Page 149 of For Wrath and Redemption
“Jonah,” I say on an exhale. “I can’t be with an addict. I have my own shit to work out. It’s not good for either of us, and it’s certainly not good for a baby. I can’t be wor?—"
“I’ll play you for it.”
I pull back and look at him. “What?”
“The chess board I got you is set up in the corner. You’ve even got the queen from Stockholm on the board. I’ll play you for it.”
“For what?”
“For us. If I win, we do this. I’ll go back to rehab. I’ll complete the program for real this time. I’ll take it seriously, and then we give it our all. You, me, and this baby.”
Macon’s words play over in my head.
Getting sober was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but the easiest decision I’ve ever made.
I start to want things. To imagine things. My stomach flips as hope blooms in my chest, but I shove it down. Not yet. I can’t do this to myself again.
“And if I win?”
He shrugs. “Then I step back. We do it your way.”
“We can’t play a chess game to decide that.”
“Why not? You’ve thought of us together as a family. You’re not completely against it. If you were, you never would have admitted to it. We’re not making the decision any other way, so why not this way?”
Something in me knows this is ridiculous, but another part of me, that stupid hopeful part of me, wants to try. I’m exhausted and emotional. My brain is foggy. I can’t settle on a decision on my own, and he’s right. I’ve thought of us as a family. I’m not completely against it.
It’s the absolute worst thing to leave to chance.
I shake my head again.
“I’ll beat you, Jonah.”
“Maybe not. I’ve been practicing over the last few weeks. It helped with my detox.”
Detox.
It helped with his detox. That stupid feeling of hope grows.
“Have you used anything?”
I ask the question tentatively, but he answers immediately. No hesitation. I know it’s the truth.
“No. Hardest thing I’ve done is this nasty ass mocktail Sav made for me.”
I close my eyes and try to bite my tongue. I try to force myself to turn him down, but when I open my mouth, I say the opposite.
“Fine. One game.”
Jonah grabs the chess board, walking carefully so as not to tip over the pieces, and takes it into the living room. He sets it on the table, then sits himself behind the white pieces, so I take my place behind the black pieces.
“Ready?”
I nod, and then he moves his king pawn two squares. I arch a brow.
“You have been practicing.”
“Told you.”
