Page 62 of Blackout: Book Two

Chapter Twenty

Lacey

I made a colossal mistake that day I visited Blackie. I let my insecurities get the best of me. My mask slipped, and he saw me, the me I try to run from. In a flash, I erased the life we built together and all the years we spent loving one another. I took us back to the beginning of us. To the dark day when I was a girl fighting with her mind, begging an addict to notice her. To love her and take away her pain. But he isn’t that same man. He’s in recovery. But I’m still that girl who fights with her mind and during that visit, I was begging him to notice me. To recognize my pain and erase my doubts.

I was jealous.

There he was conquering his demons while I wrestled with mine. Logically I knew he wasn’t healed. That he will spend his whole life as a recovering addict. There will be days he struggles just like me. But he was getting the tools he needed to help himself. He was getting relief.

My relief comes in an orange bottle. It comes in the form of a pill and it’s nowhere in sight. Nine months didn’t seem so long when I threw that bottle at the wall. But every day that passes feels like a lifetime and I’m so tired of fighting.

I’m so tired of feeling worthless.

I tried to remind myself it was all for a good cause. I’d stand in front of the mirror, look myself in the eye and tell myself I was doing it for my daughter. I even recited all the possible birth defects taking Lithium could cause, thinking if I heard them with my own ears, it would help. That the sound of my voice would overpower the one in my head, encouraging me to hurt myself. I told myself if I hurt, she hurts. But I was losing sight of my daughter. I could feel her kick and watch her grow but the connection was fading, and I couldn’t stop it.

Blackie adhered to my call for help, just as he always does. He tried to reassure me that I was what he wanted and often asked if I was okay.

“Lacey, I might not be there with you physically, but I’m here. You can talk to me. If something is bothering you, we can work it out,” he said one night on the phone.

I so desperately wanted to believe him, but I was too ashamed to admit my truth. How could I tell the man who was getting well for our daughter that I was losing my will to bring her into the world? Instead of confessing my dark thoughts, I continued to pretend like everything was okay.

I have never welcomed the manic side of my disease more than I have in the last month. Those days when the switch flipped, were the days I gave my best performances. I went shopping with my mother and bought everything I saw. I agreed when my father suggested he turn my late brother’s bedroom into a nursery and when Blackie called on those days, we tossed baby names back and forth. To anyone watching, I was the poster child for expectant mothers everywhere.

Two days ago, I started my seventh month. It was also the day Layla gave birth to her and Pipe’s baby boy, Liam. As soon as she went into labor, Pipe called everyone and like any family, we all rushed to the hospital. Seeing Pipe and Layla so over the moon did nothing to help my failing mind. My maker reminded me Blackie wouldn’t walk out of the delivery room to a room full of waiting people and announce our daughter’s arrival. He wouldn’t hold my hand or cut the umbilical cord. No one would pass out cigars with him or gush with us over how perfect she was.

I had to leave the hospital and since then, I’ve been trying not to dwell on it. Especially because today is about Blackie and the progress he’s made. It’s about making amends and moving forward. It’s about the future.

I just hope my maker lets me be a part of it.

“Thank you all for coming today to support Dominic,” Sunny says, forcing me back to the moment.

“Dominic? Lady, we’re here for Blackie,” Riggs replies, nudging my father. “Did they lose him or something? Tell me we didn’t drive up here to be a bunch of posers and that they’re going to give us the right addict.”

“Let me guess,” Sunny says, touching a finger to her lips. “You’re Riggs, aren’t you?”

“How do you know my name?”

“Aside from the fact you’re wearing a name badge, Dominic has told me a lot about you.”

“Again, with this Dominic guy,” he mutters. “Do we know him? Is he a fan?”

“She’s talking about Blackie you asshole,” Wolf growls, slapping him upside the head before looking at my father. “I told you we shouldn’t have brought him.”

“And I told you Blackie requested he be here,” my father grunts.

“Can we just get on with it?” I ask.

That shuts everyone up and I can feel their eyes move to me.

They know.

They see the cracks in my armor.

“Before we go inside and Dominic makes his amends with each of you, it’s important for you all to understand the process. Each of you are here because he recognizes he’s wronged you in one way, shape or form. An apology is crucial in making amends, but it is simply not enough to undo the irreversible pain one’s addiction may have caused. For Dominic making amends is a step in working to restore goodwill to his relationships. While he has spent the last several months evaluating the extent of his wrongdoings, it is imperative that you’re open and honest with him. If you feel he’s missed something, now is the time to tell him. Make him understand the severity of his actions and the pain he’s caused you. Don’t be afraid to express yourself. Dominic knows reconciliation works only if both parties are truthful. You won’t break him,” she pauses to glance at each of us. “Does anyone have any questions?”

What if I’m the one that breaks?

“I have one,” Reina says, holding up her hand. “In the past, Blackie has blamed himself for things that were out of his control. If he apologizes for them, do we correct him?”

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