Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
ALLEY
THEN
The comfort of Leo’s kitchen feels grounding compared to the chaos I just came from. He’s making me a cappuccino. The smell of coffee fills the air, and the quiet sound of him moving around is the first thing that’s felt normal in weeks.
After my fight with Jensen, I went to Matt’s.
I slept in one of his guest rooms and caught an 8:00 a.m. flight to Chicago.
So much for figuring things out with work—or giving Leo time to prepare.
I texted him late last night and asked if I could come in the morning.
I called my boss first thing and took the next few days off. I told her it was a family emergency.
It’s 11:00 a.m. now, and I’m exhausted. I didn’t sleep at all last night. I just kept replaying everything in my head. The things he said. The things he didn’t. The way he chose his backpack over me. The way he didn’t stop me. Didn’t say anything. Didn’t fight.
I left.
I had a suitcase, and he just… watched me leave.
My heart feels shattered. Like it’s been split into a million pieces. And I don’t know if it’ll ever be whole again.
Leo doesn’t say anything as he works the espresso machine, giving me space. I’m sure that showing up on his doorstep ten minutes ago, sunglasses on, bloodshot eyes, tear-streaked face, wasn’t what he expected. It’s obvious that I’m not okay.
I still haven’t told anyone in Chicago, not even Michael. Because how embarrassing is that? Hey, you know how dad was an alcoholic and I knew all the signs? Yeah—somehow I ended up in the same situation Mom was in.
Leo sets the cappuccino in front of me, then leans back against the opposite counter, arms crossed. He studies me quietly, assessing, feeling out the situation. “Do you want to be left alone?” he asks, cautiously, one eyebrow cocked.
“No,” I say softly.
He nods, then says, “Do you want to tell me why you don’t want Michael to know you’re here?”
I force myself to look at him. “No,” I whisper.
A Mickey Mouse song plays behind me on the TV. Leo glances toward the living room, where Isla’s singing along, shouting the lyrics the best she can.
He puffs out a laugh, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
I peek over my shoulder, then turn back to Leo—and the look in his eyes breaks me.
It’s like every hope and dream I ever had with Jensen comes tumbling down all at once.
Every wall I’ve built to block out the pain and denial crumbles, hitting me like a ton of bricks.
I let out a sob and then gasp for air. Leo’s arms wrap around me in an instant, pulling me up from the stool.
He hugs me tight, and I cry for everything I thought I’d have—a future with Jensen, kids, a family. For the man I believed would be the best dad in the world. He’s so good with kids. They love him. For everything I’ve lost, and for who we’ve become—a sliver of who we once were.
I soak Leo’s shirt, trembling in his arms. He rubs my back and tells me it’s okay, to let it all out.
God, this is embarrassing. He doesn’t even know why I’m upset.
I finally pull back, swiping at my eyes with both index fingers. “Sorry.” I manage, my voice shaky.
“Don’t be sorry, love. I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to come here.” He scrubs a hand over his chin. “You know, you’re the closest thing I have to a sister. I’ve always felt like you filled that space for me after I moved here. Filled the void Chloe left when she died.”
Chloe is Leo’s twin sister. She died from Leukemia when they were seventeen.
He looks at me, steady. “You’re family, Alley. Whether you talk or not. Stay as long as you like. Whatever you need.”
I nod, choking out, “Thanks. I want to talk. I need your advice and your perspective.”
“You have my undivided attention.”
We move to the table, where he can still keep an eye on Isla but give me his full focus, and I tell him everything.
He listens, occasionally asking a question—soft, steady, patient.
There’s no judgment. No telling me what I should or shouldn’t do. That’s not his role. And while I know this isn’t a therapy session, he’d never take me as a patient anyway, it’s comforting to talk to someone who gets it. Who gets me.
Who won’t hate Jensen.
When I finally finish, Leo leans back in his chair, dragging a hand over his face.
He exhales sharply. “Fuck. I’m so sorry, Alley.”
“What do I do?”
He chuckles softly. “You know I can’t tell you what to do—whether to stay or leave. I can’t do that. But I will say this… your pain is real. And you can still love someone and decide they’re not good for you right now. What’s your gut telling you?”
“I’m not sure,” I say, staring at my hands on the table.
I force myself to meet his eyes. His expression is kind and understanding.
“I’m not ready to give up yet. But I can’t—” The words catch in my throat.
