19. Eric
Chapter nineteen
Eric
I sit in the private lounge at Denver International Airport, my phone gripped tightly in my hand as I stare at the screen. The website for the rehab center in Vegas glares back at me, the words swimming in front of my eyes. Sunrise Rehabilitation Center.
The name of the place seems so… ordinary. For something that feels like it’s going to change my entire life, I thought it would feel more significant. But it’s just a rehab center. Just a building in a city full of them. And yet, it could be the place where my mom works. The mom I’ve spent my entire life thinking was dead. The mom who abandoned me. The mom I’ve only known through the lies my grandparents told me.
I swallow hard, my throat tight. I should be relieved. I should feel… something other than this tangled mess of emotions. But all I feel is confusion. And anger. And the deep, gnawing ache of abandonment that I’ve carried for as long as I can remember.
I scroll down the page, staring at the staff directory. There she is— Linda Davids, Counselor. Either she is working under her maiden name or a fake name… or she and my dad never married, another lie my grandparents told me. I sigh. It all feels so unfair.
Linda’s face is older than I expected, her hair graying around the edges, but there’s no mistaking it. It’s her. My mom. I can see myself in her face—the eyes, the smile, even the shape of her nose.
Can this even be real? The question loops in my mind over and over, like a bad dream I can’t wake up from. Why did my grandparents lie to me? Why did they tell me she was dead when she’s been out there, alive, working at this place all this time?
I feel like my whole life has been built on lies. The people who raised me—who I thought were my rock, my foundation—hid the most important truth from me. They lied to me. They let me believe that I was an orphan, that I was alone. And now they’re both gone, taking their secrets with them.
My hand clenches into a fist around the phone, the urge to throw it across the room almost overwhelming. But I force myself to stay still. Losing it here, in this airport lounge, isn’t going to help anything. I need to stay calm. I need to figure this out.
But how? How do I confront the woman who abandoned me? How do I face the truth after a lifetime of believing a carefully protected string of lies?
I lean back in my chair, running a hand through my hair, trying to breathe through the anger building inside me.
And I realize, sitting here, staring at the clock counting down to my flight, that I can’t do this alone. As much as I hate to admit it, as much as I’ve tried to push her away, I need Jessica.
I need her steady presence. Her calm logic. I need the way she looks at things so clearly, without all the emotional baggage clouding her vision. I need her.
The thought settles deep in my chest, surprising me. How did it come to this? How did I, Eric Warren, the guy who never needed anyone, come to rely on someone so completely? I didn’t even realize it was happening, but now that I’ve acknowledged it, I can’t deny it.
I’ve come to depend on Jessica.
My phone buzzes in my hand, pulling me out of my thoughts. It’s Jake, my old teammate from Nashville. I stare at the screen for a second, considering answering. But I don’t. Not because I don’t care about him, but because even Jake—who’s been my closest friend for years—can’t help me with this. Not the way Jessica can.
I turn my phone face down on the table, letting it buzz quietly against the wood. I can’t go through with this trip. Not alone. I know that now.
Before I can overthink it, I stand up, grab my bag, and leave the lounge. The decision feels sudden, impulsive, but in my gut, I know it’s the right one. I can’t go to Vegas alone. I need to talk to Jessica. I need to make this right.
The drive back to the Stanton house feels like it takes forever, even though it’s really only forty-five minutes. As I pull into the driveway, I notice a new car parked out front. Kathy and Laura must be here in town for Christmas. I’d all but forgotten about their visit.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves tightening my chest. I don’t even know what I’m going to say to Jessica. I just know I need to see her.
The front door opens before I even have a chance to knock, and Kathy Stanton stands there, her face lighting up when she sees me.
“Eric—I know your face! Come in, come in. Congrats on winning last week. I’m sure Bill is happy,” she exclaims, stepping forward to pull me into a quick hug. “I feel like I know you, young man. I feel that way about all of Bill’s guys, though. I was just asking Jessica about her roommate. Sorry about the mixup with the house! Jess said you were heading to Vegas?”
I force a smile, feeling a little awkward about the torrent of words coming out of Mrs. Stanton’s mouth. “Yeah, change of plans.”
She looks at me curiously but doesn’t push for details. Instead, she steps aside to let me in. The house smells like pine and gingerbread, warm and festive, and for a moment, I feel a pang of guilt for even thinking about leaving. This place has become more of a home to me than I ever expected.
Laura appears from the living room, smiling politely when she sees me. “Hi Eric, right?” she says, coming over to shake my hand. “We were just finishing up the tree. You’re just in time to help.”
