Relapse

by J. P. Nicholas

  "Well, I gotta go. I made a promise that I must keep. Just go talk to him, Aly. Tell him everything you just told me. And for fuck's sake, stop crying. You know I hate to see a woman cry, especially you, Hannah, and Mom."

  Logan swipes away the remainder of my tears before he gets up and treks out the door.

  "Do I even want to know what promise you are referring to?" I call out to him.

  "You most certainly do not!"

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Darren

  KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

  "I'm coming!" I shout, clutching my aching head as I place a half-empty glass of bourbon down on the counter.

  Wyatt jerks both his head and tail up toward the ceiling. He looks at the door, and then back at me, a questionable look in his blue eyes.

  "I don't know who it is either, mate," I mutter, making my way to the door.

  As soon as I open it, a fist collides with my jaw. I fall to the ground as the whole world fades black.

  After an unknown amount of time, I blink open my eyes, forcing my blurry vision to focus itself. My attacker's green eyes pierce down at me. They’re a shade darker than Alyssa's, but in spite of my current condition, I can still see the family resemblance.

  I peek my tongue out to wet my dry lips. The taste of metal mixes poorly with the alcohol on my tongue. I must be bleeding. I wince as I brush my finger over the gash on my lip. Fuck!

  Wyatt is in an aggressive stance as he growls at our unexpected visitor.

  "It's alright, mate." As soon as Wyatt hears my voice, he stops and comes to my side on the floor.

  I look up at the man who's towering over me. "I presume that was for breaking up with your sister?"

  He reaches his hand down to help me up. I take it, and he helps me return to an upright position on my feet.

  "Yeah, I made her a promise that if you hurt her, I would hurt you back. Well, I actually promised to fucking castrate you, but considering why you two broke up, I settled for a punch to your jaw."

  I scoff. "Well, I appreciate you leaving my twig and berries out of this."

  Logan's eyes drag over me. "You look like shit, even excluding the busted lip I gave you."

  I rake a hand through my hair. "I feel like it too."

  Concern dances across his eyes, but I assume it's for his sister's wellbeing and not mine. He stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Aly would kill me if she knew I was here doing this. But you two are dumbasses who need a shove in the right direction."

  I take offense. "Excuse me?"

  He holds up a finger, signaling for me to hold on a minute. "She applied for that job before she left New York. Ergo, that was before you two were a you two again."

  My mind swirls from his words, or the whiskey, or the punch. I'm not sure which. All I know is my mind is hazy and spinning all over the bloody place.

  I place both hands on my head, trying to stop the spinning. "If that's true, why didn't she tell me that?"

  "Because you blindsided her, jackass. She was in shock. Unable to speak, let alone defend herself. Besides, you didn't have to react the harsh way that you did."

  I narrow my eyes at him, trying to calm myself as both anger and sadness start to pump in my veins. "Harsh? She told me that she wanted to give us another chance. Then I find out that she has a job offer in New York. How do you think I'd react? She had a foot out the door the whole damn time we were together. I don't think I was harsh. A little excessive, maybe. But definitely not harsh."

  He backhands my chest. "If you weren't harsh, then why has she been crying for three days straight?"

  Guilt wrenches itself in my stomach, churning sharply until I'm nothing but raw on the inside. She's been crying for three days because of me. Because of what I did to her. I didn't want that. This.

  I guess I just assumed she would see this coming since she knew she had plans to go back to New York after the summer was over. She knew our relationship had an expiration date. I didn't. But that doesn't make it any better, does it? I still hurt her. Made her cry. This whole thing is so fucking twisted. Fucked up.

  “I guess I was just—"

  "I’ll tell you exactly what you were doing. You were waiting for her to leave you again. You never truly forgave her for the first time, or you wouldn't have been searching for that smoking gun in the first place. When you answered that phone call, you found the ammo you needed. A reason to leave her before she leaves you. Well, guess what, asshole? You. Left. Her. Not the other way around this time. Don't get it twisted. You did to her what she did to you five years ago. So, you should know exactly how she feels right now 'cuz you've fucking been there before! And the cherry on top of this shit sundae is she doesn't want that job anyway. If you would've talked to her instead of screaming at her, maybe she would've told you that herself."

