Look After Me (2 page)

Sitting next to Paula is a guy who is probably in his mid-twenties. He’s a skinhead with tattoos covering every inch of his arms. He’s shaky and pale, and looks as if he is moments away from hurling. “Desperate,” he trembles.

The discussion continues around the circle. I roll my eyes when one guy says he’s ‘horny,’ which gets a good laugh from the majority of the circle and a few blushes from some of the women. Eventually, my turn arrives and Addison returns her eyes to me. I’m silent. I have no idea what to say. I’m feeling so many emotions that it’s hard to pinpoint just one. I’m angry, pissed off, broken, lonely, hurt, fucked up . . .
Should I keep going?

“Sebastian, how are you feeling today?” Addison’s voice cuts through my inner turmoil and I look at her.

“Empty,” I grumble, finally picking my chosen word of the day. I slump back in my seat and gaze out of the window at the open garden, fading the rest of the group discussion from my mind. When the hour is up, I go to stand and head towards my room but I’m stopped in my tracks when Addison steps in front of me.

“Sebastian, have you got a minute?” I simply nod and stand back, letting the other residents pass by. When the room is empty, Addison takes a seat in one of the nearby chairs and pats the seat beside her. I sit next to her and turn to face her.

“I didn’t want to speak to you in front of the others, but is everything okay? You seem a little distracted today.”

“Do you mean am I craving the coke that put me here in the first place?” I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but it just comes out automatically. It’s like a filter switch I have no control over. Luckily, she doesn’t take offense at my harsh question.

“No, that wasn’t what I was talking about. I can see how far you’ve come. Physically you’re doing great. You just seem very distant, and I’m just a little worried. Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”

I think about opening up my wounds to her, but as tempting as that sounds, I’m not ready. “I’m not gonna lie and say I’m doing good because I’m not . . . But I’m not ready to talk about it. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to talk about it.”
It hurts too much.

She gives a nod of understanding. “I get that. I do. Do you know why I became a rehab counselor? In my younger years, I experimented a lot with recreational drugs. You name it, I took it. I was stupid. Sixteen years old and I was throwing my life away. I only realized how stupid it was when a friend of mine took a bad ecstasy pill and died. That day scared me enough to force myself into rehab. I was determined not to end up like my friend. It was hard at first but do you know what pulled me through, and what helped me be the person I am today? Talking. Opening up to someone about my pain. You can’t keep your emotions bottled up. It will destroy you and I’d hate to see you relapse, but if you keep yourself bottled up, it’s a route you might find yourself on.”

She pauses for a moment before continuing. “This is why I’m here—why I became a counselor. I’ve been there. I’ve been in your shoes.”

I’m pretty sure she hasn’t been in my shoes.

Hasn’t stood three feet away from the love of her life . . . watching her soul mate kissing the living hell out of someone else . . . declaring their love for
him
. . .

Nope.

She most definitely hasn’t been in my shoes.

“I’ve seen so many people succeed by simply opening up and talking.”

I try and push away at the sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but I don’t have anyone to talk to.”

“You always have someone. You’re talking to someone right now,” she says with a sweet smile. She’s right, of course. This is probably the most I’ve spoken in the past twenty-four hours, and I didn’t even realize it.

“You’re being discharged this week, right?” she questions.

“Saturday.”

She looks down at her notepad, and pulls off the pen that is attached to the binder. Opening the pad, she quickly jots something down, then rips off a small scrap of paper and hands it to me. I look down, surprised to see a cell phone number.

“I know this is frowned upon, but that’s my cell phone number. If you ever need to talk, about anything, night or day, just call me. I’ll see you later for our one on one.” She stands and walks away.

When I know the coast is clear, I scrunch the paper up in my fist and set up a three-point shot, tossing it into the nearest trash can.

I’m not going to need it, so what’s the point in keeping it?

I’m sitting in my room, staring out into thin air, when I’m startled by a knock at my door. Looking down at my watch, I realize it’s visitation and it must be Caleb with my daughter. Caleb is Ava’s best friend—who is also one of my closest friends and since I can’t bear to look Ava in the eye, I have Caleb bring Lily instead.

Enthusiastically, I stand and rush towards the door, my day improving in a matter of seconds at the thought of seeing my baby girl. However, I’m sourly disappointed when I see one of the counselors instead.

“Hello, Sebastian. Your usual visitor, Caleb Summers, has been held up and isn’t able to bring your daughter for your visitation. However, your ex-wife has come in his place.”

“My ex-wife?”

“Yes, Ava, Ava Jacobson. She’s here with your daughter.”

My heart thuds against my chest at the mere mention of her name, and I almost double over in pain at the aspect of being in the same room as her.

Holy fuck . . . I can’t breathe.

“If you don’t want her here, I can send her away. It’s your decision.”

That almost pains me more than the thought of having her in the same room. As much as I would like to tell Ava to go to hell, she has my daughter and I haven’t seen her in what feels like forever. I want to see my Lily-Mai. Pushing past the agonizing pain of having to see Ava again, I say, “No, that’s okay. I want to see my daughter.”

“Are you sure?”

Seeing the beautiful smile my daughter will give me in a few moments is worth the pain. Plus, I’ll have to see Ava again at Lily’s birthday party this weekend, so this can be a test.

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll send her in.”

Once I’m alone, my heart slams against my chest, beginning to feel the signs of what possibly could be classified as a heart attack. I stalk the small space of the room until the sound of gentle knocking alerts me to Ava’s presence. On a heavy exhale, I force my feet forward and head to the door. The moment I open the door, I see Ava’s beautiful smile and it almost brings me to my knees. It’s a smile that haunts my dreams nightly.

