Page 57 of Madness

"Yeah?"

"I do love you. Whatever this means, whatever happens... I love you."

The words are both a balm and a knife. "I love you too," I whisper, feeling utterly lost.

As the call ends, I stare at the bottle of whiskey on the nightstand. The guilt and shame of my harsh words with Lauren slice deep into my soul. I was a fucking dick to her, but yet she still said she loved me. What the fuck is wrong with me? How could I do that to her? She didn’t deserve any of that. Fuck, she’s probably going through more pain than I am right now, and I just completely ignored her feelings.

This has to fucking stop.

With a sudden surge of resolve, I grab the bottle and head for the bathroom. As I watch the amber liquid swirl down the drain, one thought echoes in my mind:

What the hell do I do now? And how do I even begin to unravel the truth about Chloe?

32

IN THE AIR TONIGHT

LAUREN

Iset my phone down on the coffee table, my hand trembling. The echo of Dakota's voice - slurred, angry, then broken - still rings in my ears. My chest tightens, each breath a conscious effort. The faint scent of Dakota's cologne on the throw blanket, once comforting, now makes my stomach turn.

He's drinking again. The suspicion I've been pushing away is now a cold, hard fact. The mood swings, the missed calls, the way his voice would change as our conversations went on - it all makes sense now. But is that all he’s doing? Everything is now in question.

I stand abruptly, needing to move. The floor creaks under my feet as I pace, a sound that usually irritates me but now grounds me in reality. My eyes dart around the room, landing on the framed photo of Roman and Dakota on the mantel. Dakota's smile is wide and genuine, and he helps Roman build a tower of blocks. The sight sends a fresh wave of nausea through me.

How did we get here? Just a few months ago, everything seemed so perfect. Dakota was sober, we were happy, and even the prospect of his tour couldn't dampen our spirits. Now? Now, I'm not sure of anything.

A memory surfaces: the day I found out I was pregnant with Roman. The mix of doubt and joy, fear and hope. The argument with Miles ended with him leaving to get drunk or high. When Miles died, I'd promised myself that my child would never know the pain of loving an addict.

"Not again," I whisper to the empty room. "I can't put Roman through this."

But even as I think it, Dakota's face swims in my mind. His gentle way with Roman, and his support of my nursing school dreams. Is it fair to compare him to Miles?

I move to the kitchen, my hands shaking as I fill a glass with water. My nursing textbooks are spread across the table, and mock exams and study guides are a stark reminder of the life I'm trying to build. The upcoming pharmacology test seems trivial now, but I know it's crucial for my future.

Sipping the water, I lean against the counter, my mind racing. On top of everything else, the financial juggling act I've been performing suddenly feels even more precarious. I've prided myself on managing everything on my own - the rent, the daycare fees, the nursing program expenses. I even turned down Dakota's offers to help. But now, the weight of it all feels crushing. It's not about the money Dakota could provide; it's about the emotional support, the partnership I thought we were building. Can I really handle all of this - single motherhood, a demanding nursing program, and now this emotional turmoil - entirely on my own?

A soft sound from Roman's room makes me look up. I tiptoe to his door, peering in. He's sleeping peacefully, Rex the dinosaur clutched to his chest. The sight of him, so innocent and unaware, brings tears to my eyes.

"I have to protect you," I whisper. "No matter what."

Back in the living room, I curl up on the couch, hugging a pillow to my own chest. I should be reviewing my notes for tomorrow's class, but instead, my mind conjures images of Dakota on tour - in bars, backstage parties, and hotel rooms with mini-bars. I shake my head, trying to dispel the thoughts.

What if he gets help? A small voice in my head argues. What if this was just a slip-up?

But another voice, louder and more insistent, reminds me of the stories Miles told me about his struggles with addiction. The constant battle, the relapses, the toll it took on everyone around him. Hell, then he flat-out showed me what it’s like.

I reach for my phone again, my thumb hovering over Shannon's number. She told me to call her after I spoke to Dakota, but what would I even say? How do I explain that in trying to uncover one painful truth, I stumbled upon another?

Instead, I open my calendar app. Classes, study groups, Roman's daycare schedule - the neat rows of commitments stare back at me. How am I supposed to focus on any of this when my personal life is in such chaos?

I force myself to consider the possibilities. If I end things with Dakota now, I'll be hurt, but I'll protect Roman and myself from potential future pain. If I stay, I'm opening myself up to a world of uncertainty. Can I handle the stress of nursing school, single motherhood, AND a partner struggling with addiction?

But then I think about Dakota's laugh and the way he looks at me sometimes, like I'm the only person in the world. The way Roman's face lights up when he sees him. Can I really walk away from that?

As I finally drag myself to bed, exhaustion settling into my bones, one thought keeps circling in my mind: Is love enough when history seems determined to repeat itself? And more importantly, am I strong enough to find out?

I set my alarm, knowing sleep will be elusive tonight. Tomorrow, Dakota will call when he's sober. Tomorrow, I'll have to start making decisions.

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