Page 69 of Unloved

He hides his face in the bedding, and I lift my hand to his head, playing with his hair, hopefully soothing him in the silence.

With my energy fairly depleted after the overdose, it takes little to no time for me to fall back asleep with Lennox wrapped around me and my hand buried in Samuel’s hair.

When I wake again, Samuel’s asleep, my hand back in his, and Lennox is still curled around me.

I feel so raw on the inside, almost too raw to talk, but there are things I need to say, things they deserve to hear.

“You’re thinking too hard.” Samuel’s voice distracts me from my plans. He rises up off the uncomfortable chair and stretches, his shirt riding up his stomach. My eyes follow every movement, my need for him the same as it’s always been. I hear him chuckle and notice he’s been watching me watch him.

He bends over and kisses my forehead. “I’m going to the bathroom. Do you want me to bring you anything back? Food? Drink? Snacks?”

I reach for the collar of his shirt and tug him to me till his eyes are level with mine. “Just you. I just want you to come back.”

“Always, baby.” He kisses me. “Always.”

When he walks out the door, Lennox sighs in my neck. “He’s gorgeous, right?”

The comment is so unexpected it makes me laugh. And then I cry, holding on to Lennox when he feels my tears, because I almost gave this up. And for what?

For a piece of shit like my father?

It’s at this point Samuel walks back in the room, eyeing us curiously. When he reaches the bed, I hold my hand out to him and drag him to us. I know it’s almost impossible that the three of us will fit on this single bed, but Samuel understands the assignment and puts his arms over the both of us.

I grab Lennox’s hand, shaping it into a fist and then rub it clockwise over my chest.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” he says into our makeshift cocoon. “We just want you to be okay. But if you’re not okay, we still want to be around for that too.”

* * *

I’ve been here for two days, and thank God I’m leaving soon. Because I’m about to rip my hair out. Samuel and Lennox have been here every waking hour, but it’s been impossible to have all the important conversations and say all the important words. I’ve fed them dribs and drabs of where my headspace is, and they just completed my psychiatric evaluation confirming that I’m not a danger to myself or to anyone else.

It’s all good news, but I just don’t feel good about any of it.

A knock on the hospital door interrupts my thoughts, and when neither a doctor, a nurse, or Samuel and Lennox walk in, I look around, only to freeze when I see my mother in the doorway.

“Mom?”

“Rhys,” she says, her voice as detached as ever. “I heard you were here.”

“You did?”

“When your son has a reputation for engaging in a lot of drug use, you use those connections you have and make sure someone calls whenever they see him.”

“I didn’t know you cared so much,” I say sarcastically.

She offers me a pinched smile. “I know your father visited you the other day. And told you about Japan.”

One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi.

When she doesn’t elaborate, her presence begins to make me feel uncomfortable. My mother is my father’s puppet. Once upon a time I believed she could’ve been a beautiful woman, with maternal instincts and the ability to love unconditionally and endlessly. But now…

“Is there something you came for?” I ask.

Samuel and Lennox choose this moment to walk in, and they both waste no time flanking me. Their presence calms down the rattle inside my chest.

“Kayla,” she says robotically. “She’s been asking about you… a lot.”

“And what?”

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