Chapter 2 #3
“I understand, truly,” he tells me with a stern confidence. “And the last thing I want is to hurt Claire more than I already have. But I want to prove to you how serious I am this time. I want to show you I will, without a doubt, make it back to the both of you clean and sober.”
Travis suddenly takes a step back and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a little black box.
My eyes widen as I watch in horror, my face going flush as my hands shake.
Just as he starts to drop to one knee, I launch forward and catch his elbow, stopping him from doing so before anyone around us notices.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I whisper yell, my eyes darting around to make sure no one was paying us any attention. “Are you serious?”
“Of course I am.” He looks down at me in confusion. “I should have proposed to you a long time ago, Mar. I want this.”
I breathe out a surprised laugh, shaking my head as I avoid eye contact and attempt to get my heart beating back at a normal rhythm. I suddenly grab his hand, pulling him through the crowd and back to our empty table. As I drag him behind me, I catch sight of Kirstin staring at us.
“This is absurd,” I tell him once I push him down into his chair. “Do you really think that slapping a ring on it makes everything just magically go back to normal?”
“No, that’s not it at all. I wanted to show you I’m in it for the long haul, that I’m not going anywhere. That I am going to finish the program and come home to you.”
My hands grip the back of my chair as I stare down at the cushion, biting the corner of my lip as I try to calm myself down. “Doing those things proves to me you can do it. Not proposing to me on a whim, or out of fear.”
“It’s neither of those things.” Travis leans forward so he’s closer to me. “I’ve had this ring for three years, Mar. Three. It just never felt like the right time.”
I sigh, pulling out the chair I was gripping, and sit down. My knees press against his as I grab for his hands, holding them between my own. “Does now really feel like the right time?”
“It feels better than any other over the last few years,” he admits, hanging his head. He pulls one of his hands out of mine and runs it through his hair before looking back at me. “I’m just so terrified I’m going to lose you. I cannot lose you, Mar.”
“Asking me to marry you doesn’t guarantee that you won’t.
” I keep my voice soft, attempting to lessen the blow of my words.
“Trav, all I ask is that you finish the program this time, no matter how hard it may be. Claire and I deserve to have you home with a logical mind. If you can do that, if you can stay strong and do what needs to be done for our family, then I will consider your proposal, okay?”
Travis nods, a pained look on his face, but he smiles at me nonetheless. I lean forward and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. His arms loop around my waist, holding me tight.
“I hope you know how much I love you,” he whispers into my ear, hugging me a little tighter. “I know I keep saying it, but I promise I’ll do whatever I can for you and Claire.”
I pull back and cup his cheek with one hand, a sad smile no doubt on my face. “I know you will.”
“Hope I’m not interrupting.” Kirstin’s voice startles the both of us, causing me to pull away as I look over my shoulder. “I know it’s getting late, so I just wanted to let you know you can go home whenever you like. I can wrap things up here.”
“Thank you, Kirstin.” I rest my hand on top of hers that rests on the back of my chair. “I’ll see you Monday?”
Kirstin smiles and nods, giving my hand a small squeeze before she walks back towards the dance floor.
I focus my attention back on Travis for a moment, noticing the conflicted expression covering his features.
Instead of saying a word, I grab my purse off the table and stand, extending a hand towards him.
We exit the hall hand in hand, heading out to the valet. Once Travis gets my coat and helps me put it on, he retrieves the key to the car and opens the passenger door for me. He waits until I’m secured inside before he closes the door and walks around to climb in behind the wheel.
The drive to Tallgrass Treatment Center is quiet, not even the hum of the radio providing solace. I glance over at him, staring at the side of his face, wondering what he’s thinking about. I can only imagine that his thoughts are like my own.
Travis stood outside the door, tears streaming down his face. I gripped the door tightly, wishing more than anything I had it in me to close it in his face.
“Please, Marlowe,” he begged, falling to his knees in front of me. “I can’t get well there. I can’t get well without my girls. I need to be here, please.”
Those words broke something within me and I dropped to the ground, cupping his face in my hands as I brushed away his tears. “Come inside.”
I leaned with my head against the closed door as I listened to Travis plead on the other side. The past due credit card statements were mocking me on the kitchen island, a stark reminder of where Travis’s actions had put me.
Tearing open the door, I rolled my eyes as they landed on Travis. He was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, so he was facing my door. I rested a hand on my hip as he looked up at me, the familiar red rim around his eyes drawing a frustrated sigh from me.
“You couldn’t even make it back here without getting high?”
“I have nowhere else to go,” he informed me, pushing himself up to his feet as he nervously wrung his hands together. “No one will take my calls, and the shelters are full.”
I closed my eyes, resting my head against the door frame. Looking back at him, I opened the door wider to allow him in. “This is the last time, Travis. I can’t keep doing this.”
“I can’t accept this,” I told Blue, trying to give the check back to her. “This is too much.”
“It’s funny that you think you even have that option.” She cast a glance at the pile of past due bills piling up on the island before looking at me again. “Use it to get caught up. You need to focus on your daughter, not worrying about bills. I’m doing this for the both of you.”