I glance past her into the living room, where the Christmas tree stands tall and proud, half-covered in lights and ornaments. Jessica is there, too, carefully hanging a glass ornament on one of the higher branches. She’s quiet, focused, her expression unreadable. But she looks over when I walk in, and for a brief second, our eyes meet.
She gives me a small smile—polite, distant—but it doesn’t reach her eyes. And it hits me, harder than I expected, how much I’ve messed this up. She’s treating me like a roommate, nothing more. It’s exactly what I wanted, isn’t it? To keep things simple. To keep her at arm’s length instead of facing the issues at hand.
But now that I have it, now that she’s pulled away, I hate it.
“Come on,” Laura says, leading me into the room. “We need some muscle to hang this star.”
I force a grin, trying to act normal, but my mind is spinning. As we decorate the tree, I make small talk with Kathy and Laura, getting to know them both. They’re the nicest people, but my attention keeps drifting to Jessica. She’s here, but she feels a million miles away.
I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t even know if I can.
After the tree is finally done, we all stand back to admire it. It’s beautiful, glowing with soft white lights and sparkling ornaments, a picture-perfect holiday scene. But all I can think about is how hollow it feels without Jessica next to me.
Kathy and Laura start talking about their plans for the next few days, and I nod along, but my mind is somewhere else. I’m thinking about Vegas. About my mom. About the confrontation waiting for me.
But more than that, I’m thinking about Jess.
I glance at her again, and this time, she catches me looking. Our eyes lock, and for a brief second, something flickers between us. Something unspoken, something I can’t quite put into words.
And then, just as quickly, it’s gone. She looks away, her expression blank, and I feel the distance between us grow wider.
I can’t let this go on. I can’t leave things like this.
After a few more minutes of awkward small talk, Kathy and Laura excuse themselves to the kitchen to check on the cookies Jessica had been baking earlier. As soon as they’re out of the room, I turn to Jessica, taking a deep breath.
“Can we talk?” I ask, my voice low.
She hesitates for a moment, then nods. “Sure.”
We move to the far side of the room, away from the tree and the warmth of the fireplace. The air between us feels charged, like there’s too much unsaid. Too much unresolved.
“I’m sorry,” I start, not really knowing where to begin. “I really am. About everything.”
She crosses her arms, her expression guarded. “You don’t have to apologize, Eric. We’ve been over this already. I told you, you were right. It’s not my business to help you find your mom.”
The words are cold, distant, and they hit me hard.
“That’s not what I meant,” I say, frustration creeping into my voice. “I didn’t mean to push you away. I just… I didn’t know how to handle it. I still don’t.”
She sighs, looking tired, like she’s been carrying the weight of this conversation long before I even started it.
“You don’t owe me anything, Eric,” she says quietly. “And this isn’t just about your mom. There’s been too many surprises, too many times when you chose not to communicate. It’s unfair to me. Look, this is your life, your journey. You don’t need me to hold your hand through it.”
Her words sting, but the truth is, I do need her. More than I realized.
“That’s the thing, though,” I admit, my voice softer now. “I do need you. I can’t do this alone, Jessica. I thought I could, but I can’t.”
She looks at me then, her eyes searching mine, as if she’s trying to figure out whether or not to believe me. And in that moment, I realize how much I’ve hurt her by pushing her away. By keeping her at arm’s length when she was the one person who could actually help me through this mess.
“I’m scared,” I say, the words coming out before I can stop them. “I don’t know how to face her. I don’t know how to face any of this. And I don’t know what to do about us.”
“Us?” she echoes, her voice barely a whisper.
I nod, my heart pounding in my chest. “Yeah. Us.”
For a long moment, she just stares at me, her eyes full of questions. And then, slowly, she shakes her head.
“There is no ‘us,’ Eric,” she says quietly. “Not the way you want there to be.”
Her words are like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of me.
“I don’t know what you want from me,” she continues, her voice trembling just slightly. “But I can’t be your fix, Eric. I can’t be the one to heal all your wounds. You need to figure out what you want, and you need to do it on your own.”
Her words hang heavy in the air, and for the first time in a long time, I’m speechless. Because she’s right.
I’ve spent so long trying to run from my past, from my feelings, that I haven’t even stopped to think about what I really want. Or what I need. And now, standing here, staring at the woman I care about more than I realized, I have no idea how to fix it.
“I’m sorry,” I say again. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know,” she says softly. “But that doesn’t make it any easier.”
She looks at me for a moment longer, and then, without another word, she turns and walks away.
I watch her go, my heart sinking as I realize that I might have just lost the one person I didn’t know I needed.