  As if I couldn't feel any worse, in comes Logan Lance to shove my face into a heaping pile of dog shite. But he has a point. I could've talked to her, but I chose not to. I chose to act like an irrational moron who can't control his emotions. I should have believed her when she said she wanted to give us a second chance. I should have known that she wouldn't do that to me again.

  "I fucked up so fucking hard," I admit on a sigh, closing my eyes as I drag a hand through my hair.

  Logan points at me. "Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner. Now, what are you going to do about it?"

  The question he poses echoes in my mind. What the bloody hell am I going to do about it?

  "I-I don't know." I bow my head, ashamed. I should know what to do. This is my element. Loving someone so hard that it repulses those around us. I excel at that. So why can't I think of the perfect grand gesture to show her how much she means to me? To acknowledge that I fucked things up. To apologize to her for jumping to the worst conclusions. I need something to say all three of these things and so much more. I need…a miracle. That's when the thought hits me. What would Lauren Blakely have her hero do?

  "Well, you're running out of time." Logan takes out a piece of paper from his pocket, crumples it into a ball, and slams the hand holding it into my chest. I clutch his hand, allowing him to drop the paper into mine. He takes a step back. "There's a good place to start."

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Aly

  It's the day before Hannah and Logan's one-year anniversary party, the one that requires me to wear a bridesmaid's dress and give a speech. Yeah, that's the one. I haven't even started working on my speech yet, but I'm not too worried. My maid-of-honor duties haven't been at the forefront of my mind lately. Nope, the real estate in my brain is still being occupied by Darren. He's in my thoughts, dreams, nightmares, and fantasies—especially when I take a shower.

  I've been thinking a lot about my talk with Logan and his persistence that I just go over and talk to Darren, but I'm not ready yet. I don't know why I feel this way, but I do. I need more time. Besides, if Darren wanted to make amends, I think he would've done so by now since it's been a little over two weeks. But I guess that's just it…he doesn't want to. He doesn't want me.

  In preparation for the party, Mom, Hannah, Mrs. Montgomery, and I all sit around Hannah's kitchen island and stuff the hell out of these party favors. Each bag gets a nautical anchor bottle opener, a set of Adirondack chair mini-picture frames, white mini-lanterns, and a silk bag filled with Jordan almonds. I can't wait to take one of these goodie bags home for myself; the stuff inside is too cute.

  Hannah's brows lift when a distant cry can be heard from down the hallway. "Excuse me, ladies. Duty calls."

  As soon as Hannah is out of earshot, Mrs. Montgomery and my Mom start conspiring in front of me. I just sit there and remain silent, thoroughly enjoying the entertainment.

  "How long do you think it's going to be before they go for baby number two?" Mom asks, a vibrant smile beaming across her face.

  "With the way those two can't keep their hands off each other, probably sooner rather than later. I could always use another grandchild to spoil. Besides, I don't kno
w for sure, but yesterday when we were out shopping, Hannah was ogling some cute baby dresses."

  My mother gasps with both shock and excitement. "You don't think she's already pregnant, do you?"

  Mrs. Montgomery shrugs. "I don't know. It's possible, though. Hannah's been off the pill, so unless your boy has been wrapping up his sword, there's a good chance she might be. I know they both want a big family, but there's no need for them to jump on the bandwagon this early."

  Mom smacks her lips. "As for my son's lollipop, it's most definitely been out of the wrapper for a while now. I asked Little Johnny at the convenient store, and let's just say my son hasn't bought any rubbers since he moved here. And that's easy for you to say, I only have one grandchild, you have three."

  My mother is referring to Hannah's older brother, Liam. He's got both a son and a daughter. I haven't seen them all too often, but I can attest that they are both frickin' adorable. Liam's son, Ben, has this kind of confident swagger about him that only a handsome five-year-old can master. While Elle, his two-year-old daughter, is more of a reserved, beautiful, and quiet little thing—but not any less adorable. Thinking about them makes me beyond excited to see them tomorrow at the party.