Tears slid down my cheeks as I closed the space between us, throwing my arms around my best friend. “Thank you.”
Travis’s fist pounded loudly on the front door, rattling the hinges before he tried the handle. I stood a few feet away, unwilling to approach and look out the peephole. The last thing I wanted was to see him that way, and I refused to let him manipulate me anymore.
“Please, Marlowe,” he pleaded, his knocking on the door turning softer and more defeated. “You can’t give up on me like this.”
I scoffed quietly at that, rolling my eyes as I leaned against the wall. He tried the handle one more time before a sob reached my ears. For once, the sound did nothing; no empathy or sadness or guilt clawed at me this time.
And as his retreating footsteps slipped down the hallway, I released a breath that I hadn’t realized I was holding. For once, I finally felt strong.
We pull up outside of the treatment center, and Travis puts the car in park. He sits there for a moment, not saying a word as he grips the wheel and stares out the windshield. I look out my own window and notice a woman standing by the front doors, waiting for him.
“I’m sorry.” I turn my head at the sound of Travis’s voice and am keenly aware of the tears that well in my eyes.
“For everything. I’m sorry that we’re here again, that I wasn’t able to do what needed to be done before.
But please,” he pleads, his voice breaking as he turns toward me and grabs my hand.
“Please don’t give up on me. Don’t leave me. ”
We stare at one another for a moment before he releases my hand to reach for the handle and climbs out of the car.
I watch as he walks around the hood, coming to a stop at my door and opening it for me.
Slipping my hand into his, I allow him to pull me to my feet and I climb the curb up to the sidewalk.
“Hey,” I whisper, giving his hand a gentle tug. He turns around to face me, and I can see the fear and apprehension plain as day. “I need you to believe that you’ve got this. Otherwise, it’ll all fall apart again.”
“I do,” he states confidently, despite the nervous shake of his hand that is wrapped in mine. “I got this.”
I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his cheek before pulling back. When I do, he rests his forehead against mine. “We’ll be rooting for you, okay?”
“I love you.”
Travis suddenly pulls away, holding my hand a moment longer before he takes a couple of steps backwards. Turning around, he approaches the woman waiting by the entrance of the treatment center. I stay by the car as they exchange a few words and am surprised when he comes jogging back over to me.
“Here.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the ring box.
He grabs my hand and places it in my open palm.
I shake my head frantically, but he cups my face in his hands to stop me.
“You keep it, hold on to it for me. I can’t bring anything in with me, anyway.
I promise I’ll get that back from you and get down properly next time. ”
Travis steps away and heads back towards the woman, pulling open the door and disappearing inside. I swallow the lump in my throat, looking down at the box that is clenched in my fist when I hear the soft sound of heels clicking on the pavement.
“You must be Marlowe.” She stops a couple of feet away from me. “I almost wish I could go over our lecture with you. That would mean you haven’t been in this position before.”
To my surprise, a soft, sad laugh skips past my lips. “Is it stupid of me to say that I hope this is the last time? No matter what the outcome?”
“Not at all,” she responds without hesitation, taking another step closer. “No one likes to see those they love suffer when there is a solution to fix it. We will do all that we can for him as long as he allows. Would you like me to keep you updated?”
“Please. I need to know either way, need to know what to prepare for, you know?” I pause, taking a deep breath. “We have a seven-year-old little girl at home. It’s time I put aside the memories of what he and I used to be and start thinking about what my daughter needs.”
The woman puts a comforting hand on my arm, her eyes falling to the box in my hand. “I barely know you, but I can tell that you’ve always put the needs of your daughter first. But can I say something before you leave?” I nod, straightening slightly. “Don’t let him get in your head.”
I give her a weak smile, knowing that a verbal reply isn’t needed. I have heard the same thing plenty of times from the other social workers and therapists at previous treatment centers he had gone into in the past. Hopefully, this is the time their advice will stick.
She gives me one last smile before she turns around and heads back into the building.
I stand there for a moment, taking a deep breath, and center myself.
Walking around the hood of the car, I open the driver's side door and climb in behind the wheel, putting the little black box in the cup holder so it is out of my line of sight.
I grip the steering wheel tightly in my hands, the tears that appeared earlier finally gliding down my cheeks.
I reach over and grab my purse off the passenger seat, digging through it for my phone. I dial Blue’s number, putting the phone on speaker and placing it in the cell holder that is connected to the vents. Peeling away from the curb, I wait for her to answer.
“You doing okay, babe?” She asks the second she picks up.
“I just dropped him off.” I speed through the surprisingly empty streets towards my apartment. “The woman said she’d keep me updated.”
Blue is silent for a moment, and I hear the hum of the television in the background. “Mar, are you okay?”
“I will be,” I reply honestly, despite the tears that are silently falling down my cheeks. “No matter what happens, I genuinely feel like this is a new start for me, for us. I can’t explain it, but it feels like something good is finally going to come my way.”
“I sure hope so, babe. You deserve to be happy.”
As our song plays on the radio, a sense of resolution comes over me. “I know I do.”