“I can’t do this anymore. It’s slowly killing me.
I’m not fun anymore. I barely laugh. The joy’s been completely sucked out of me. ”
Leo’s voice is quiet. “What do you miss the most?”
“I don’t know. Just… us. Me with Jensen.
Being able to do nothing at home and still feel totally satisfied and happy.
Before, my cup was always overflowing because it was so full.
” I laugh softly, tears clinging to my lashes.
“It sounds stupid, but we could literally be doing nothing and laugh our asses off. You know?”
He nods with a sad smile. “Oh, I know exactly what you mean.”
“I used to be so excited to see him at the end of the workday.” I wipe at my nose with a tissue. “Sometimes I think it would be easier if he were cheating on me, or hurting me. If he made me hate him. At least then I’d have a reason to walk away that made sense to everyone, including me.”
Leo stays silent, letting me speak.
“But this?” I gesture helplessly. “He’s sick.
He didn’t ask for this. And I keep telling myself I can’t leave someone in their worst moment.
I can’t abandon him the way my dad abandoned my mom when she was dying…
You know what I thought the other day?” I pause, debating whether I should say it out loud.
Leo gestures for me to go on, and somehow, I know he won’t judge me.
“I actually thought to myself… I wish I’d just get a call that he overdosed, so I wouldn’t have to deal with this anymore.
I wouldn’t have a choice. I could still love him…
and not have to leave him.” A sob bursts out of me, and I shake my head.
“God, what kind of person thinks that? It’s so selfish.
” I try to breathe through it the best I can.
“I don’t really want that. I would never want that.
I love him so much. I just… it’s so hard. ”
Leo’s voice stays calm and steady. “You’re not awful, Alley.
You’re human. And the mind does some pretty crazy shit to protect us.
It’s normal to think that, considering what you’re dealing with.
It’s not Jensen you want gone, it’s the addict inside him.
You want him back. You love him. That’s obvious. Don’t beat yourself up.”
I cry so hard now I can’t even look at him. I can’t speak. I can’t do anything but cry.
And I’m so tired of crying.
I nod. I know he’s right, but it doesn’t make me feel better.
Those thoughts… they’re part of what I hate most about this.
They’re not me. The good in me feels lost, buried somewhere deep inside.
The part that used to trust easily, forgive quickly, and see the best in people—that part of me is gone.
Now I’m the cynical wife who wishes her addict husband wouldn’t come home, just so I don’t have to deal with all his problems anymore. It’s such a mess—a mess that’s spilled into every part of our lives and touched everyone around us. Everything Jensen touches is affected by his addiction.
Leo lets me cry for a while before he speaks again. “Have you thought about what staying would look like?”
“Yes.”
“And what does that look like?” he nudges, patient as ever.
“It looks like hell… if he doesn’t get clean.” I pause. “And hard if he does.” I grab another tissue from the box Leo set out earlier, my pile embarrassingly high. “But eventually, I know we’d find our way back. Maybe we’d even be stronger. Better. Is it ignorant of me to think that?”
Leo frowns. “Not at all. That actually sounds realistic. You’re not denying it’ll be hard. You’re not romanticizing it either.” He hesitates this time. “And what would it look like if you left?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I don’t know. I can’t get past the part where I’d have nowhere to live.” I open my eyes again, my voice small. “And even when I do picture myself moving out, I don’t see myself any happier than I am now. It looks like hell too. Hard. Sad.” I pause. “Lonely.”
“You’re right. It probably would look like that…
for a while,” he says quietly. “But time’s the one thing that always passes.
That’s guaranteed. And with it, things get easier.
Not right away, but eventually.” He pauses, watching me carefully.
“You’d figure it out. You’d be okay. You’d find joy again.
The pain might still be there sometimes, but it won’t rule you.
I know that firsthand.” He exhales slowly.
“Eventually, other things get bigger. Life gets louder. The grief is still real, but it becomes more of a memory. A sad one, yeah, but memories only carry the weight we give them. Over time, they get lighter. They just become part of the story.”
I swallow hard, my eyes burning. “But I don’t want him to be a memory. I don’t want to live a life without him in it.”
The door downstairs opens and closes, followed by footsteps on the stairs. Vivian walks into the kitchen moments later, giving us a quick once-over before smiling. “Hi, Alley!”
I wipe my face and force a smile. “Hi, Vivian.”