  "True. Three is way more fun than having just one. What about your boy, Ethan? Can't you count on him to knock up his wife?"

  My mom shrugs off Mrs. Montgomery's question.

  "Who knows? He and his wife have been married for a couple of years now and still no signs of baby fever. Logan and Hannah are the only hope I have at this point." Mom sighs as if this is the saddest realization she's ever had. It's not by any means, but mothers can get kinda crazy when it comes to their babies having babies. It's a known fact etched in stone in a cave somewhere. It cannot be rewritten.

  "Well, I mean Hannah didn't drink the champagne when we went dress shopping for the party." I cover my mouth, instantly regretting adding this little bit of knowledge to this ridiculous conversation. A conversation about my brother's sex life.

  Both motherly heads turn my direction. They both stare at me with bugged-out eyes. You'd think I'd grown two more heads out of my breasts with the expressions they flash me.

  "Oh, my God!" They both squeal in unison. I hope baby Jack isn't trying to go back to sleep because that would surely have woken him up again.

  Mrs. Montgomery stands up from her stool, purpose and determination lingering in her eyes. "I'm going to just flat out ask her."

  "You can't just ask her, Margo."

  "The hell I can't. I'm her mother. I'll go ask her; you go get a pregnancy test."

  Both women nod as if this is the best idea in the world and I can't help but wonder if I'm ever going to get that. Am I ever going to get to the point where I am trying to solve the mystery of am I going to be a grandma? Right now, it doesn't feel like I am. Accompanying that thought is an overwhelming feeling of loneliness. It starts at my heart, running through my bloodstream until it roots itself at my core. Maybe I'm just destined to die alone because the one person I truly want no longer wants me.

  "Oh, Honey. You scared the living pig shit outta me." My mother says after opening the door. You know, living down here again has sure been bringing out her southern roots again. In New York, she almost lost the accent completely. Now, it flies out every now and again, especially when she's frightened.

  Expecting Logan, I'm surprised to find Ethan in the doorway. He scratches the back of his head. "Sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to frighten you. Logan told me I could find you all here."

  My mother glances over Ethan's shoulder, searching behind him. "Is Melanie not with you?"

  Ethan shakes his head and heaves a sigh. "No, she couldn't make it. One of the dogs got sick, and she didn't want to leave him."

  Mom places her hand over her heart. "Bless her heart. That's a real shame, though. Anyway, I'll be right back, Honey. I have a quick little errand to run."

  Remembering her mission, my mother flies down the driveway—in high-heels no less—and races down the street. Holy shit! I’ve never seen my mother run like that. Shall I add super speed to her list of motherly powers? Yes, I think I shall.

  "What's that all about?" Ethan asks, hooking his thumb over his shoulder.

  "Grandma on a mission. Don't ask," I say through a laugh. A smile is plastered on my twin's face, but I can tell it's fake by the sadness lurking in his eyes. "Alright, do you wanna tell me what's wrong? Or do I have to pry it out of you?"

  He straightens his posture; I assume to appear more confident in his response. It doesn't fool me. "Nothing's wrong."

  I cross my arms over my chest. Looks like prying it is then. "Cut the bullshit, Ethan. You know you can't get away with lying to me. So, I'll ask you again, what's bothering you?"

  He shakes his head and averts his gaze to the hallway off of Jack's room. "Is Jack here? I haven't seen the little stinker in forever. He needs some Uncle Ethan bonding time."

  I bolt up from my stool, walk over to him, and press my finger into his chest. God, I'm becoming my mother. Using the deadly finger to extract much-needed information. That realization doesn't stop me from pressing my nail deeper into his sternum. That's the magic spot, ladies, where the finger jabbing method is the most productive.

  "Don't change the topic. And don't make me ask you a third time."

  He tries to push my hand down, but I dodge his swat, quickly placing my finger back in the desired position.

