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I stared at her, unsure about what to say. What could I say to her? I had never been addicted to hard drugs or pills. I understood how it affected people, but I never had a fucking daughter either.
But, fuck, I couldn’t understand how she could do that to Ana.
After everything.
“Don’t do drugs,” I said, plain and simple.
“The pills are for the pain.”
“No,” I said harshly. “The pills the hospital gave you are for the pain. The pills you bought out on the street are because you’re fucking addicted to them again. And if you’re fucking addicted, then you’re going to lose your daughter. You’re going to lose everything,” I whispered. “Even me.”
My chest tightened, my heart fucking aching. I never wanted to live without her, especially after Dad left. But I couldn’t trust her to do the right thing and to choose her family over drugs.
“João,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
All I could do was stare at her wavering eyes and see the pain inside them. I gulped and walked toward the driver’s door, then slid into the car. Mom tried to get into the car, to grab Ana, but I couldn’t let her.
Before she could, I shut and locked my doors. Ana screamed in the backseat, kicking my seat and throwing a fit, crying for Mom to come get her. I threw the car in reverse and backed down the street since Mom stood angrily in front of the car.
And then I did a U-turn and drove toward Landon’s house, glancing into the rearview mirror with tears in my eyes, my chest tight and my lips pulled in a frown. This wasn’t how I had pictured my night going or how Mom would turn out.
“João!” Ana cried. “I want Mama!”
“Not right now,” I said, hand tight around the steering wheel.
It broke my fucking heart to hear Ana beg for me to turn around, to see her sobbing. She already didn’t have a father; she deserved to have a mother, someone she could look up to and to teach her about life.
But Mom wanted to get high.
To calm Ana down, I drove past Landon’s and took a couple spins around Redwood until she fell asleep in the backseat. Then, I pulled up to the desolate turnaround at the Overlook and stared out my windshield at the ocean.
I slammed my fist into the steering wheel.
Once.
Twice.
Then, hot tears streamed down my fucking cheeks.
