Alcohol You Later (67)

“Yeah,” he says, pulling me back by the arm. His face falls. “You should know he’s been drinking.”

Tears prick the backs of my eyes. “Of course he has,” I say, my jaw clenching tight. “Thanks for the warning.”

My anger multiplies on the short trek to the bus. In my mind, I rehearse all the things I’m going to say. All the ways I’m going to lay into his ass for taking off when I needed him most—when his child needed him most. For breaking his sobriety the first fucking time things got hard.

But all of it flies right out the window the instant I step onto that bus and see him staring off into space, with red-rimmed eyes and a glass of whiskey clutched in his hand.

My heart lurches in my chest. The desire to wrap his motionless body into my arms and soothe his pain overwhelms me.

Out of respect for our privacy, the rest of the crew quietly dip out, leaving me alone to face Nick and his demons.

I realize in this moment of fragility that it will always be Nick and his demons. To love him is to love all of him—the good and the bad, and every fracture etched on his soul. His trauma didn’t just pack up and leave the moment we decided to be a couple or when he learned he was a father. Nor did it disappear when he took the steps to get sober. Change that drastic doesn’t happen overnight. There’s no magic fix for the shit this man has been through. That he wound up here and not in a bar somewhere is progress. And it isn’t fair of me to expect more than that.

“Nick?” I rasp, willing him with my whole heart to respond.

Sweet relief pours over me when at the sound of my voice, the fog seems to lift. His head rotates in my direction. The sound of his despondent voice nearly brings me to my knees. “Hey, pretty girl.” His lips curl up at one end. “Told you I wasn’t going far.”

I grunt, stalking across the room to stand before him. “You’ve been here the whole time?”

“I—” He stops to think. “Yeah. Mostly. I walked around for a bit, and this is where I ended up.”

I nod, swallowing hard. The sight of the glass of amber liquid clutched in his hand triggering me. “And I guess the liquor poured itself and jumped down your throat?”

A soft chuckle bubbles up from his throat. “I deserved that.”

“Ya think?” I sigh, taking a long step forward to stand between his parted legs, staring down into his weary eyes.

“I didn’t drink it.” He sets the glass down hard on the table.

He must see the doubt in my face, because he offers to let me smell his breath.

“I have no reason not to believe you,” I say, realizing it’s true. “You’ve never lied to me.”

“I wanted to,” he confesses, shaking his head in disappointment. “I wanted a drink more than I ever remember wanting one before.”

“But you didn’t do it.”

“No.” With a sigh, he shoves it across the table.

The sound of glass crashing to the floor makes me jump. “That’s good, Nick.” I comb a hand through his hair. “You did good.”

“Is it, though?” he asks, his eyes narrowed, and brow dipped in confusion. “Because I don’t want to feel this, Ray.”

“But she’s okay.” I crouch before him, resting a comforting hand on his knee. “Nick, she’s fine.”

His eyes bore into mine, jaw ticking. “But I can’t keep them,” he rasps, with fresh tears welling in his eyes. “And I don’t know how to let them go.”

“Of course you can keep them,” I say, climbing into his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck. I hold him close, kissing his neck. I feel his pain like a dagger in my heart—a raw and throbbing ache. “Listen to me,” I say, bringing my hands to either side of his face, stroking my thumbs over his stubble. “What happened earlier was a freak accident. Things like that happen to parents every single day. It could happen with the grandparents. It could have happened with me.”

He shakes his head, not buying it.

“Kids are slippery and sneaky, and sometimes shit just happens.” I widen my eyes when the perfect example comes to mind. “I had a four-year-old student break his leg on the playground last year, under my supervision.”

“But you didn’t push him.”

“And you didn’t throw her.”

“No,” he says, considering my words.

“I won’t let you give up on them.”

His features relax slightly. It’s almost as if he was waiting for me to make the decision for him, because he didn’t trust himself to do it. “Just wanna give them a better life than I had, you know?”

“You already are, just by loving them.” My heart climbs in my throat. “And nobody loves the way you do, Nicholas.” Smiling, I bring a hand to my chest. “Trust me, I know.”

“I can’t do it by myself.” He gnaws on his lip, staring up at me with desperation in his eyes.

“You don’t have to.” I press a salty kiss to his lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise me,” he whispers, clutching my chin and running the pad of his thumb over my mouth. “Promise that no matter what happens between us, you’ll never leave them.”

I rear back. “As if I could leave any of you.”