One More Chance
Page 70
Kristi slammed out of the stockroom, and I kicked a bunch of empty boxes on the floor. I had nothing else to throw my anger at, nothing else to throw my depression at. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t think about anything else except the hurt I had caused everyone around me. I’d fucked up in more ways than I could count, and it felt like I was still falling, still spiraling. Still not at the end of the havoc that had been unleashed on my life.
I sat down in a chair and put my head in my hands, openly sobbing as my chest jumped with my heaves. I hadn’t thought I could hurt as much as I did in that very moment.
I knew Kristi was right. Fucking hell, she was always right. But the hurt was immense. Vomit rose up my throat, and I stood up from the chair, rushing to the employee bathroom in the corner. I fell to my knees and thrust my face into the toilet bowl, vomiting up the one meal I’d forced myself to eat all weekend. Breakfast and coffee came up, filling the water in front of me as tears streamed down my face.
“That’s it. It’s okay. I’ve got you, sweetheart.”
I heard Kristi’s voice behind me as something cold came down on my neck.
“Get it all out. You need to. You’ve kept it all inside for far too long.”
“He’ll never—c-c-come back.”
“Yes, he will. Just give him time.”
“He’ll never—l-love me.”
“He does love you, Ana. I swear he does.”
“It hurts—so much—I can’t—”
I continued to heave even though there was nothing there.
“I’ve got you,” Kristi whispered. “No matter what, I’ll always have you.”
I spit into the toilet before I flushed it, then sat on my ass. Kristi threaded her arm around me and pulled me close, sinking my soiled cheek onto her shoulder. She kissed the top of my head as I continued to cry, unleashing eight years of stress, sadness, and exhaustion. Everything I had never coped with—everything I had never addressed—poured through my eyes and onto her shoulder as she whispered sweet nothings in my ear.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe with me. Brody’s fine. He’s eating a snack with Jasmine. You’re the greatest mother I know. You’ll get through this like you always do.”
The only thing I could think was that I wished Tyler was the one comforting me. I wished Tyler was the one saying those things. I wished Tyler was the one kissing the top of my head.
Which made me feel even worse.
Tyler
I sat in my office and stared out the window. I should’ve called Ana back the other day, but she couldn’t have called at a worse possible time. I hadn’t really been meeting with a client. I had been in the middle of my mother’s doctor telling me that neither I or my father was a match for my mother.
Which meant all we could do was sit back and hope that a donor came along. And with my mother’s penchant for alcohol and no precedent set that she wanted to get better, she was at the bottom of the transplant list for livers that became available.
The situation looked bleak.
I just didn’t know what to do. As I sat there with my hands cupped over my mouth, I didn’t know what my next move was. Did I call Ana like I wanted to and talk with her about it? Did I start a local search on my own for a liver donor? Did I bribe the doctors to try to get her up the damn list?
While I didn’t know what I could do, I knew what I wanted to do.
I wanted Brody to meet his grandmother. I wanted my mother to meet him before she passed away—in case she did. I didn’t want Brody to grow up thinking he only had one set of grandparents who would love him and care for him. I wanted him to know that my parents would accept him and cherish him just like Ana’s parents did.
I swiveled around in my chair and slid my paperwork into my briefcase, not caring if it got messed up. It could look however it wanted while going into my file cabinets.
Then I set off for the hospital.
I had no idea how my parents were going to react to my having a child, but I knew one thing: my mother would be pissed. For some reason, she had never been a fan of Ana in the first place. I blamed it on the alcohol clouding her judgment, but I knew breaking this kind of news to her wouldn’t go over well. I called my dad from the car and told him I was on my way, that I had big news I wanted to talk to both of them about.