Tragic Love (BOOK 2)

by Brannon, M.

  “Okay, Presley, just look at the picture and tell me exactly what comes to your mind. Don’t hold it in, just let it out.”

  I push the button on the top of the phone and light up the screen. When I swipe my finger to unlock the screen, my world starts to spin and feelings I’ve never allowed myself to feel begin to surface.

  There, on the cell phone, is a happy, little baby with dark brown, curly hair, her daddy’s perfect smile and dimples. The sparkle in her brown eyes resembles my own back when I was happy, and I see the most beautiful creature staring back at me. Tears well up in my eyes as I finally look at the baby I’ve denied for the last seven months. The innocent little girl who I shut out because I was too afraid to deal with everything I was holding inside.

  I am overwhelmed. No words can escape my mouth. Deep down, I knew if I really allowed myself to look at her I would completely fall into her dark brown pools. “Tell us, Presley. What are you feeling?” Dr. Garner says, breaking my thoughts.

  I look up from the picture only for a moment to meet Drake’s eyes then I look back down to Mia’s chocolate colored eyes. “Love, I feel love.”

  Chapter 17

  Drake

  My heart is pounding so fucking hard against my ribs I feel like I’m on crack. Presley is staring at the picture of Mia—I mean, really staring at the picture and the look on her face gives nothing away. The anticipation is killing me. This entire day went from indescribably perfect to a pile of shit in the matter of a few hours. This whole situation couldn’t possible get any worse for me. If Presley looks at Mia’s picture and feels nothing a mother is born to feel for their child, I will be forced to make a choice.

  How is a man supposed to choose between the woman he loves and his child? For all our sakes, I hope it never comes down to that. In this impossible situation, if I’m forced to make that decision, I will break the promise I gave to Presley only hours before. Mia is my daughter and there is no way in hell I would ever abandon her. She belongs to me. She will always belong to me. Forever.

  Every unanswered truth is clinging in the air, hovering over our heads and ripping me to smithereens. Her eyes meet mine. What the fuck was that look? I’m burning her with the intensity of my stare and then she says, “Love. I feel love.”

  I can’t control myself. I jump from the couch and yank Presley into my arms. The phone falls to the floor, causing the screen to crack, but I don’t give a fuck. She’s said the best words I ever wanted to hear.

  Presley secures her arms around my neck and sobs. For the first time in possibly her entire life, she finally sees what in life is worth living for; the cheerful smile and brown eyes staring back at her. Mia is the very embodiment of the reason why Presley needs to get up and brush off the old wounds of her past. Mia is love. Mia is life. Now, finally, after months of torturing herself, Presley finally sees that and we can go on living our future together.

  I hold onto her until Dr. Garner clears his throat, breaking up our embrace. When I sit down I don’t let her go, instead, I pull her onto my lap and hold her as tightly as I can. Saying thank you repeatedly in my head that she said she feels love. This has been the most grueling four hours I’ve ever experienced. In that short amount of time, I’ve managed to run through every catalog of feelings a million times over and I am physically drained of all energy. There is absolutely nothing left to give because everything is gone. Exhausted. Spent. Done.

  “That was an impressive session and I can see why the both of you are so connected. Not many couples can face troubles of this magnitude and leave feeling better than when you came in. I see you both are in tune with each other’s emotions, but now we need to work on expressing those emotions versus bottling them up.”

  He turns his attention directly to Presley and his tone shifts to fatherly. “Regardless of how painful you may think the feeling could be to Drake, it’s not as damaging as it is when you hold those feeling inside. Tell him. Talk to him. Because from what I’ve seen today, this man will do anything to help you. Don’t be afraid to accept that help.”

  The doctor shifts his gaze back to me and says, “Drake, I will reach out to you if another family session is needed and I understand the drive is a long one, so we might want to have you on the phone if you’re unable to make the trip.” Dr. Garner stands and stretches his arms above his head. The exhaustion is showing on his eyes as it is on mine and Presley’s.

