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  Next time put your things up, Love Trinity

  Jeron would be getting off work soon, so I went and picked Sawyer up from the babysitter. I got Sawyer in his car seat, and when I looked up Jeron was pulling up beside me. I couldn’t look at him, so I told Sawyer to wave at daddy and then I pulled out of the driveway.

  I fought back the floodgates the entire way to Beth’s. I’d felt numb for so long, why couldn’t that continue. Instead the panic and pain flooded me, and I prayed I’d make it to Beth’s before I lost it.

  The phone calls started before I even made it to Beth’s, but I just turned my phone off. When I pulled into her driveway, Beth was standing on the porch, her arms crossed. I got out and I finally broke, falling in her front yard, losing it. Her arms wrapped around me while she called out to Marcus.

  Marcus pulled Sawyer out of the car and took him inside so I could lose my shit without him watching. Beth held me while I cried and cried. When I finally got it together, I told her what had happened and Beth started crying with me at that point.

  I may not be drug savvy, but I knew enough. Meth wasn’t something to play with, and I was scared. I was scared for my husband, for myself, and for my son. Images of that glass pipe and what it meant flashed through my head; I remembered all the lonely nights, and him dodging my questions. I didn’t know where the future would lead us, nor did I know to what extreme my husband was at, but I had an idea.

  Knowing your husband had a secret second life is something that you can’t get over. Even now, I wonder how dumb I truly was to not realize what was going on. He had this huge secret that took me years to clue into, and that only happened after he left out a huge sign for me to see. Maybe he wanted to be caught, and maybe I just didn’t want to see what was going on.

  It took me a week to finally agree to see Jeron. He’d started calling soon after I got to Beth’s, but I wasn’t ready to talk to him. When he would show up, Marcus or Beth would talk him down and send him on his way. The only reason I was willing to talk to him now was that Sawyer was asking for his daddy, and regardless of what was going on at that time, Jeron loved his son.

  So, there we sat, staring at each other in a nearly empty diner. Neither one of us spoke for the first five minutes; I don’t think either of us knew what to say. It’s not that I didn’t have a lot of questions, but how do you ask the love of your life if he’s an addict?

  “How’s Sawyer?” Jeron croaked while staring down at the table.

  “He misses you,” I murmured staring at the old tiled floor.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “For being caught? Or for bringing it into our home?”

  “Honestly?”

  I barked out a laugh. “That would be nice for once.”

  He sighed softly. “For ever touching the shit to begin with.”

  I swallowed, which was difficult with the lump in my throat. “Why did you?”

  He turned a sugar packet over and over with his fingers. “I don’t know; it was after my mom died, and I just wanted to forget, ya know?”

  “No, I don’t know,” I muttered.

  “It was just a way to escape,” he sighed, “then you and I started hanging out and I didn’t do it as often anymore.”

  “So,” I cleared my throat, “so why did you start again?”

  He dropped the sugar packet and scrubbed both hands across his face. “It just got to be too much― I needed to forget for a little while.”

  I wanted to scream at him; I wanted to hurt him. What did he have to forget? Me? Our child, our life, what was so fucking hard about our life that he had to forget? Instead of lashing out, I took deep breaths, because screaming at him in the middle of a diner would have accomplish nothing.

  “Meth, right?” I asked, just because I needed to know.

  “Yea, sometimes, most of the time,” he shrugged, “sometimes heroin or coke, just depends on what I can get.”

  I nodded and stared down at the coffee cup in my hands.

  “I’m going to stop,” he whispered, though I don’t think he believed that any more than I did.

  “Well, we’ll be here for you when you do,” I whispered back and I meant it. If he came to me tomorrow and told me he was done, and meant it, I would move the Earth to help him. Only he wasn’t ready, and I didn’t know if he ever would be, which scared me.

  “I want you and Sawyer to go back home, I’ll move out, you two should be in your home. I’m the one who’s fucked up.”

