Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

Merrick

“I am a fucking coward,” I grumbled, staring down into the bottom of my empty glass. Well, not empty, considering the ice I’d tossed in when I’d filled it three quarters of the way up with whiskey fifteen minutes ago hadn’t had a chance to melt yet. Now the bottle—that shit was almost empty.

I stared over at the coffee table, at the upside-down box and its contents that I’d spilled all over the place two nights ago, after Evie had asked me to leave her office. Leaning forward, I swiped a picture from the pile, one I’d stared at for hours on end over the last two days, trying to find my nose and my chin—the ones I’d so clearly known were mine the day my little girl was born. Yet now all I saw was Amelia’s face—her nose, her chin, her dark blue, distant eyes. I wanted to rip up the damn photo and never see it again. But I’d cherished the day it was taken even more than I hated the ones that came after.

The alcohol started to hit—either that or my apartment was spinning faster than a ride at Disney. So I laid back on the couch with the photo still in my hands, and I shut my eyes with one foot on the floor to keep me grounded. It didn’t take long until I drifted off to sleep. Sometime later, a loud banging on my door woke me up.

At least I thought someone had been banging. But as I sat up and glanced around, my apartment was silent. Ugh. But my head. Apparently, the pounding I’d thought was coming from the door was coming from my brain.

Tha-thump, tha-thump.

Fuck. It felt like a little drummer boy was inside my skull practicing for a solo. I dropped my head into my hands and massaged my temples. But then the loud banging in my head turned into surround sound, and a voice joined in with the band.

“Crawford, open the damn door before I break it down. I know you’re in there.”

Fuck.

I needed Will riding my ass right now like I needed a hole in the head.

“Go away! I’m fine,” I yelled back.

“Not good enough. Get your ass up and open the door.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head, knowing the pain in the ass was not going anywhere. Basically, the faster I dragged my ass to the door, the faster I could get rid of him.

When I stood from the couch, I barely stuck the landing.

Damn, I suck at drinking.

I tried to move my head as little as possible as I treaded to the front door and unlocked it.

Will opened the door and looked me up and down. “Jesus Christ, those are the clothes you were in two days ago. I knew you weren’t out of town.” He leaned forward and sniffed. “And you stink like stale liquor.” He shook his head. “How many times do I have to tell you to leave the drinking to me? You never could develop a tolerance worth shit.”

I started back to the couch without saying a word. Unfortunately, seeing I was alive wasn’t good enough. Will shut the door behind him and followed me in.

“What the hell is going on with you?”

I sat down on the couch with my head hanging. It was too heavy to hold up.

Will looked at the shit strewn all over the coffee table. “Oh fuck. What happened?” He bent and picked up the tiny baby cap Eloise wore the day she was born.

“Don’t touch that,” I managed to grumble.

He sighed loudly and walked away. I hoped maybe he’d realized I was going through something and decided to respect my privacy. But he came back two minutes later.

“Take these.” He held out a few pills and a tall glass of water. “Three Motrin and hydrate to start.” Then he started typing on his phone. “I’m ordering Gatorade, bananas, and a pastrami on rye from the deli down the block that delivers.”

I squinted up at him. “There’s no way I could eat pastrami.”

“That’s not for you, jackass. It’s for me. I’m starving. You’ll have the Gatorade and bananas. You need electrolytes and potassium.” He finished typing and tossed his phone on the couch, taking the seat across from me. “Talk to me. What happened?”

I was in no mood to converse. I shook my head.

“How long have we been friends?” he said.

“Too long,” I grumbled.

“Then you should know by now that I’m not going anywhere until we talk it out.”

“I can barely keep down the Motrin you just gave me. I’m not up for conversation.”

“It’s alright.” He shrugged. “I’m in no rush.”

Great. He’s here for the long haul.

“Why don’t you lie down for a bit and wait for the headache to subside? I have some emails to answer anyway.”

I would’ve preferred he just disappear, but I’d take silence if that was all I could get. So I did what he said and laid back down on the couch, propping my feet up on the armrest and shutting my eyes. I was in and out of consciousness for a while after that, until the sound of a bag crumpling opened one eye.

“Any better?” Will asked.

I swung my legs down to the floor and sat up. It felt like a Mack truck had run me over, then backed up and run me over a second time in reverse, but the Motrin seemed to have taken the edge off the pounding in my head, at least.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “You got that Gatorade?”

Will held it out, along with a banana.

Twenty minutes later, I still didn’t feel like talking, but at least I was capable of it. Will had finished his sandwich, kicked off his shoes, and had his feet propped up on a corner of the coffee table with his arms spread wide across the top of the couch.

“What’s going on, my friend?”

I sighed. “I ran into Aaron Jensen.”

“Okay…”

“He had Eloise with him.” I’d been looking down at the ground but raised my eyes to meet Will’s. “She’s deaf.”

Will frowned. “But she’s okay, otherwise?”

I shrugged. “She has braces on her legs, and her…” I couldn’t bring myself to call him her father, even after three years. “Aaron was signing to her.”

Will digested the information. “Okay, well, you knew there was a possibility she might have hearing deficits and some developmental issues. That’s tough, but doesn’t mean she won’t be able to live a perfectly happy life.”

I closed my eyes and pictured her in the shopping cart. The face had haunted my thoughts so much that not even drowning in alcohol could stop it. “She looks just like Amelia.”

Will was quiet a long time. “You need to nip this shit in the bud before you blow things with Evie.”

I looked up at him.

Will shut his eyes. “Shit. You already did.”

“I fucking did this to Eloise.” I shook my head. “I don’t even know if that’s her name anymore.”

“Did what to Eloise?”

“Everything. It was the choices I made that killed her mother and caused her to be born prematurely. If I’d just let nature take its course…”

Will’s face wrinkled. “What are you talking about?”

“You know I made all of the medical decisions for Amelia and the baby.”

“Yeah, and?”

“She went into labor from a drug I approved giving her.”

“Yeah, because the team of doctors treating her recommended it. I know you’re a smart dude, but you didn’t go to four years of medical school and do eight years of residency like the neurologists did. Not to mention, there’s no proof that the medicine caused her to go into labor early. Her body was giving out long before that.” He shook his head. “Things happen. Women who aren’t in plane crashes go into early labor and have babies with far more issues. There’s shit in life we can’t control.”

I heard Will talking, but I was too distracted by the memories flashing through my mind to really listen to him. One, in particular, was the hardest to tune out. It was the day I’d found out my daughter wasn’t my daughter. I’d left the hospital to wallow in self-pity marinated in vodka and come back to an empty bed.

“I didn’t say goodbye to her,” I choked out.

Will stared at me as tears rolled down my cheeks. “What do you mean, you didn’t say goodbye? I was outside the room when you held her—” He stopped abruptly. “Shit. You don’t mean Eloise, do you? You’re talking about Amelia. This isn’t just about the baby.”

A few minutes passed without either of us talking. Eventually Will sat up. He took his feet from the coffee table and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Do you love Evie?”

I wiped my tears and nodded. “I do.”

“Then you need to figure out a way to move on.”

I thought I had moved on…until I saw Eloise’s sweet face. “How do I fucking do anything now?”

“You stop letting things from your past destroy your future. I’m no shrink, but I think the first step is letting it out. It’s been three years, and this is the first time you’ve let the emotions in. After Amelia died, you came back to work a few days later like nothing happened. You can’t erase people from your heart to move on.” He tapped his fingertips to his chest. “You have to accept that they’re always going to have a piece and let it heal as best it can. A person who loves you will take your heart, scars and all.”