Page 71 of Blackout: Book Two

Chapter Twenty-three

Blackie

I waited a couple of days before I called Lacey. Every day I called Jack for an update. It was still too early to tell if the Lithium was working or not, but she hadn’t had any more episodes. The baby was healthy, and my wife was at peace. What more could a man want? I’ll tell you what he could want…he’d want to get the fuck out of rehab and be with her, that’s what he’d want.

He’d want it more than his next fucking breath.

Too bad we don’t always get what we want.

Instead, I passed the time writing Lacey and our daughter one email after another. Realizing I was closing in on over one hundred and fifty emails to Lacey and it would take her a damn long while to get through them, I decided the next time I spoke to her I’d give her the login information. Sunny agreed too and when I spoke with Jack, I had him run the idea past Dr. Spiegel. I didn’t want to disrupt her progress, but she thought it would help Lacey by restoring all the truths her heart knew. The truths her mind blocked out. In the last email, I typed everything I planned on saying while making amends. I thought it was a good way to end the cycle before I started proving my actions to her.

“You created an email account for me?” she questioned, mildly shocked. I can’t say that I blame her. The girl has never seen me use a computer.

“Yeah, I can’t take the credit for the idea, though. This guy in my group therapy session, Artie, came up with it. I thought it was fucking crazy at first but in the beginning, when I couldn’t call you, I decided to give a shot. There were so many things I wanted to say at different times, I’d just put them in an email and click send. I made one for the baby too, but that’s a work in progress. I plan on giving her the login information on her eighteenth birthday.”

“Her eighteenth birthday,” she repeated.

“She’ll be disappointed it’s not a car, but we’ll get her one of those too.”

“How is it possible?” she questioned.

“The car?”

“To love you more than I did the day I married you.”

“If you think you love me now just wait until you get to the email with the subject line that reads, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Is it completely romantic?”

“No, it’s completely dirty,” I volleyed. “Make sure you’re by yourself when you get to that one.”

“I love it when you’re dirty.”

“See, I won’t even have to beg you to marry me again after you read that one.”

“I can’t wait to marry you again,” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, not too many people get to relive the best day of their life, do they?”

I suppose she had a point.

Our conversation didn’t go on too much after that. I think mainly because she was eager to get to work on those emails. It actually worked out because I was expecting a visit from Schwartz.

I should’ve realized the arrogant fuck had no concept of time. Then again, I never met a person who charges by the hour who did. It’s how they make bank.

Still, waiting for the suit to arrive is grating on my nerves. I’m about to get up and go to the reception area when the door swings open.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear in a tailored suit and loafers that probably cost as much as my first motorcycle.

“God, I hate places like this,” he grunts. “Some woman tried to get me to donate a tree.”

Twenty bucks says it was Sunny.

I watch as he unbuttons his double-breasted suit and takes a seat, setting his leather briefcase on the table between us. His gaze rakes over me and he lifts an eyebrow.

“You look human.”

---