Page 42 of If You Were Mine (After We Fall 3)
Immediately I felt like shit.
Don’t be a dick. They’re not your family. It’s not your house. You don’t even want a wife, let alone kids or a home. How the hell would you make that work, anyway? What if you got caught in a scam and sent back to jail? How do you think your family would feel about you then?
I braced two hands on the frame of my SUV and took a few slow, deep breaths, trying to get my head on straight.
But I didn’t feel right in my skin.
* * *
Inside the house, I put the groceries away in the kitchen—my earlier excitement about baking with the girls had been snuffed out—and set up the tree stand in the corner of the front room.
Josie shushed the excited kids. “Daddy’s still sleeping,” she said, putting a finger to her lips.
I kept quiet as I hauled the tree inside and fixed it in the stand, thinking it should be Aaron doing this for his family and not me. Aaron wondering if his pregnant wife had made her doctor appointment yet. Aaron asking how Peyton’s ears were and if the medicine had worked.
“Yes. She’s better.” My sister-in-law lowered her voice. “And I haven’t made the appointment yet, but I’m going to.”
I frowned but held my tongue. Scolding her wasn’t my place. “Can you hold the tree?”
“Sure.” Josie held the tree steady while I got beneath it to make sure it wouldn’t tip over in the stand.
“Mommy, where are the ornaments?” Ava asked.
“In the basement. Why don’t you go down there and see if you can find the boxes?” she said brightly.
The girls traipsed into the kitchen and down the basement steps, leaving us in silence. When the tree was secure, I got to my feet and glanced toward the closed bedroom
door.
“When?”
“Yesterday.” She still looked tired, but her cheeks were flushed with pink. Her hair had been washed.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “He sober?”
“Yes.”
“He OK?”
Josie nodded. “Looked a little rough when he got in, but he cleaned up. He’s just tired now, but he’s so glad to be home.”
I fought off the anger and tried to focus on the relief. On moving forward. “So what now?”
“He says he’s going to do better. Get a new job.”
“Is he going to go to rehab?”
Her eyes dropped. “We can’t afford that.”
“I’ve told him a thousand times I’d pay for it.”
“He won’t go. He’s too proud.”
“Meetings then. AA. He could get a sponsor.”
“I…I don’t know if he would. He always says he doesn’t need them.”
“You have to tell him that’s the condition, Josie. If he keeps drinking, he’s going to keep doing this.” My voice rose. I didn’t mean to be hard on her, but sobriety was the only hope Aaron had. Without it, he’d never heal enough to take care of his family. I didn’t even want to think about what gutter or cell I’d be in if I hadn’t quit drinking.
