Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
JENSEN
Fuck.
Alley’s sobs slow, each one coming softer than before.
“That’s it, babe. Nice, slow breaths. You’ve got this. I’m right here.”
Fuck.
I’d gone to the gym this morning, came back, showered. She was still out of it. I dinked around for a bit, then decided to grab us coffee and bagels from one of our favorite roasting companies. Completely forgot my phone. By the time I realized, I was already halfway around the block.
She’s rocking now, small whimpers slipping out between shaky breaths, and my stomach knots so tight it’s hard to breathe. It guts me, watching my wife break down because of the shit I’ve put her through. It’s a different kind of pain. One that cuts deeper than any withdrawal ever could.
And it’s the fucking worst.
I don’t know what else to do—just stay here and hold her? Try to get her up, get some food in her, maybe coffee? No. Stay. Definitely stay.
I start to lower myself beside her, but her hands clutch at my neck.
“I’m not leaving, babe. Just sitting right here next to you.”
She loosens her grip, and I ease down, pressing a kiss to her temple. I smooth my hand over the back of her head, down to her shoulder, gently nudging her to my lap.
Her head lands in the crook of my thigh and hip. I rake my fingers through her hair, palm stroking her back. She’s shaking—not convulsing, but trembling from the inside out. Like aftershocks. Deep, rolling waves coming from her core.
God, I just want to hold her. Carry her to bed. Wrap myself around her, put some weight on her, ground her. But I know better than to move her right now.
I’ve only had one of these. It was the third day in rehab.
Everything hit me at once—the failure, the fear, the fact I couldn’t talk to anyone but Matt for twelve weeks.
The reality that Alley was gone, and I had no way to reach her.
I got sick that day too. I was fully detoxed, over two weeks clean, but my body was so stripped and starved of nutrients.
It hadn’t had any real care for so long, it’s like it didn’t know what to do with the sudden influx of attention.
I’d ended up on the floor in my room when I was supposed to be in a group session.
Couldn’t talk. Couldn’t move. The world was spinning, everything and everyone was feeling farther away than ever, and all I could do was lie there and panic.
My body had finally had enough. I’d been playing dangerously for years, daring something to happen to me.
Daring the universe to fuck with me. And it did.
Struck me like a bolt of lightning. That’s what it felt like.
I close my eyes now and focus on my breathing. On her. I’m here. Sober. Clean. And she’s letting me be her safe place again.
I let that sink in.
I didn’t fuck this up.
I was here for her when she needed me, and the weight of that thought burrows in my chest, swelling my throat until I have to focus on the next breath just to keep it together. It shakes as I inhale through my nose.
She needed me.
And I was here.
I’ve seen Alley spiral before. A lot. But I was always too far gone to really feel it. To hold it the way I should have. I’d recognize her pain, but it never cut through my own haze the way this does. This hurts.
Because even though I’m the one here holding her now, I’m also the reason this happened in the first place.
Jesus. She thought I had drugs hidden somewhere. Thought I left to get high.
Her fingers dig into my calf, squeezing tight. I bring my left hand around to hers and she latches on like it’s the only thing keeping her above water.
“Do you want to go lie down?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
She shakes her head.
Damn. My legs are falling asleep. Couldn’t tell you the last time I sat cross-legged on the floor.
I shift, careful not to jostle her too much, and straighten the leg she isn’t resting on.
Pins and needles shoot up my calf, that sharp sting as the blood rushes back in. The other leg’s fine… for now.
We stay there, silent, for I don’t know how long. Ten minutes at least. Eventually, she relaxes a little. The sharp gasps of air slow into deep, even breaths. The soft whimpers fade. A heaviness replaces the tremors, her body going slack and sinking further into me.
It’s everything.
Being here for her, and riding it out together. I just hope this doesn’t push us back. That it cements her trust in me instead of cracking it. That the fear of this happening again doesn’t freeze us in place.
Alley’s grip loosens as she slowly pushes herself up. Her eyes find mine, and my heart squeezes in my chest.
God. It’s fucking sad—bloodshot eyes, face blotchy and raw, streaked with tears. Hair plastered to her cheek from sweat and saltwater.
I brush a finger along her cheek, freeing the strands and tucking them behind her ear.
“Hey,” I murmur, my voice rough, thick like I just woke up.
“Hey.” Hers is barely there. Just a quiet breath of sound, but enough to tell me she’s still with me. Her gaze searches mine, and moisture wells again. She closes her eyes, letting fresh tears slip down her cheeks.
I cup her face and press a kiss to her forehead. “I’m right here, babe.”
She nods, eyes still shut. “I know.” Her voice cracks on the words. She swallows. Tears stream down her cheeks as she curls her hands around my wrists, anchoring herself to me. “I know.”
A minute later, her hands slide up my arms and fold around my neck. Her lips find mine, soft and barely there, but somehow it lands harder than any kiss we’ve ever shared.
It’s gratitude.
It’s appreciation.
It’s surrender.
It’s trust.
She fucking trusts me right now.
She inhales a sharp breath against my mouth, breathing me in like I’m the only oxygen she’s got. Then she crushes her lips to mine with the weight of a hundred pounds, pulling me into her like she’ll never let go.
Something inside me explodes.
Not in a sexual way.
Not destructively.
In the best way. Like we took every lie, every betrayal, every ounce of hurt between us, shoved it in a box…
…and set that shit on fire.
I kiss her back like I fucking mean it. Like I need her just as much as she needs me. Like this one kiss could heal every splintered piece between us.
I kiss her like I love her.
Because I do.
More than anything.
Her tongue strokes against mine, lips taking what she wants, what she needs. And I let her.
Desire spikes hard, my cock making itself known. I could lose myself in this. But I won’t. Not until she’s okay. She’s too vulnerable right now. Too raw.
So I stifle it.
I break the kiss, tugging gently on her swollen bottom lip.
“Hey,” I whisper against her mouth, our breaths mingling. “I got coffee and bagels. How about we go get them?” I pull back just enough to meet her eyes. “We can sit on the couch, talk. I’ll hold you while we drink our coffee.”
She gives a small nod. “Okay.”
Okay.