  “Where will you go?” I asked quietly.

  “I’ve got some friends I can stay with.” He reached over and ran his thumb over the top of my hand. “I’m sorry, Trin.”

  I gave him a sad smile. “I know you are.”

  “Can, I uhm, still see Sawyer?”

  “I, uhm, fuck.” I stared down where his hand still laid on mine. “We’ll take it slow, but I can’t have this around him, Jeron, you can’t see him if you’re high.” I didn’t know what to do with regards to Sawyer; I didn’t want to keep them apart, but on the other side what was the right thing for Sawyer? Would being away from his father hurt him more than the possibility of a tweaking Jeron on our door step? Parenting was hard, and I didn’t think I could find a book on how to deal with parenting while your spouse was a drug addict on Amazon.

  “I wouldn’t do that, he said adamantly. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, or you.”

  “You already have,” I bit back a whimper.

  “I love you, Trin” he said with a sad smile.

  I attempted to smile back. “I know,” I whispered, “I love you too.” And the sad thing was that I knew Jeron did love me, and I loved him. I just didn’t know if it was enough anymore.

  We spent awhile longer just sitting together with our thoughts, trying to hold on to what we had, but we both could feel that our foundation was crumbling. The thing was, if I didn’t have Sawyer, I knew I would have stuck it out with Jeron. I would have fought for him harder, but I had a child to protect. And so I forced myself out of our booth, kissed my husband softly on the lips and walked away.

  Becoming a mom taught me my capacity to love, which was enormous. I could understand why women said they would kill for their kids, because nothing is more important than Sawyer’s safety and happiness. Becoming a single mother taught me my own strength. One moment I thought I would co-parent my child, and the next I realized that it was up to me. It was my job to protect this angel, and that wasn’t a small job.

  After our meeting in the coffee shop, Jeron moved out, and Sawyer and I moved back in. It was strange at first, living in this house without Jeron. He’d always been there, a fixture that I expected to see sitting in the recliner watching a movie. A phantom that should have been next to me in our bed.

  Sawyer and I slowly acclimated to the changes in our lives. Jeron would come over some evenings to play with Sawyer, help bathe him and put him to bed. I didn’t trust him enough to take Sawyer out of the house, and I hated that.

  Neither of us brought up divorce, I thought about it sometimes late at night when I couldn’t sleep. I shunned the thought though, because I wasn’t ready to imagine a life without Jeron as my husband, not yet at least. Except late at night I couldn’t stop the thoughts that crept in, I didn’t know what he was doing out there, and that frightened me.

  Beth wasn’t taking things with her brother any better than I was. Their once close relationship was strained, and I felt guilty. I was the one to shine a light on the problem after all.

  While Beth and Jeron’s relationship was strained, Beth and I got even closer. Which only made the guilt worse. We bonded over our fear for Jeron, our anger at him, and our love of him.

  It was a month after Jeron moved out that I first heard the rumors. I tried as always to ignore them, only to have them thrust in my face over and over. There were so many, and I couldn’t block them out. Rumors and gossip about Jeron dealing, Jeron living with another woman, and wild parties where Jeron would have sex with wome
n in public.

  When Jeron came over, I didn’t ask questions, and he didn’t talk about what he did while away. It became painful to look at him though; the man I knew was slowly fading away. I could see it when I looked into his hollow eyes― the only time I saw a flicker of emotion was when he was playing with Sawyer. So, often when he was over I did things around the house and left the two of them alone.

  Sawyer’s second birthday was upon us quickly, and I planned a barbeque in the back yard to celebrate. Marcus agreed to man the grill while Beth and I decorated and tried to keep the birthday boy clean. Everything was going great; Chad, his wife and daughter showed up, which surprised me. I wasn’t particularly close to Chad, but he gave me a huge hug and told me he was there if I needed him, which I appreciated.

