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“Always, baby. I’m always here for you. Now, you rest. This isn’t the end. It’s just a fork in the road. Sometimes the best things in the world are unexpected.”
Her mother always knew what to say to put her mind at ease.
As her mom exited, Remy was able to breathe a little lighter. The room grew hazy as her eyes fluttered closed, dreaming of the face of the child that grew within her. The thought of her womb being emptied brought her a hollow ache. She would keep their child. Maybe a baby would give Mikel even more reason to get clean.
* * *
Remy woke to a dark room. She switched on the lamp by her bed. Her phone showed several texts from Emma, and one from Mikel.
Mikel: Not tonight. I’m too tired. Just gonna go to bed.
Her heart sank.
He needed to have a clear head when she told him anyways. She could wait until the morning.
* * *
The sun rose and she sent him a text first thing.
Remy: Can you come over? Or I can come to you? I really need to talk to you.
Hours passed with no reply. He was probably sleeping in. She texted Jasmine.
Remy: Hey, do you know if Mikel is still sleeping?
Jasmine: Snoring loud enough to wake the neighbors.
* * *
It was three in the afternoon. When she’d been staring at the same page of her book for an hour, she gave up. She was crawling out of her skin, unable to sit still any longer. She got in her car and drove to his house.
She didn’t bother knocking. Turning the knob, she pushed the door open the same moment someone on the other side pulled, causing her to stumble. A large body bumped into her, arms shooting out to steady her before she fell. She gasped.
“Mikel, I—” She covered her mouth in shock at the black bruise around his eye: angry red marks fading into purple where the skin had split open. His mouth was cut and swollen too.
“What happened?” she asked, concern and fear rooting in her belly.
“You should see the other guy.” The joke wasn’t light, but forced.
“When?” she asked.
“Last night.”
“I thought you came home and went to bed after work?” she asked, her tone more accusatory than she’d intended.
His expression hardened. “I was planning on it, and then Isaiah texted me. I went out to have a fucking drink with my friend. I’ve been neglecting him, spending every waking minute with you.”
She winced as his words shredded her. Am I too clingy? “I needed to talk to you.”
He sighed. “Fine, you can come with me.” He walked off the porch towards his truck. She hurried to catch up.
She didn’t like this version of Mikel. He was unpredictable. Withdrawals? Is he going to buy from Isaiah? He had sworn on his love for her that he wouldn’t use again. Once they got through this period, he should be back to normal. I hope.
She climbed into the cab and buckled up. He drove down the road, turning the music up loud. Linkin Park drowned out any chance of having a conversation.
He parked in front of the house she had come to know as Isaiah’s, and her hope plummeted. He shut the car off as she sucked in a breath. Confusion and uncertainty violently twisted inside her.
“Do you really think it’s a good idea to hang around with Isaiah since he always has drugs?” she asked, disbelief and fear coiling inside her and latching on to what little control she had left. Not to mention your history with June.
