Page 110 of Ink Me Three Times
“Hey,” Jesse says quietly, his voice firm. “I’m not gonna lie, man. That’s a real fear, and I get it. But if she’s coming for custody, you’re not fighting this alone. You’ve got me, you’ve got the whole damn town. We’ll back you up. You’ve got a network here. Hell, you’ve got people who would fight tooth and nail for you and Penny.”
I close my eyes for a second, but it doesn’t help. The tightness in my chest won’t loosen. The fear doesn’t ease. I just keeppicturing Trina showing up one day, walking back into Penny’s life like nothing happened, ready to rip everything apart again.
“I don’t want to drag everyone into this,” I say, the words heavy. “I can’t keep asking for help. I have to handle this myself. I have to protect Penny.”
Jesse doesn’t let up, his voice steady but insistent. “You’re not in this alone, Freddie. You never have been, and you’re not gonna be now. You’ve got people who care about you, who care about Penny. You think Mitchell and Timothy won’t have your back if it comes to a custody battle? They know Trina better than anyone from their high school days. I’m sure they have dirt galore.”
“I’m scared I’ll fail her, Jesse,” I admit, the weight of it almost unbearable. “I’m scared I won’t be able to protect Penny from everything. I don’t even know what the right thing to do is.”
Jesse puts a hand on my shoulder. He doesn’t let me pull away. “You won’t fail her. You’ve been doing this alone for so long, but you don’t have to anymore. We’re all in this with you.”
For the first time tonight, I feel like I can breathe, even if it’s just a little bit. The storm inside me doesn’t feel so impossible to weather.
I take a deep breath, the fear still there, but just a little bit easier to carry. “Thanks, Jesse.”
“Anytime, man,” he says quietly, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “And hey, no matter what happens, I’ll be there. You’ve got more support than you think.”
But will that be enough to get me through this?
I seriously hope so.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Ivy
I wakeup feeling like I’ve been dragged through a storm.
The kind of storm that leaves you drenched, shivering, and completely wiped out. My body aches with every movement, and my head is pounding as if someone’s drumming on the inside of my skull. The dizziness is still there, lurking at the edges, the aftermath of spinning too fast in circles.
I roll over in bed, hoping for a few more minutes of sleep, but the moment my feet hit the floor, everything tilts. I grab onto the nightstand to steady myself, squeezing my eyes shut to try and fight off the nausea that surges.
Pickle, ever the perceptive little furball, comes over and nuzzles my leg with a soft whine, his big brown eyes staring up at me with that concerned look of his.
“You’re sweet, Pick,” I murmur, patting him gently on the head. But I can’t help feeling a little bit irritated by how off everything feels.
I shuffle to the kitchen, hoping to make myself some coffee and shake off this funk. Maybe I’m just burnt out from the past few days, the tattoo convention, the awkward tension with everyone, and the weirdness at the end…
I’m halfway to the bathroom when the smell of something sizzling in the skillet hits me. It’s Jesse, he must be awake already, making breakfast. Normally, I’d be excited about his cooking. He’s a pro in the kitchen, and his eggs are legendary.
But today?
The second the scent of bacon wafts through the air, my stomach does a full flip, and I have no choice but to stumble to the sink.
The dry heaves come first, my body trying to expel whatever’s not sitting right, but it’s not just the bacon. It’severything.
I race into the bathroom and grip the edge of the sink, trying to steady myself, but it’s no use. My stomach turns in a way that makes me feel as if I’m about to lose everything inside me.
"Okay, this is... this is not just burnout," I mutter to myself, trying to breathe through it. The dry heaving finally subsides, but now there’s a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Pickle’s still hovering by my feet, his head tilting in concern.
“What is wrong with me?” I ask him, as if he could possibly answer.
But as I lean back against the wall, it hits me, something I’ve been trying to ignore. This isn’t just exhaustion or stress.
I haven’t had my period in a while, and that sinking feeling in my gut starts to grow, as if it’s pushing a thought forward that I’m desperately trying to avoid.
No.
