leave. They weren’t happy, but they’re letting me return next season. I have some meetings close by and on Skype. Besides, I needed to wrap things with the apartment.”
“Right.” The thought of him leaving, of not seeing him again, stole my breath and threatened to send a fresh wave of tears.
The streets were dark and abandoned, and the time on the dash read four fifteen in the morning. We’d not been off the highway long, the silence strangling, when Aiden pulled over onto the side of the road.
He hit the hazards, then turned to me, hard gaze unwavering. “What are you doing, Stevie?”
My mouth opened and closed, my heart pounding.
“With him. Yeah, you love him, I get it.” The words were pained, slicing between his teeth. “But I know you love me too, and this can’t keep happening. You’re having a baby, for Christ’s sake.”
My voice was hollow. “I know.”
“Leave him. You don’t even need to leave him for me, just…” A noise of frustration echoed through the car, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’s no good for you.”
“He’s been okay,” I said, feeling sick that I needed to defend Everett. That I needed to defend him to Aiden of all people. “He was doing okay, but I don’t know… I don’t know what happened.”
“There doesn’t need to be a reason. If he wants to drink, he’ll find any reason. That’s what addicts do.”
“That’s not fair.” But he was right. He was right, and I hated it. Hated that I knew it before he’d even said anything, and now he was unearthing it, bringing that knowledge into the light.
And now that it was out, I could no longer bury it. I couldn’t act like none of this was happening and that everything would be okay.
“What’s not fair is bringing a child into this world with an addict for a parent.” The pain in his eyes, the conviction in his soft voice, slammed me in the chest.
And I knew then, he wasn’t just saying this for me. He was saying it for him. “Is this about me anymore?”
He sat back, the tense stance he’d taken deflating. “It is. My mom has nothing to do with this.”
“She does. And I agree with you, Aiden, I really do, but it feels like giving up.”
“On him? Or on some fucked-up dream you’ve harbored for years?”
“Are we ever supposed to give up on our dreams?” The words whispered out of me, and I winced as they reached his ears and caused his features to ice.
“If they only end up hurting you, then yeah, you give them the hell up.” He flicked the hazards off, but I grabbed his arm before he could put the car in drive.
“I’m sorry.”
He recoiled, and I pulled my hand back. “You can’t stay there with him.”
“He’s probably asleep.” At least, I hoped he was. Weary, I sank back into the seat. Hating the way we’d just left him, I felt a kaleidoscope of conflicted feelings for the broken man inside my bathroom. Mostly betrayal, worry, and anger.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
I wasn’t sure he heard me when I whispered, “Because I don’t know the answer.”
He put the car in drive, then pulled out onto the moon-glazed road.
That ache twisted deep as I watched Aiden from the kitchen window, and he finally drove away.
He’d told me to call him if I needed help, but that was it. With a million things I wanted to say, but having no room and no right to say any of them, I’d just thanked him, collected the towel and my purse, then climbed out of the car.
I picked up the glass I’d left earlier, draining the contents while I tried to think about what I needed to do first.
Everett’s snores traveled down the hall, and though I knew there was probably a huge mess to clean up, exhaustion urged me to bed. Where I stared at his sleeping face, the peace that’d settled over it, until the darkness took me too.
I woke to a blazing sun, its heat curling the hair around my forehead, and Everett’s palm sticky on my hip. Lying on my back, I felt his hand sweep over my stomach, then stop.
And then I heard it.
The near silent sound of rasping breaths heaving out of him, and wet beads falling to my skin.
My hand reached for his hair, fingers resting over the tangled strands. “He’s okay.”
His tears came harder, and then his arm curled around my waist, his face