Page 75 of Read Between the Stars (Turn it Up Spinoff)

Kasey works her ass off every day to be her best self. When life threw me a curveball, I ran and hid, too afraid to do the work. That’s what needs to change. Kasey deserves the best version of me, and though that may not be the old me, or the interim me, I need to figure it out. I need to do the work. For her, and Luna, and for me.

The first few moments of daylight are making their appearance when Kasey and I finally give in and rest. I’m so spent, yet so fulfilled.

When the alarm goes off on my phone forcing me to peel my eyelids open, it alerts me my Uber will be here soon. I silence it and move off the futon as easily as I can without disturbing Kasey. I find my boxer-briefs and jeans, and as I’m pulling them up is when she stirs, turning over on her side to face me.

“Hey,” I whisper, sitting back down on the cushion to hover over her, soaking in as much of every detail of her as I can to hold me over until I can be with her again.

She simply smiles softly in response and takes the bracelet off her wrist and puts it over mine, releasing it with a playful snap.

“You never take this off,” I remind her.

“That’s right,” she confirms, “but I’m lending it to you. It has given me strength, kept me going, and always reminded me what I fight for every day. I’m going to let it do the same for you while you’re gone, and…” she raises a smartass eyebrow at me, “I want it back.”

I lightly twist the trinket that Luna made around my wrist as I look in Kasey’s eyes and give her my solemn vow.

“You will get it back. I promise.”

She smiles in response as I lean in to kiss her.

“Thank you,” I rasp against her lips.

I pull my shirt on and button it up before leaning over to pull on my shoes. I then turn back to tuck her in, hating to leave her alone and naked in our makeshift bed. With the blanket pulled up over her, I lean down to kiss her while reaching in the back pocket of my jeans.

“And I want this back,” I tease, when I find what I’m looking for and hand it to her. Her mouth drops open when she sees my truck key dangling in front of her, and it’s worth leaving it with her just to see her light up the way she is now. She looks like a kid on Christmas morning when she reaches up and snatches it, clutching it close to her chest.

That was a little fast.

“Are you serious?” she asks giddily.

“Of course I’m serious.”

“Sweet! I guess I can let you go then,” she playfully jabs.

“You’re going to pay for that when I get back,” I snicker, raising an eyebrow at her as I lean down closer.

“You know I’m only kidding,” she says. “I want you back here as soon as you can be, more than I want any truck.”

I take a moment to look at her, soak in her beauty as I caress my hand over her head.

“I love you,” I profess, “and when I see you again, it will be for always.”

“I love you,” she whispers back as I give her one last kiss. It’s soft and light, and we let it linger before I take the first steps down her porch, thinking of nothing but coming back.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Kasey

“I don’t knowwhat to do,” says the young woman with the slightly swollen belly sitting across the circle from me. “I’ve tried so hard to stay completely sober since I found out, but I’ve slipped twice and I feel like… the worst mother, and I’m not even a mother yet,” she gesticulates with her hands. I can see by her body language how desperate she feels, and how much of a failure she considers herself. I never slipped while I was pregnant but I remember how hard it was not to, and I find myself not judging this young woman across from me when she’s clearly trying so hard. After all… she’s here.

I remember the high heart rate, the restlessness, the sweating and the nausea that made me feel hollowed out, and how there were times I wanted to take just a little… just enough to make the madness happening to my body stop.

“He was the only person I had, and he left,” she continues. “He doesn’t want to have the baby, he just wants to get high and not be bothered by any kind of responsibility.”

Holy God.

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I look around and then down at my hands to make sure I haven’t actually been transported back to that time in my own life. I reach for my wrist to give my old faithful bracelet a twist, and when I don’t find the beads and the charms, quickly remember I don’t have it. A quick flutter of panic rises in my chest but dissipates just as quickly when I remember it’s in good hands, and while I might not have it on my wrist, I still have the little girl who made it. I still have her; because I’ve busted my ass for ten years to keep her, all the while tearing myself down for being a poor excuse for a mother, telling myself every time I slipped up, however few the occasions were, that I was a bad parent who didn’t deserve their child, just like this poor woman is doing to herself now, and I wish she’d see how much she’s worth, just by trying.

This young girl is pregnant and alone and dealing with the beast that is addiction on the daily, but what I see is a strong woman who is still standing, despite the beat down she’s taken. How can I have compassion for her and none for myself?

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