  “Now, I have two requests for you, Drake, and then we can wrap up for today. First, I want you to write Presley a letter. Saying anything your heart desires. You could write about significant moments you’ve shared together, your feelings surrounding those particular moments, and so on. Then, when you feel the time is right, share the letter with her. This is a good exercise to keep the path of communication open and it also allows Presley to learn how to process what you’re telling her and to utilize her newly acquired coping techniques. Second, I want you to do something for yourself. There are many programs available to help the family of an addict. The programs teaches loved ones how to cope with the unique dynamic supporting an addict in recovery and teach you how you can support yourself through these tough times.” Dr. Garner hands me a couple of pamphlets for twelve-step programs in the Sulfur Heights area. “Nar-Anon is an excellent program, I’ve referred many patients there and I strongly encourage you to sign up. You need to get support too, Drake. These programs are meant to make both of you successful in Presley’s recovery.”

  I think hard about what Dr. Garner has said today. I know I need help dealing with Presley’s issues and I want to support her anyway I can. I study the pamphlet for Nar-Anon then store it in my pocket. I will call them once when we get home. Then there’s the letter. What the hell would I say? We’ve had so many significant moments in the last three years that I’m not sure where I would start, but that is for another day. Right now, my mind needs to shut off and I only want to feel her body in my arms.

  ***

  I stay in the lounge area, holding Presley in my arms. Nurse Ratched approaches us and says she will call security if I don’t make my way to the door in the next ten minutes. Rolling my eyes at her, I decide once I see security then I will leave, but until then, she can piss off.

  We’ve barely spoken a single word since we’ve left our session with Dr. Garner. There is nothing left for us to say. Nothing left for our brains to process. The day has been intense and we can’t say another word.

  Snuggled in my lap, Presley asks to see my phone and begins scrolling through pictures. She starts with the picture of Mia I took before Jake and I came to Memphis. As she scrolls through each image, it becomes a digital reminder of what she has missed over the last seven months. Pictures of Mia fill my phone’s gallery, each one taking Presley back further in time.

  I savor having Presley in my arms and it almost kills me to think about having to leave, knowing we only have a few short minutes left. We stand from the couch once I hear the nurse on the phone with security. The small, black box in my pocket is pressing into my leg, but I want her to have the necklace before I leave. It’s important that she knows even though I’m not here physically, I’m always with her as she lives in my heart.

  I pull the black velvet box from my pocket, holding it up for Presley. “I got this for you. Open it.” Presley instantly tears up and slowly opens the lid, showcasing the necklace. “I know how hard it’s been these last two months and I can’t imagine what you’ve had to endure while you’ve been here, but I want you to know how much I love you. Whenever you’re feeling the world is becoming too much to bear, look at this and know I believe in you.” Pulling the necklace from the box, I fasten it behind her neck. The pendent dangles low on her chest, the tip of the heart resting on the small swell of her breasts, exactly where I want it—my heart touching hers. “Every time you feel like you want to give up and give in, remember my heart is right here, loving you, needing you.” I kiss her lips, not out of lust, but out of reassurance to Presley, reminding her tha
t she’s right where she’s meant to be. In my arms, against my lips and living in my heart.

  “It’s time to go, sir,” the overweight guard says to me as he opens the door to the parking lot. I ignore him and press my lips harder against hers. I don’t want her to forget how much I love her. “Sir, it’s time to go.”

  “I love you so much, Drake. Thank you for the necklace. I promise, I’ll never forget,” Presley says between the movements of our lips.

  I break our kiss then move toward the door, keeping her fingers firmly entwined with mine. Her skin is soft and tender against my calloused hands and it’s killing me to let her go. The guard is standing over us, growing impatient.

  I place a final kiss to her lips then I whisper, “You’re worth loving, Presley. Every second, every minute and every hour of my life, you will always be worth loving.”

