Page 92 of Blackout: Book Two

Mainly because I wish she’d see how good she’s been to her.

“You can be too. You just need to allow yourself the chance,” I tell her. “Lace, think about everything you’ve done for her already. Everything you went through to make sure she was healthy. Everything I could never do for her, you did. Everything she needed from her mother, she got. I think she misses you.”

“I miss her too,” she sobs. “I miss feeling her inside of me. I miss talking to her.”

“She’s right here, baby. All you gotta do is reach for her.”

“I don’t want you to think I don’t love her.”

“I know you do.”

“I love her so much,” she cries. “I swear, I do.”

Pausing to wipe her tears, she lowers her hand so that it rests on my forearm.

So close and yet so far.

Her lashes lower as she takes in a breath. Opening her eyes, she glances down at our little girl, safe and content in my arms, staring up at her mommy.

“Oh, Jacqueline, mommy loves you,” she sobs, laying her head on my shoulder as she inches her hand away from my arm and closer to the baby’s hand. “Please, don’t think I don’t. I’m so sorry. So, so, sorry.”

“Ssh…” I murmur, kissing the top of her head. “You don’t have to be sorry. You just need to be well.” As the words leave my lips, I realize how many times they’ve been passed between us. “I’m going to call Dr. Spiegel and set up an appointment. Maybe your meds need to be adjusted.”

“No,” she shouts, lifting her head from my shoulder. Her eyes are wide with fear as she shakes her head. “I don’t want to go back there.”

“What?”

“She’s going to put me in the hospital again, Blackie, and while I may be struggling with Jacqueline, I don’t want to be apart from her. I don’t want her to think I’ve abandoned her.”

I understand that because I felt the very same way. But in the same sense, I needed to be away, to be well, and it was Lacey who made me realize that. Suddenly a memory of us flashes before me and I’m transcended back to when she witnessed Jack off his meds and suffering through a mental break.

“I want you to hold me. I want you to love me and more than that, I want you to promise me if I ever get like that, you’ll make me get treatment. That you’ll never let our kids see me the way I saw my dad today.”

“Lace—”

“Promise me, Blackie, and I swear, right here, right now, that I’ll do the same. I’ll never let our son or daughter see you at your weakest.”

“I promise.”

Shaking the memory from my head, I look at her.

No more promises.

Only actions.

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