Chapter 1
Chapter One
JENSEN
Eight Weeks Later
I swallow the lump rising in my throat, blinking back the tears that threaten to fall.
“Jensen? Did you hear me?”
The words hit harder than they should. It’s not like we haven’t talked about this being a possibility—a reality. But still…
I’m stunned.
She filed. She fucking filed.
“Jensen?”
I clear my throat, my eyes flicking between Tobias and Nina. “I heard you,” I say, my voice rough and thick with emotion. Then, because denial’s my default setting, I ask, “Are you sure?”
Tobias nods. “I spoke with Matt last week. He asked if we should tell you now or wait. We talked as a team. Decided you were strong enough to hear it. Someone attempted to serve you six weeks ago… a few days after you arrived.”
I don’t say anything.
“What are you feeling?” Nina asks. Her voice is calm and comforting, but laced with concern.
I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose as I lose the battle and let the storm of emotions rip through me. Tears spill freely now, and I sniff hard, struggling to get a grip.
“Like shit,” I manage. “Hurt.” I inhale, the breath ragged. “Fucking defeated.” A sob breaks loose.
“I’m going to leave you two to your session,” Tobias says gently as he stands. “If you need me later, Jensen, my office is always open.”
He leaves, and it’s just me and Nina, my therapist.
She doesn’t speak right away. Just sits there quietly, giving me space. Letting me process.
“I know this is a blow, and not one you were ready for. But we’ve talked about this. We’ve explored the possibility of Alley filing.” Her voice is steady but soft. “I’m sure you don’t want to talk about it… but I really think we should.”
My thoughts race in a hundred directions, but only one stands out.
She filed for divorce. She actually filed.
She gave up on us.
She gave up on me.
I stare at the floor, my chest burning, each breath shallow and tight.
I tried. Right after detox, I called her. Texted. Begged her to wait—to give me one more chance. I told her I was getting help. That I was finally serious. That I was done using.
She picked up once. Told me it was too late. That she wasn’t coming back. That she was done. And after that, nothing. No replies. No answers. Crickets.
Matt’s the only one I’ve been able to talk to here. Everyone else is off-limits. No texts. No voicemails. Just me, my thoughts, and the silence Alley left behind.
I don’t blame her. I really don’t. But God, it still hurts.
I reach for my water and take a sip, trying to swallow down the thick lump in my throat. “What am I supposed to say? This fucking sucks? What’s it all for if she’s not there when I get home?”
I really thought she might come back. When she left ten weeks ago, I knew something had shifted. That this time, she was serious. But I still thought I had a chance.
I had that bad night—the last one we ever spent together before she left.
I must’ve been really fucked up because I don’t remember much.
All I know is I went home, and Alley was there.
We didn’t fight—at least, I don’t think we did.
I don’t remember any yelling, and the next morning is fuzzy.
I got high and left, and when I came back, she was gone.
Not gone to the store or out to lunch. Gone, like… gone. Bags packed. Out of our life.
I thought maybe she just needed a break, like the time she went to Chicago but came back a few days later. This time, she didn’t.
I crashed, worse than ever before. I was doing shit I’d never done. Smoking or snorting anything put in front of me. I didn’t give a fuck what it was. It wasn’t even about the pain in my knee anymore, it hadn’t been for a long time. I wanted the escape.
Because that feeling of losing Alley—it was unbearable. Like Jack and Rose on the Titanic, only I’m not even sure which one of us was Jack and which one was Rose. Either way, I couldn’t breathe without her.
I was drowning. Sinking straight to the bottom. And I think she knew if she didn’t let go, I’d take her down with me.
Leaving me was her raft.
I had to lose her to hit rock bottom. Something had to give for me to change. And Alley gave—she gave up.
Fuck.
“What’s the point of all this if the one person I care about is gone?” My voice is hoarse, bitter. “Why am I even here?” I look at Nina. “She gave up on me.”
She holds my gaze. “Let’s explore that. Why don’t you tell me what matters to you?”
My eyes drop to the floor. I don’t want to talk. Not right now. I’m too emotional, too deep in it. My thoughts won’t stop spiraling.
Goddammit. I’m fucking sad. I’m devastated.
When I don’t say anything, Nina flips back through her notebook. “I have a list here,” she says gently. “Things that you’ve told me matter to you.”
She starts reading, “Matt. Megan. Kevin,” then continues, naming every member of my family. “Your job. Your clients. Your apartment. Weekends in the Berkshires. Ski trips. Your health…”
The list is long—an entire page. And I listen, because I need to hear it.
When she finishes, she meets my gaze. “This is hard. And I feel for you. I really do. I know Alley’s been a driving force in your recovery, but she’s not the only reason you’re here. Remember the guy on the floor?”
I press my lips together and nod.
“You didn’t want to be him. Are you that guy, Jensen?”
I shake my head. “No,” I say quietly.
“Then who are you?”
These are the questions I hate—the ones that crack me open and make me feel vulnerable.