  ***

  It felt like we were on the road for days when we drove home from Memphis. Jake was quieter than he’s ever been since I can remember, and in a complete dick mood. He refused to stay over in the hotel before we left which resulted in me getting no sleep and driving seemed impossible. The entire fourteen hour trip, he spoke ten words and when I mentioned Delilah, I was awarded a heated glare. I have no idea what happened after they left rehab together and I don’t recall ever seeing Jake this angry in my life. They’ve always had a hot and cold relationship, so I chalk this up to a cold moment. They’ll be back on before we know it.

  When I finally pull in the driveway, it is eleven in the morning. I’ve been awake for almost two days, only taking a few short hours to sleep on the drive home. It was either let Jake drive or crash into the ditch. We pull our bags from the backseat and Jake walks to the garage after noticing Jeremy working under the hood of his Challenger.

  I walk to the stairs, trudging up every step until I walk into the kitchen. The last two days have ground me into the floor, and right now, I’m too exhausted to pull myself up. My body feels like I’ve worked the heavy bag for ten consecutive hours and my eyes lids are filled with lead, however the worst part is the weight bearing down on my chest. After seeing Presley, holding her in my arms and learning about her true inner feelings, my heart has filled and emptied so many times I’m surprised it’s still pumping at all.

  I open the fridge and pull the orange juice container from the shelf without even bothering with a glass and gulp down the liquid. I really wish it was Jack I was chugging down now, but now is not the time or place for that shit.

  “That’s really fucking rude, Drake,” Darcie says as she rounds the corner, holding a very happy Mia in her arms. I place the juice back into the fridge and walk over to my beautiful baby.

  She looks perfect. Cheeks slightly flushed, the brown curls of her hair bouncing down her neck and the biggest smile lights up her face. She recognizes me immediately and starts to lean away from Darcie, arms stretched out to me.

  I take Mia in my arms and pepper her cheeks in kisses. God, I’ve missed this little angel. She is giggling, babbling and slapping my shoulder with excitement. Absolutely precious. Perfect.

  Keeping my tone light, I say, “You know if my daughter’s first word is a curse word, I’m holding you and Jake responsible. Even Reggie holds his tongue when she’s around.”

  “Well, you know me, and if she does end up saying a curse word first, I’d blame Jake. He’s worse than me,” she says, giving Mia a light tap to her bottom. “So how was it? How’s she doing?”

  “I almost didn’t recognize her. She looks stunning.” I close my eyes as I remember seeing Presley for the first time yesterday. Her skin was radiant and glowing, eyes sparkling and smiling a true, genuine smile. “She’s still got some work to do, but she is doing much better.”

  Darcie starts nervously, rubbing her thumb across the scar on her wrist, trying to find the right words to say. “Did…did she talk about Robert?”

  “Yes. We spent a long time talking about him and her time she spent with him.” Drudging up those old nightmares was painful, although not near as horrifying as it was for Presley. It was the worse time of her life and there she was finally facing it after three years of battling it inside herself. I’ve got to give her credit, that girl is stronger than I ever imagined. Having to battle with her nightmares everyday for three years all because she was too scared to say anything, all the while trying to function as a normal human being. I would have never been able to do that.

  Darcie’s eyes are stabbing into mine and her jaw is tense. Reggie is her lifeline, like Presley’s mine. If he were to leave, I don’t know how she would function. “So? What did she say about it?”

  “It’s fine. She was very worried at first, about talking about how he died, but never mentioned Reggie and what he did. She told the doctor what he would find if he researched it himself.”

  Darcie releases a big breath and a single tear at the same time. We are all relieved nothing is going to happen to Reggie and I’m relieved Presley can finally start to heal from Robert. I know it won’t be easy, but little by little, she will come around because she’s strong and has all our support to help her get better.

  Mia is resting her head on my shoulder as I sway side to side, rocking her to sleep. Once Darcie tells me she is out, I walk back to my room and carefully lie down in my bed, keeping my sleeping baby on my chest. Right now, she is the only piece of Presley I can hold and it feels impossible to let her go. Not when my heart is as raw as it is.

