Page 21 of A More Than Mayhem Christmas

“That recent?” Lucy cuts in.

“Yeah.” But that’s not even the worst part. “I started bleeding at the shop, but I didn’t have the courage to tell Dylan. So, I made an excuse to leave work early, and umm…” I wipe at my tears, now flowing fast and free, and try to breathe through the pain of my admission. “I drove straight to the store and bought two bottles of wine.”

Lucy rears back, and I can feel her eyes on me when she asks, “Did you?”

A sob accompanies my head nod. “Dylan came home when I was halfway through one. He emptied it in the sink right away, and I… I brought out the other bottle just before we came here. I didn’t have any, but sometimes the hurt is too much, and I… I don’t know if I actuallywantto, or if I want to test myself, or if… if maybe I just want the pain of something else to replace this one.”

“And you’ve been hiding these feelings from Dylan?”

It’s not a question that needs an answer. She already knows because she did it, too. She pushed away the people closest to her. “I don’t think Dylan’s dealing with it too well, either. And I think we’re both struggling to communicate our emotions.”

Light fills the room when the bedroom door opens. Dylan stands in the doorway, his eyes immediately finding mine. “I was looking for…” he trails off when he notices the state of me. Then he looks around the room, from the wall, to the toys, then back to me, putting two and two together.

I wipe the evidence of my heartbreak off my cheeks.

“Riley…” he sighs.

Lucy releases my hand, hugging me before getting off the bed. “Any time. Anywhere,” she offers, and then she’s gone, closing the door after her.

Without a word, Dylan replaces her spot beside me.

He doesn’t speak right away, which is good, because it gives me the time I need to say everything I’ve been feeling. “I’m sorry for pushing you away,” I start. “In my mind… it’s almost like if I don’t acknowledge it, then it never happened, and I don’t think that’s the best way to deal with it.”

“Is that all you’re sorry for?” he asks, and it’s not accusatory. It’s purely questioning. “Because youkeepapologizing to me, and I don’t know why. Do you believe it’s your fault? Thatyoumade it happen?”

I can’t contain my sob when I nod, when I finally admit the most painful truth of them all.

“Riley,” he murmurs, holding me to him.

I cry into his chest, let it all out. “It’s not just with the pregnancies, but the alcohol, too. I disappointed you.”

He pulls away, placing his hand on my jaw, forcing me to look at him. Eyes searching mine, he asks, “Is that how you’ve been feeling?”

I nod again. “It’s so hard to be around you, because I’m so ashamed.”

“Baby…” He releases me, shaking his head, more to himself than to me. “I’m sorry you’ve felt that way and that I didn’t pick up on it. I’ve been so in my head about how I can make things better, that I didn’t even realize. You could never disappoint me, Riley. Never. So you relapsed. It happens. That doesn’t change anything. And it sure as hell doesn’t take away from all the hard work you put into staying sober foryears.”

I listen to his words, let each one of them sink in and make a home for themselves in my heart, right where he lives.

Dylan rests against the wall again, his eyes unfocused as he stares ahead. “Listen, I could happily spend the rest of my life with just the two of us. I don’tneedus to have kids to feel fulfilled, but… we should talk about it, and if we decide that we still want to have children, then we have options,” he says, his voice low. “I found a clinic not far from here that specializes in this kind of stuff. Maybe they can give us some answers. And if having a child naturally isn’t in the cards for us, we can go a different route.” He lowers his head as he continues. “I was going to ask you first… about talking to Logan, seeing if he or his dad can recommend someone to help us. And then maybe Amanda knows someone we can talk to…together… if that’s something you think might help.”

It’s the first time he’s spoken about all of this, and maybe that’s on me. Maybe he didn’t feel like he could share his thoughts with me.

A sudden knot forms in my throat, and I’m quick to swallow it down as I watch him work through his emotions. Right now, I see the child version of him I wanted so badly, but more than that, I see his pain. His need tofixthings. I’m reminded of the man he became when he knew he was being deployed. How he made sure to take care of everything, so I never had to worry about a single thing while he was gone. He repaired everything in our new house, made sure our finances were in order, and had his friends and family check in on me. He took care of every single aspect of our lives. He took care ofme. Because every task, every decision he’s ever made, has been forme.

I hold his face in my hands now, my eyes right on his. Flashbacks of the night before his deployment play havoc in my mind. I had shaved his head in preparation, and for the first time since we got together, I saw the fear in his eyes.

Not for himself.

But for me.

There’s never been a time whenIhaven’t been his top priority.

All he wants is to protect me from harm. From hurt.

When I’m good, he thrives. But when I’m not… he spirals.

“I promise, from here on out, whichever route we go, we go there together.”

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