Page 26 of Could Have Been Us
“Yeah, it’s something. He’s not coming out.”
He raises his brows. “You think I should get him?”
“Yes. I don’t want to see him naked.”
“And I do?”
I shrug. “Better you than me.”
Before we can argue about it more, Samuel pushes the door open. He still is a mess, but at least he doesn’t smell like a dumpster soaked in alcohol. I guide him to the bed, thankful he listened.
“Here, eat.” I shove the plate into his hands.
“I’m sorry, Stella.” Samuel’s voice breaks. “I wish I was stronger.”
“You are stronger,” I remind him. “Misty loved you. She always had faith in you. You have to stop drinking and start taking care of things.”
A tear falls down his cheek. “I don’t know how to do this anymore. She handled everything. She was my everything and now she’s dead and I can’t do it.”
He keeps saying this, but he’s forgetting why he has no choice but to pull his shit together. “Kinsley needs you to do it, Samuel.”
Samuel puts the food on the side table and sinks into the bed, his eyes closing as he clutches a pillow. “I . . . just . . .”
“Shh,” I croon. Not wanting him to repeat what he seems to think is his new mantra. He can. I know he can. He just needs to sober up and try again.
* * *
“You’re going to be okay,” I tell Samuel while we sit at the diner.
After Kinsley left for school, I went back over, picked him up, and we started the mission to get him back to the Samuel before Misty’s death.
Samuel called his boss, who lost his wife two years ago. Thankfully, Samuel was granted a bit of time to get himself together. The job is shut down for a permit issue anyway, so it works out. He needs to heal and find a way through his grief.
Then I hired a cleaning company that will come twice a week for the first month and then weekly after that. Mickey, my new Georgia best friend, has agreed to call me if Samuel shows up at the bar again, get him home, and sober him up. For a very nice price.
As much as I hate the idea of asking someone else to look out for Samuel, there isn’t much I can do from five hours away.
The worst part is that he’s alone. He has no family close by, and no friends outside of work. Everything that Samuel has was Misty’s doing. She knew everyone’s name, birthday, and anniversary. She ran their home, always taking care of life, and he doesn’t know what to do now.
And they say men are stronger than women.
“I’m not the same as I was,” he says, taking a sip of the coffee.
“No one is after they lose the love of their life.”
I would know. The girl I was who thought money and fairy tales were possible died the day I gave up my child. I learned that nothing I had was worth anything in the end. My father made me believe I had no choice, forced my hand, and in doing so, he changed me.
“I just want to be numb,” Samuel admits.
“This isn’t you. This isn’t the man Misty talked about. You’re the man who worked for everything and was always there for her. Now, your daughter needs you.”
He shakes his head. “Your daughter.”
I blink, unsure of what he means because Kinsley is his. “I’m . . . I’m not . . .”
“No, you are. She needs a mother. She needs someone who will take care of her. Do you know who cleaned the kitchen? The bathroom? Do you know who made sure there was breakfast last week? That’s not what a father allows. That’s . . . I can’t.”
I shift in my seat. This conversation isn’t going where I thought it would. “You are the only father she has ever known. I came here to help, but I gave her to you, and youareher parent.”