  ***

  After a couple days I’ve finally managed to find my much needed routine. Work on Monday was exhausting and I only spent a few hours in the cab of the crane before I was sent home. Normally, I would have done anything around the plant to get a few more hours in, but after this weekend’s roller coaster of events, I was completely spent. Reggie asked me to work a couple of nights at the bar so he could get a night off and I was happy to do it. I keep trudging through the weeks, living each day one at a time. Thirty days feels like an eternity, but in the grand scheme of things, thirty days is nothing compared to the rest of my life.

  Presley

  Week Nine:

  Dr. Garner is relentless this week, not letting up once, and I’m feeling the sessions are too much right now. My heart is so exposed and aching from Drake’s absence. I answer his questions, talk about all the shit he wants me to talk about, but I’m not vested in this week at all. I simply want to go back to my room and miss Drake in private.

  It’s been a sad week for me. My desire to use is not there and my thoughts of Robert are dormant for the time being. The days are sad because I can still feel Drake’s hands on my skin. The loss is unbearable. I knew I really missed him when I came here, but now I’ve had a small glimpse of him and I feel like half of me is missing.

  The necklace he gave me warms the skin of my chest as I feel his love with me. Several times today, I’ve run my fingers over the heart-shaped pendant, reminding myself that he’s here with me.

  I replayed our last moment together over and over in my head and I can’t even begin to explain how meaningful his last words were to me. You’re worth loving. It makes me smile. It makes me actually feel worth something. Drake makes me feel worthy of love. I love him. I love you, Drake Evans.

  Week Ten:

  My eyes are swollen from crying. Mia was the hot topic of the week and now that I’ve finally allowed myself to see the baby girl I love, it is killing me what kind of mother I’ve been. Before, my sick head was validating every single detached emotion I created, justifying it, making it okay. I can’t believe I used to not want her. I wanted to kill her because of my own selfish need.

  This pain is much worse than anything I’ve had to deal with and I want to use right now. I don’t want to feel the pain of denying my child love, but I know I need to feel this pain. I deserve it. However, I’ve come to realize all the coping techniques Dr. Garner and I have been working on all these weeks is starting to work. I’m figuring out how to deal with my disappointment and depression.
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  Mia and Drake are my everything and I refuse to let my inner demons take over again. I won’t miss any more of her life. I don’t ever want to see Drake’s eyes look so broken ever again. Survive. Survive. Survive. For Drake. For Mia. I need to survive! I have two more weeks left in this place and I won’t waste them. I will keep myself engaged in my treatment, participate more in group and hold onto the people needing me to survive on the outside.

  Week Eleven:

  When I woke up the other day, I dreaded to even pull the covers down from body. I didn’t want to face it all again. I had no patience to listen to people in group therapy, nothing left to give in my one-on-one session with Dr. Garner. I was ready to give up, but like he was feeling it, too, Drake’s voice came through over the phone and it gave me the strength once again to hang on. I held his heart between the pads of my fingers for hours, holding onto him for dear life.

  Then Mia’s cooing passed through the receiver and I knew this was not the time to give up. I can never give up. Not ever. These two people are the reason I need to survive every single day.

  When I initially started treatment, I didn’t want to speak to Drake on the phone, read his letters or see his face knowing how hard it would be to manage without him. As harsh as it sounds, I’m so glad he respected my wishes. Since the time with Robert, I’ve been using someone or something to take all the pain away instead of figuring out how to do that myself. I knew I would be addicted to his voice, and if I missed a single phone call,I would’ve been back to square one;needle in my arm and high as a fucking kite. Now, when I talk to him, I am happy. I can’t believe I wrote that down. I’M HAPPY!!!

  Week Twelve:

  Delilah and I have made arrangements to drive back together. She finished with her finals early and told her parents she would be back in time for Thanksgiving. I’m glad she will have a couple of days with us and rather surprised her parents are not throwing more of a stink, considering the fund raiser her mother has every Thanksgiving at their country club.