“Hi.” The moment that single word escapes her pretty lips, I’m swiftly reminded that I’m still madly in love with her. Seven months, and I still feel exactly the same.

Fuck.

“Where’s Caleb?” I ask aggressively, my entire body trembling with the humiliation of what she did to me.

She physically blanches at my harsh greeting, bringing Lily closer to her chest, almost like a safety barrier. “He couldn’t make it . . . a work emergency came up.”

Anger courses through my veins at how beautiful she is, and I fucking hate it. I hate
her.
Why does she have to be so damn perfect?

To calm my quaking body, I trace my eyes over my beautiful girl, her smile spreading as she opens her arms to me and says, “Ada.” I tear up at the sound. I might not be in her life full time, but it pulls at my heartstrings that she knows who I am. Ava might not love me anymore, but this little girl certainly does.

“Hey, baby.” I take Lily from Ava’s arms and hold her in mine. I attentively kiss her beautiful head, inhaling the wonderful baby smell that seems to radiate from her as I hold her against my chest.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I whisper into her feathery soft hair, my anger melting away, soothing me. Leaving Ava at the door, I head over to my bed and sit down. I stand Lily up on my lap, holding her steadily by her underarms. I brush my lips across her little button nose, then lift her adorable little hand and press a gentle kiss against her fingers. I turn to mush when I’m holding my daughter,
my princess.

I ignore Ava as she approaches.

I ignore her as she takes a seat in the leather armchair beside the bed.

I ignore her as she asks how I am.

“Sebastian . . .”

I keep my gaze concentrated on Lily, watching as she glances around her surroundings. Her eyes are huge as she locks onto something new and unfamiliar.

“Sebastian, you can’t ignore me forever. You’ll have to talk to me eventually.”

She’s right. One day I’ll have to talk to her, but today is not one of those days. In fact, I could go an eternity ignoring her and it still wouldn’t be long enough. “Why are you here, Ava?” I hiss. I turn to stare at her, but not quite holding eye contact. Even though I’m so damn angry with her, a part of me hopes she says she’s here for me; that she misses me and wants me back.
Yes, that would be the idiotic part.

“Caleb couldn’t make it, so I brought Lily.”

The severe sound of her words stab me painfully in the chest and I realize any dreams of hearing her say she loves me was diminished seven months ago, in that motel room . . .

“Well, I’d like you to leave and come back for Lily in an hour,” I snap, watching her complexion pale at my harsh tone. Of course, this is a Sebastian she has never had the pleasure of meeting before. The broken, coldhearted version.

“I can’t leave you alone with her—”

Anger bubbles up from the very soul of me. “What do you mean you can’t leave her alone with me? Are you saying you don’t trust me? That I’d harm my own daughter because I fell off the goddamn bandwagon.” I don’t realize how loud I am until the sound of crying fills my ears. My heart lurches out. Shit, I’m so riled up, I’m making my daughter cry.

“I’m sorry, baby. Shh, it’s okay. Daddy’s sorry. I didn’t mean to shout.” I bring Lily closer to me, brushing my lips against her head, rocking her into a steady rhythm to help ease her frightened cries. I can see Ava standing up, her arms ready to take Lily from my hands, but I stare daggers at her.

“I’ve got her. She’s
my
daughter too,” I say in a hushed voice, watching her motherly instincts struggle as I soothe my daughter’s cries. Ava’s bottom lip trembles as she watches in turmoil. After a painful deliberation, she finally sits down, but her eyes watch me like a hawk. It fucking kills me that she thinks I’m capable of hurting my daughter.

“I would never hurt my daughter. She’s all I have . . .” I mutter as I stand on my own two feet and bounce Lily in my arms, heading over into the direction of the window.

Once my daughter’s shrieking cries have been replaced by the sound of laughter, Ava speaks gently, “I know you wouldn’t hurt her, I know that. It’s just . . . I’m not allowed to leave you alone with her. It’s rehab policy.”

I allow her words to settle over me as I try to think of a response, but anything I come up with just involves screaming at her or groveling for her to take me back. So I stay silent. I spend the next fifty minutes with Lily in my arms, avoiding any eye contact with her mother. Every time I look into her eyes, it’s just a constant reminder she is no longer mine. It’s too painful.

During my quality time with Lily, I find myself counting the minutes until I’m free from this place. Until I can begin my new life—one that doesn’t include the love of my life or an illegal substance. To say I’m scared would be an understatement of the century, but I know I need to take my life back, and that includes getting joint custody of my little girl. There is no way in hell I’m allowing another dude to bring her up. Not a fucking chance.

I say my goodbyes to Lily, and watch Ava walk away with Lily in her arms. My heart is heavy, but before the pain destroys the entire essence of my very being, I force my feet into action. Retracing my steps back into the group therapy room, I fish the scrap of paper out of the trash can.

I have a feeling I might need Addison’s help once I’m out of here.

I BREATHE A SIGH of relief the moment my feet touch the paved ground of the parking lot, finally free of the place that has held me captive for three months. Well, that’s what it felt like anyway. It wasn’t that dramatic, but I know for sure that I don’t want to go back in there.
No way in hell.
Today is the first day of the rest of my life . . . and that begins with my daughter’s first birthday party. I just wish it didn’t include Ava and the reason why we’re no longer together—Ashton.