  It turned out I would need him sooner than I ever imagined. Half way through the party, Jeron finally showed, and not alone. Draped on his arm was the same girl that had kissed him the year before on my birthday. I swallowed back the bile when I watched him shove his tongue down her throat.

  The girl, I later found out her name was Rachel, looked vastly different from the last time I saw her. She’d lost close to thirty pounds, her hair was greasy; I almost didn’t recognize her. Everything would have been fine though if she hadn’t approached my son and told him she was his new mommy. Until that moment, I tried to ignore both of them, but I couldn’t ignore that.

  I snatched my son up, put him on my hip and walked him into the house. When I walked past Jeron, I glared at him, but didn’t say anything. Sawyer had his head tucked into my neck and I could feel his tears track down my skin. I knew he was confused, tired, and I just wanted to get him someplace safe and calm.

  I sat down with him in the rocking chair in his room, and began rocking him while telling him the story of three billy goats gruff. He calmed down, and his eyes began to droop; I let out a small sigh. Then there was a crashing sound, and two men started yelling; Sawyer’s head popped up with a small bleat. I tucked him closer to my chest, kissed the side of his head and kept rocking him.

  The voices got closer, and then there was Jeron, red faced staring at me. Behind him stood Chad, his lip was trailing blood where it had been split open. I gasped and tucked Sawyer’s head even firmer against me.

  “I want to see my son!” Jeron barked.

  Sawyer started struggling against me, and I held him tightly. “Go home, Jeron.”

  “Trinity, I want to see my son― you can’t keep me from him.”

  I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Jeron, go home, we can talk about this later.”

  “I’m tired of playing by your fucking rules!” he shouted, “he’s my kid and I have the right to see him when I want, where I want.”

  Jeron started thrashing around and that’s when I noticed Chad had an arm around his chest holding him back. Chad kept trying to talk to Jeron quietly; Sawyer was screaming and crying, while kicking me. I gasped when one of his feet connected with my ribs but I didn’t let him go.

  Jeron started screaming about seeing his son and Chad started wrestling him out of the room. I couldn’t believe this was happening, I just sat there struggling with my son, watching as Chad, and now Marcus, forced Jeron out of Sawyer’s room. I heard sounds of crashing, yells, then a door slamming shut, and I cried while my son cried.

  A moment later Chad came back, the blood on his lip wiped away. “He didn’t know what he was doing, Trinity,” Chad said as he sat down on the floor beside me.

  “Don’t make excuses for him,” I whispered over my son’s whimpers.

  Chad let his hands hang between his bent knees and stared down at the floor. “He’s gotten worse since he left here.”

  “Is that my fault?” I snapped.

  Chad shook his head. “No, I don’t blame you. Hell, I’ve wondered for a while why you let him stay as long as you did.”

  “I’ve never seen him like that before,” I murmured. “He scared me, Chad.”

  “I know,” he said quietly.

  “Who was she?”

  “You don’t know?”

  I just shook my head no.

  “That’s Rachel, he moved in with her shortly after he left here.”

  “Oh.”

  “He doesn’t love her, Trinity. Hell, I don’t think he even likes her.”

  I smiled sadly. “I kicked him out, Chad.”

  “Yea, but you’re still in love with him.”

  “No, I’m still in love with my husband, and that man wasn’t him.”

  “I wa my dada,” whispered Sawyer.

  I closed my eyes against the tears and kissed my son’s blond curls lightly. “I know, baby. I want your daddy, too.”

  The rest of Sawyer’s birthday was overshadowed by what had happened, though we tried our best to pretend. Sawyer though seemed just as depressed as we were, and often asked for his daddy. He cheered up though when cake and presents were brought out. And seeing his daddy’s smile on his sweet round face, and his daddy’s blue eyes with the starburst of gold, helped ease the ache in my own heart for a short while.

