Page 49 of Blackout: Book Two

Chapter Seventeen

Lacey

“Are you nervous, is that it?” my mother questions. She tosses the magazine she’s been pretending to read on the table and twists in her chair to face me. “And, don’t you dare tell me nothing is bothering you. I can see it all over your face.”

Feeling transparent, I look away from her. Either I’m losing my touch at hiding my feelings or I’ve been fooling myself into thinking everyone buys my bullshit.

“Is it because Blackie isn’t here?” she presses. “I know the last few months have been rough and every time you come here it’s worse--”

“I spoke to him,” I blurt, finally meeting her gaze. Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise, nearly reaching her hairline. “When?”

“About two weeks ago,” I reply.

I’ve been replaying those few moments we shared over the phone on a loop inside my head since he ended the call. Hearing his voice was just what I need to quiet my mind and restore my faith in us. It surprised me how much he sounded like the man I fell in love with and for those few minutes I believed he loved me. I could sense the change in him and noted every difference…every sign of growth…of recovery. Blackie was making strides in rehab and still called me. He wanted to hear my voice. That was something my maker couldn’t take from me.

Every word we uttered…mine.

Every tear we cried…mine.

All beautiful and all mine.

Feeling our child move inside of me…mine.

Sharing that moment with Blackie…mine.

All beautiful and all mine.

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense. What did he say? How did he sound? Your father told me he’s doing great,” my mother rambles, pulling my attention back to her.

“I think he is,” I murmur. “He sounded well. It was strange to hear his voice at first, but we fell into a conversation easily. He asked for the baby and told me a little about his treatment and his counselor. Then I felt the baby kick for the first time,” I pause, smiling at the memory. “He made me put the phone to my stomach, and he started talking to her.”

“Oh my God,” she gasps. Her hand flies to her mouth as everyone in the waiting room turns to her. “Sorry,” she grimaces. “That was loud, wasn’t it?”

“And a bit overdramatic.”

She swats my shoulder playfully and inches closer.

“What happened next?”

That’s the part that stings the most and the reason my mask has slipped.

“He got weird after that and ended the call,” I reveal, leaving out the part where he didn’t tell me he loved me. Although, I deserved that after not telling him I loved him when he was in the hospital. Still, it hurts and leaves me questioning us.

“I haven’t heard from him since,” I add. “I was hoping he would call before today’s appointment. He doesn’t know we’re finding out the sex.”

“You can’t be mad at him for hanging up, Lacey,” she says.

I’m not mad at him but I’m curious as to why she thinks I shouldn’t be.

“And you can’t be mad at him for not calling either.”

Okay, so I’m a little mad about that. Especially since he asked if he could call me again before he hung up.

“Why is that?”

“Because you’re not in his shoes,” she points out. “What he’s doing isn’t easy. If it were, he would’ve done it a long time ago. He’s going to have his bad days and there are things he’s going to need to work out for himself. Things he might not want to share with you. You have to trust the process and remind yourself, it’s all for a good cause.”

She makes sense and I find myself wondering where her insight stems from.

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