  "Christ, Aly. When did you become Mom? Have you been perfecting that skill while you've been down here?"

  "No, now just answer the question." I press even harder against his chest.

  "Ouch! Fine, I don't want to talk about it. Alright?"

  I remove my finger from his chest and use it to brush a loose lock of his dirty-blond hair off his forehead. "C'mon, Ethan. You can tell me anything. You know that."

  He rakes a frustrated hand through his hair before he shoves his hands into his jean pockets. "I know. But I'm not ready to discuss this just yet. So, can we drop it for now?"

  I'm not happy, but I can tell that I've pushed him as far as I can for today, so I nod.

  He smiles. "Great, now tell me why the fuck you're so sad."

  This catches me off-guard, even though it shouldn't. Sometimes I forget this whole twin thing is a two-way street. Just as I can read him like a book, he can read me. It's both a gift and a curse. At first, I consider lying to him, even though it'd be useless. But then I remember everyone else knows my business in this gossipy town, so why shouldn't he?

  So, I tell him. I tell him all about the interview, the job, the jellyfish, all the way to the breakup.

  "Dammit, Aly. That's some fucked up shit," he murmurs under his breath, taking a pause before he continues. "What are you going to do?"

  Abruptly, the front door swings open. My mom rushes past us with a white paper bag in her hand. "Margo, I got one!"

  Ethan raises a brow in question as a chuckle rumbles his chest. "What the hell is going on here?"

  I wave a dismissive hand in the air. "Trust me; you don't want to know. And as for what I'm going to do, I have no frickin' idea."

  "Well, I know what I'm going to do." Ethan walks over toward the pantry and opens it.

  I eye him skeptically. "And that is…"

  Ethan is on a mission of his own, desperately searching for something. "Now, where does Logan keep the jelly?"

  I run over and leap onto his back. "Oh, no, you don't. You cannot just jelly every boyfriend I have."

  I squeeze him tighter, trying to constrict his arms. It doesn't work; he's got muscles on his side.

  He laughs off my attempt, asshole. "Why the hell not? So far, I have; why break the streak?"

  "Technically, you've already jellied him, so your track record is still at one-hundred percent."

  He scratches his chin in regard to my logical comment. "True. I guess I don't need to jelly him…this time. But he does this shit again, he's getting jellied, syruped, ranched, the whole nine yards."
>
  I hop off him. "You think there is going to be a next time? How? He literally hates me right now."

  Ethan scoffs. "Bullshit. He fucking loves you, and you know it. That same gut feeling that told us that Hannah and Logan were meant to be together is the same gut feeling that I have for you and Darren. No arguing with this gut."

  Ethan smacks his flat, muscular stomach.

  "What gut?" I ask on a laugh.

  He smirks with pride. "Just 'cuz it's flat doesn't mean it's not there."

  Three screams come from the other room. Ethan starts to run toward the sound, but I grab his wrist and yank. "I'll go check it out. It's a girl thing; trust me."

  He narrows his eyes at me, skeptical but obedient. He jumps onto the sofa with a thud and closes his eyes. The poor guy's probably jet lagged. I can't blame him; I was when I first arrived down here, even though we didn't actually cross a time zone. So, I guess technically it's just called exhaustion then.

  Knowing Logan, I didn't want Ethan to find out if Hannah's pregnant before he does. That would not sit well with him at all. He doesn't care if I find out that shit first, you know with the girl code and all, but if any guy finds out before him, Logan understandably will go apeshit.

  When I enter Jack's room, all three women are crying on the floor, circled around the pregnancy test. This can only mean one thing. I'm going to be an auntie again.

  "Is she…" I let my voice trail off, fighting back my own tears when they all nod their heads.

  "Congratulations." I wrap Hannah up in my embrace before I ask my next question. "When are you going to tell Logan?"

  "Tonight. I can't keep this a secret from him. But being that it's still too early and we don't know how far along I am, I ask that you ladies do keep it a secret. Please?"

  "Of course," we all say in unison, participating in a giant group hug.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Aly