Page 17 of Always You

Whether she meant for me to see Alex again, or if it was fate or something, I couldn’t tell, but she’d wanted me here so I could figure things out.

“Vocational training?” I latched onto the concept, a flicker of interest igniting despite my attempts to remain detached.

“Uh huh,” Marcus continued with more enthusiasm, as if he’d sensed the shift in my demeanor. “We have partnershipswith local businesses, trade schools, even online courses, if there’s something specific you’re interested in. And the community projects… they’re a way to begin feeling connected again, to make a difference not just to the people you help, but to yourself.”

Making a difference. It had been a long time since I believed I could do that. “And the therapy?” I asked, but the word was still a hurdle I wasn’t sure I could clear.

“It’s a cornerstone of the program,” Marcus admitted. “But it’s not what you might be picturing. We work with professionals who understand where you’re coming from. It’s about healing at your own pace, finding coping strategies, and moving forward.”

Move forward.Another concept that seemed foreign after years of doing what I was told, killing, hurting… Marcus’s description of the program painted a picture of a future I hadn’t allowed myself to envision. Accepting the room and the program felt like stepping onto a path I wasn’t sure I was ready to follow. Yet, the alternative was a return to the streets, to the so-called freedom from my past life that had cost me everything.

“Is this what Harper wanted for me?” The question slipped out, a whisper of doubt seeking reassurance.

Marcus tilted his head. “Harper?”

I swallowed. “My daughter. She…” I reached into my pocket, digging for the tattered wallet that only held two things. One was a picture of me holding Harper when she’d been three, her blonde hair in pigtails. And the other was the card she’d given me with the Guardian Hall details. I pulled out the latter and held it out to him, and he took it, turning it over to see the four words Harper had written on the back.

I love you, Dad.

Four words that had kept me from giving in.

Marcus met my gaze, his expression softening. “Do you see her?”

I shook my head. “Her mom won’t allow it now.”

Marcus’s eyes narrowed. “You know she has no right to stop you from seeing your daughter. Unless there’s a legal reason you shouldn’t?”

“No, there’s nothing legal, but my ex is right. Harper doesn’t deserve to have to deal with my bad parts.” Like my night terrors, and the bits left of me after being shattered into a million pieces through war. Marcus didn’t say anything trite about how I deserved my daughter in my life, probably because he knew I’d argue.

Harper was my life, and I would protect her or die trying.

“Harper gave it to me and said she wanted me to find peace. She’s sixteen now, and I haven’t… I didn’t… I’m not good enough…”

Marcus tried not to react, but I saw his jaw tighten. I was sure he had an entire load of things he could say to me when I was being hard on myself, and hell, I bet he wanted to defend me, but I didn’t need all of that.

My exwasright.

I wasn’t good enough to be in Harper’s life.

At least not right now.

I needed to find my way back to the kid I’d been—the one who loved to read, saved up to buy Lego sets and books, and sat for hours in a tree house with my old friend.

I needed to take a step.

One.

A step toward peace and the man I used to be. The thought was overwhelming, the possibilities too vast to comprehend. But, as I sat in the medical room with Marcus, the decision seemed to make itself.

“Okay,” I said, the word barely audible. “Okay, I’ll… I’ll try it.”

Marcus’s smile was gentle and encouraging. “That’s all we ask, Jazz.”

As he discussed what came next, the logistics of moving rooms, and what my days might look like, I felt a tremor of something unfamiliar—perhaps hope or the first stirrings of belief that there might be a way out of the darkness.

Accepting the room and the program was more than a commitment to stay at Guardian Hall. It was a promise to me. To the potential for change and healing. It was a daunting prospect, but as I left the medical room to embark on this new chapter, I realized it was also the first decision I had made in a long time that genuinely felt like my own.

When I went toward the kitchen, lost in thought, I glimpsed someone sitting at a computer with their back to me—Alex.

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