hard to keep my attention on the deck, where Greyson came to stand next to his husband.
“What do you think they’re gonna say?” I whispered.
Vinnie grunted beneath my ear. “Gonna be somethin’ having to do with kids.”
“They’re having kids?”
Another bitter grunt in response.
“Okay, so as most of you know, we’ve been explorin’ our options when it comes to having a family, and well, we decided to have my lovely sister as our surrogate.”
Jenna stood and bowed flamboyantly. Zach chuckled. “Thanks for that, Jen. Anyway, uh, well … I guess in about seven months, we’re gonna be parents.”
Friends and family erupted in a chorus of whoops and cheers for Vinnie’s older brother and his husband. They rushed to the deck, offering hugs and congratulations to the happy couple and squeezed Jenna for her loving sacrifice. Everybody was so happy and excited. Everybody but Vinnie.
He wore an expression of sincere dread. I caught the corners of his mouth trying to smile and show his brother support, but the attempts were feeble.
“Baby, what’s wrong?”
He shook his head and lifted the side of his mouth in a somber half-smile. “I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not.”
Sighing, he pushed a hand through his damp hair. “I’m happy for them, seriously. It’s a great thing. But, I dunno, I guess maybe I’m jealous or some shit.”
Warmth nipped at my heart and ovaries, as I asked, “You want babies?”
He shrugged. “I love kids. I always have. But that shit isn’t in the cards for me. I’m, you know, me. No kid would deserve me as a parent.”
The warmth I’d begun to feel was put out with a brisk chill. “That’s really … final. And sad.”
“That’s life, sweetheart. We make our choices, you know? Zach chose to get his shit together and have a family. I chose to buy some coke after bein’ sober for a long time. Now, our lives are in different places, and there’s no disputing who the fuck-up is.” He winked and tapped a finger to his chest. “Spoiler alert, it’s me.”
I knew he was talking strictly about himself. I knew it wasn’t meant to be a jab at me. But it still felt like a slap to my face, and I displayed as much by shaking my head.
“You didn’t make that choice. You needed it. You can’t help that you’re—”
“Do not say I can’t help that I’m addicted, Andy,” he growled quietly, so nobody would hear. “I did make a choice, and I fuckin’ own it. But you’re right about one thing; I did need it. And right or wrong, that’s the way it is for now. Maybe one day, if I don’t end up dead in a ditch somewhere—”
“Okay, stop,” I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head as the float moved lazily over the water’s surface. “I don’t want to think about that, okay?”
“I’m just speakin’ the truth, sweetheart.”
Choked up, I nodded and blinked rapidly, turning back to him. “I-I know, but …” I pulled in a deep breath, glancing back at the happy crowd on the deck. “I love you. And I can’t think about you not being there, okay? If you die, I’ll die.”
His expression was flat, studying my face for a minute, before saying, “I love you, too. And I’m not goin’ anywhere. I was just sayin’.”
We climbed out of the pool, to congratulate Zach and Greyson, and to tell Jenna to call if she ever needed anything. Then, in somber fashion, we headed upstairs to our room to dry off and fall asleep after a long, emotional night that had ended on a far heavier note than either of us would’ve liked. And all the while, with every move, Vincent stood, watching and waiting.
All I hoped was that he was here to give his son a message and not to take him away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
ANDREA
I used to see the junkies stumbling into the hospital or being wheeled in after an overdose. I would wonder how they got themselves into that situation, and how they could function in the real world while being a slave to a substance. I’d look down on them, with the belief that I was above that sort of lifestyle. Like it could never, ever, in a million years happen to someone like me.
Now, cutting my own lines on our coffee table covered in Chinese food cartons, it occurred to me, with startling clarity, that it had, in fact, happened. Because drug addiction doesn’t care where you’re from, what color your skin is, or how much money you