistook truths for lies. I didn’t have a problem. I wasn’t addicted to drugs. There was no reason to check into treatment. But … it was her birthday. I needed to salvage what I could of it before a misunderstanding ruined the whole thing. So … I lied.

“Tomorrow, I check in for treatment.” I forced a smile and wiped the rest of the mascara from her cheeks.

Her body melted on a long sigh as she pressed her palms to my face and rested her forehead against mine. “Thank you,” she whispered.

After she fixed her makeup, we slipped on our coats and I took her hand, leading her off the plane.

“Surprise!” Lila held up her arms, both hands holding balloons as part of her body poked out of the moonroof of the limousine.

I laughed, knowing it was the best she could do with a broken leg.

A red rug stretched from the plane’s stairs all the way to the limo where Graham stood in a tux holding a huge bouquet of roses. I released her hand, assuming she would run toward them, eager to leave behind her drug addicted husband. Instead, she turned her back to them to face me. Throwing her arms around my neck, she hugged me like she did the morning she first found the oxy in my jacket.

Emotion stung my eyes as my heart fell hard like a boulder tumbling down the side of a mountain. “You’re my favorite everything, Roe,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

All I could do was nod in reply to keep from crying like a fucking baby in front of our friends. For a moment, I realized I didn’t deserve her love. And that scared me to death.

She released me, took my hand, and tugged me toward the limo.

“Hey, old lady.” Graham smirked as she walked into his arms.

I tried not to read into her smile, wondering if she smiled bigger for Graham, but I couldn’t help it. For the first time in over five years of marriage, I felt like we weren’t invincible. And that hurt worse than any pain I tried to numb with medication.

“Roses …” She took them from Graham and sniffed them. “My favorite.”

He stepped aside so she could climb into the limo. “Did you have a pleasant flight?” Graham patted me on the shoulder and smirked.

I returned a stiff smile. No. I didn’t nail Evelyn to the leather seat in the plane. She nailed me to the cross and informed me my only salvation involved checking into treatment for a disease I didn’t have. Could he read all of that from my smile? Doubtful.

Lila and Evelyn giggled as they tried to maneuver Lila and the balloons back into the limo.

“Screw it.” Lila let go of the balloons, sending them into the air.

“Brilliant, babe. We’ll probably get fined for releasing balloons into the air at an airport.” Graham grabbed her waist to guide her back into the seat as she lifted her casted leg, propping it up on the seat between Evelyn and the door.

Evelyn rested the long-stemmed roses on her lap and grabbed my hand. It felt like a fucking lifeline. She had no way of knowing just how emasculating it was to have her give me that ultimatum on the plane.

“Are you tipsy already?” Evelyn cocked her head at Lila.

“No.” Lila jerked her head back, but at the same time she fell into a fit of giggles. “Maybe.” She grabbed a bottle of champagne and poured a glass, miraculously without spilling it, and handed it to Evelyn. “For you, birthday girl.”

Evelyn took a sip. “Thank you.”

“And for you.” Lila handed me a glass.

“Thank you.” I took it, feeling the full weight of Evelyn’s gaze on me, further emasculating me.

“Your dress, dear.” Graham frowned, covering Lila’s lap with his jacket.