  You hear weekly about how this rock star is going into rehab, or this actor was caught with drugs. We hear about the addict, but never the addict’s family. How their addiction affects those around them, those are the stories I needed to hear. Because with everything I had read, and everyone I spoke with, nothing I did would cause Jeron to get help. The only thing that would have done that was Jeron deciding he wanted help. What I needed to know was that I wasn’t alone, that others had gone through something similar and came out the other side mostly intact. I knew better than to hope that this wouldn’t change me, because it already had.

  We didn’t see Jeron again after the birthday fiasco until Christmas, and when he showed up on my doorstep, I was weary to let him in. Beth was all about sending him on his way, but I couldn’t do that to Sawyer. Sawyer missed his father, so after making sure he was alone, I reluctantly opened the door for him.

  The entire day I pasted on a fake smile and watched as my son played with his dad. His laughs ringing through the house as they chased each other and played with new toys. Beth didn’t agree with my decision, but what was I supposed to do? Jeron was sober and on his best behavior. I couldn’t deny him access to his son when he was like this.

  Beth and Marcus had gotten engaged over Thanksgiving, and Beth was now three months pregnant. When Jeron found out, I saw the flash of sadness cross his face, but he quickly covered it with a grin. He hugged his sister tightly and thumped Marcus on the back, but I knew it was fake. A part of me wanted to hug Jeron tightly and tell him everything was going to be okay, only I wasn’t sure if it was.

  After Christmas, Jeron started coming over again regularly. I’d noticed changes in him before, but I saw them even more, he’d lost weight and his clothes were hanging off of him. I was even more concerned when I noticed sores on his arms. I knew from the research I had done what those meant, along with him constantly scratching at his arms, he was now shooting up and needing his next hit.

  I didn’t enroll in spring classes; I’d completed all of the courses I could for my nursing degree. Now I’d have to go into an actual program to finish, only that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. Jeron and I had planned for me to quit my job when the time came, the closest school to home was an hour away. I was supposed to focus on school and Sawyer. While the lack of my income would have hurt, we’d have been able to make it, barely. It was only two years of school before I’d have had my degree and be able to find a job.

  It all seemed so easy back then, lying in our bed rubbing my protruding stomach, planning for a future that now seemed like it would never happen. That was almost four years ago and now I laugh at how silly and naive I was. We’d even talked about having another child around this point; we wanted them close in age.

  I remember it was raining that night; I was sitting on the couch thumbing through Sawyer’s baby book. The picture of Jeron and I staring down
at a newborn Sawyer held my full attention. I ran my fingers across Jeron’s face, wondering where everything went wrong. The wind blowing and the rain was pelting against the windows, a typical spring thunderstorm. Only this night turned out to be anything but typical.

  I heard a bang on the door and jumped. Then I realized it was someone knocking, I slowly walked toward it and looked out the peep hole. When I saw a drenched Jeron standing there I was nervous. I didn’t know which version of him I would get, but I couldn’t let him just stand out there in the rain.

  I slowly opened the door, and Jeron’s wide blown eyes stared back at me. I gasped and tried to shut the door, but he pushed his hand out and shoved it open. I staggered back, but he kept coming, pushing my body against the wall. I remember his face was unshaven, and he was even thinner than the last time I saw him.

  It was his stark glare though that frightened me. Before I even realized what happened, he’d shoved me against the wall, his hand wrapped around my throat. He started mumbling things that I couldn’t quite understand, but his hand tightened around my neck. I tried shoving him off, struggling against his grasp, but he only pressed himself against me and increased his hold on my throat.

  “You bitch,” he muttered, “you’re trying to steal him.”

  I shook my head as best as I could, I didn’t know what he was talking about. He just kept rambling and then started yelling, his spittle flying out of his mouth onto my face. Black spots were starting to flicker around the edges of my vision, and I heard Sawyer start to cry. I tried fighting back harder, but my limbs were getting heavy.

  Jeron shook me hard, and then let go. I dropped to the floor and watched as he paced around the living room. I slowly got up and started to crawl toward Sawyer’s room, but Jeron shot me a look and I stopped.