I’ve done surprisingly well in therapy, considering it’s my first time, and that I’ve always believed it to be pointless.
I resisted it in the beginning, pushed back hard.
But little by little, I’ve started to open up.
Still, these are the questions that make me squirm. The ones that dig beneath the surface and make me face who I really am.
They keep telling me to get comfortable being uncomfortable. Because staying clean isn’t some walk in the park. It’s resisting when your body craves. When your ego whispers lies you almost believe. It’s standing at parties and not drinking. It’s saying no when everything inside you screams yes.
It’s fucking uncomfortable.
“Who were you when you met Alley?”
I let out a bitter scoff. “I don’t know… I was fun. Successful. I could always make people laugh. I made Alley laugh. All the time. We always had fun together.”
Nina nods slowly. “Tell me more about that. What did you two do together that made her laugh?”
I glance at the wall, eyes stinging. “Everything,” I whisper.
“We didn’t even need plans. We’d go for walks and end up on some random bench eating ice cream.
Or stay in and watch movies or football.
I’d mess with her just to hear her yell at me and start smacking me with pillows.
She’d try not to laugh… but she always did. ”
A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth, but it fades just as quickly.
“I miss her laugh so much,” I say, the words breaking something loose in my chest. “It’s the best sound in the world.” I rake a hand through my hair. “I can’t lose her, Nina. I know I already have, but… I don’t know how to exist in a world where she doesn’t want me anymore.”
Nina’s quiet for a beat, letting the moment settle.
“You existed before Alley. And based on our conversations, I take it you were quite happy before you met her. You’ll learn how to exist and be happy again… with or without her.”
I shake my head. “No. You don’t get it. I thought I was happy. But I didn’t know there was this whole other level of happiness. It’s probably like what my sister tells me about having kids. That you think you understand love and purpose, but you don’t really get it until you do.”
I pause, my voice breaking as I try to explain.
“That’s what Alley is for me. She gives happiness a whole new meaning.
She brings a purpose I didn’t know existed.
” I scrub a hand down my face. “Now that I’ve had that, how the hell am I supposed to go back?
Losing her feels like death. Going back to the way things were before?
That’s not happy. That’s not meaningful. ”
She waits a moment, giving my words space to breathe. Then, calmly, she says, “I imagine she felt something very similar, watching the person she loved slip away.”
Fuck. That one stings.
I swallow, trying to push back the truth of her words, but the ache’s too strong—lodged in my throat, heavy in my chest, and sharp in my gut.
Nina doesn’t let up. I like that about her. She’s smart and genuine, a really great therapist. But she’s also a hard-ass. She calls bullshit—and often.
“You’re grieving, Jensen. And it’s okay to feel like this. It’s normal. But you’re not trying to exist in a world without her. You’re trying to rebuild your world so that, regardless of who’s in it, you can stand on your own.”
Her voice stays gentle but firm. “You don’t have to give up on her.
Maybe she’ll come around someday. But I don’t want you clinging to that as your lifeline.
” She pauses, letting the words sink in.
“I don’t want you holding on to false hope—the kind that keeps you stuck or stops you from healing.
Because you didn’t come here just for her.
She might’ve been the push, but you’re the reason you stayed. You’re the reason you’re still here.”
My throat tightens again.
“You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. And you get to decide how big the prize is at the end of all this. Whether she’s there or not, you have to be. You can’t give up on yourself—not anymore. Not ever.”
I close my eyes.
She’s right.
I know she is. And while I don’t want to imagine a life without Alley, I can’t keep believing she’s my only path to happiness.
Nina gently closes her notebook. “We’re going to hold space for both: the man who misses her, and the man who’s trying to come back to himself. Okay?”
I nod, barely holding it together.
“Can you keep showing up for him, too?”
I nod again—firmly this time, even as my lips tremble.
“Good.” She offers a soft smile, one that says she’s proud of me. I’m not sure why it matters so much, but God, I need that smile. Like maybe, buried beneath all my failures, I’ve done something right. Like she sees some good in me.
I let her words soak into me like a sponge. I am doing this for me.
I still have a life to live, and I refuse to live it the way I was.
But that doesn’t mean I have to stop wanting Alley.
I know my purpose. I know my end goal. When I go home, I’ll be clean, strong, and better than before.
And I’ll have done it for me.
It hasn’t been easy—not even close. And I’ve still got six more weeks to go. I just have to keep remembering who I am, who I was, and who I want to be.
I want to be the kind of man Alley might fall back in love with.
The kind of man she’d be proud of.
The kind of man I used to be.
A smile tugs at my lips as a memory sweeps in, Matt and me on the couch, talking about Alley. About the first time I saw her. God, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Matt looked at me and said, A hospital unit’s never stopped you before.
And dammit—neither will divorce papers.
He was right. Nothing’s ever stopped me.
I’ll stay clean. For me.
But I’ll be damned if that means I give up on Alley. I’ll show her how much I’ve changed. I’ll prove it. She just needs to see me.
Fuck the divorce papers.
We’ll find our way back.