Page 64 of Before You (Reckless Love #2)

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

JJ

My mouth is really dry. I need water. My eyes are super heavy. Why are they so hard to open right now? Voices. Beeping.

All of it comes crashing back. The call with Bailey, leaving with Asher, the car hitting us, Asher— no . It’s not real. It can’t be.

I force my eyes open, my entire body sore and protesting against any movement.

Fuck, my head hurts. The first thing I see in the dimmed lighting is Marley standing in the corner, talking with her parents.

I turn my head to see my parents asleep in the chairs next to my bed.

Dad’s moved the chair to sit as close to Mom’s as possible as she rests her head next to my hand on the mattress.

Mom shifts, lifting her head after wiping her eyes. “JJ?”

“Water,” I croak out and she nods, understanding. Dad stirs when she offers me a water bottle from her bag, and the IV in the back of my hand pulls as I reach for it. “Thanks.”

And by the way her eyes scan over me, I know she knows.

Marley moves closer, and when her lower lip trembles as she tries to smile at me, I wonder if she’s finally hit her breaking point with me. “Asher?” I ask, but his name is a hoarse whisper, and my throat feels raw. He could have made it, right?

She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Marley shakes her head, tears welling in her beautiful eyes, and a wave of anguish crashes over me, dragging me down. This is a nightmare I’m not going to wake up from. It’s my fault too because he should never have been in the car with me.

“No.”

My hand is gripped tightly by my mom’s, her cheeks damp. “I’m so sorry, JJ. He wasn’t wearing his seatbelt, and . . .” she trails off, dipping her head.

“He went through the windshield,” I say, finishing her sentence. Marley sits on the edge of the bed, the bed dipping underneath her weight as she rests her hand on top of the blanket. “It’s my fault. If he hadn’t gone with me, he’d still be here.”

“It’s not your fault. Asher went with you because he loves you,” Marley says, her voice soft.

“Loved,” I correct, my voice cracking at the same time my soul does. “I didn’t take anything. He was driving me to a meeting.” I force the words out of my mouth, and she crumples like a wilted flower.

“I know, baby. I know you didn’t,” she says, before looking away. “But the doctors had to sedate you, and they gave you painkillers when you arrived to help your body cope with the stress of the accident.”

“I-I relapsed?” I wish I didn’t hear Dad’s sharp inhale as I confirm what Marley told them.

“They’re called slips,” Marley’s mom adds from the corner, catching me by surprise because I’d forgotten her parents were here.

Her light eyes meet mine, and it’s the look of understanding on her face making me wish I’d confided in her.

“You didn’t relapse because you didn’t knowingly seek out drugs. ”

“I’m sorry,” Marley says, and my brain struggles to grasp the difference right now, my head throbbing. I lift my hand to rub my temple, finding a large bandage covering my forehead.

“Wha—” I ask, and Dad clears his throat, the lines of his face etched with sorrow.

“You needed stitches for a cut on your forehead,” he explains, and I nod, struggling to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, JJ. I’m sorry I didn’t see what you tried to tell me.”

“Bailey—” I struggle to breathe in and the monitor spikes, catching everyone’s attention. “He called just before . . .” I shake my head, trying to collect my thoughts without panicking. “Bailey called to say goodbye. He sai—”

“It can wait until later,” Dad interrupts, his eyes glimmering. “Whatever he said, it can wait. You’re important too.”

“I’m so sorry, JJ. When you’re ready to tell us everything, we’re here to listen,” Mom adds, and I’m ashamed I didn’t listen to Asher sooner. He was right all along.

“I’m an addict,” I admit, and Mom’s grip on my hand tightens as she squeezes.

“We know, but we’re going to get you help. You’re going to get better, though,” she says, smiling at me as I wish I’d told them the truth a long time ago.

Maybe everything would have turned out differently, but I’m going to have to find a way to live with the choices I’ve made.

~

It was too much having everyone stare at me with nowhere to go, so I’m hiding in the bathroom, trying to give myself a moment from the apologies and guilt.

I hardly recognize myself in the mirror, the large bandage covering half my forehead and temple.

I just need a moment to attempt to breathe.

It feels selfish after how many people dropped everything to be here.

Mirabelle and Henry were at the airport picking up Hunter earlier, and I know there’s a lot of conversations that need to happen, but I was suffocating under the weight of all their stares.

Thankfully, the room is mostly empty when I finally open the door, Marley’s mom the lone figure remaining in the room. “I hope it’s okay I asked everyone to step out for a minute.”

“Thanks,” I say, unsure of what else to say. I climb back into the bed, rolling the portable IV with me, and she takes one of the chairs. “I’m surprised my parents listened to you.”

“I can be convincing when I want to be.” Sephine chuckles, leaning back in the seat. “It’ll get easier.”

“I hope so,” I murmur, my chest aching from where the seatbelt restrained me.

“It will. They’re scared now, but they’ll adjust. It takes time.”

I twist the blanket in my hands, needing something to do. “I’m not sure I deserve for it to get easier. It’s all my fault. If I had been able to stop taking the pills in the first place, none of this would have happened.”

“JJ, you made mistakes. It happens, but they’re a part of life.

You have to keep moving forward by working the program and focusing on staying clean.

You’re not the first addict to feel like this, but from everything Marley’s told me, you’ve worked really hard to get clean, so unless you were driving the car that hit yours, I’m not sure how this is your fault. ”

I want to believe her, except I don’t.

“I have been lying to everyone for so long, I don’t know how I’m supposed to get better and move on,” I say, wondering what the point of all this is supposed to be.

“I should have been the one who died. Me—not Asher. He had his whole life ahead of him, but because he tried to help me, he doesn’t.

” I sniffle, wiping my nose with the back of my hand as Sephine’s face softens.

“I killed my boyfriend when I was sixteen because I ignored his phone call when I was higher than a kite, and he overdosed,” Sephine says, her gaze unwavering.

“I know exactly how you’re feeling right now because I’ve been there.

I had the same thoughts. Why him? I’m an addict too, and it took a long time for me to learn to live with the guilt because I couldn’t forgive myself.

“You’re not wrong. Asher did have his whole life ahead of him, and I’m so sorry he’s gone, but you also have your whole life ahead of you.

Accept the things you can’t control, and make something good come out of this instead of letting this become an excuse to spiral until it consumes you.

I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but you get to write the next page of your book, not your addiction. ”

My jaw drops because I didn’t know any of this. I knew she was an addict, but out of everyone in my life, I didn’t expect Marley’s mom to be the one I could relate to the most right now. “Did you let it consume you?”

“I did,” Sephine says, looking down at her clasped hands in her lap.

“I didn’t want to accept the help everyone was offering.

I thought I deserved to be in pain, but it wasn’t until I learned to forgive myself for the things I couldn’t change that I truly started to move on.

Kiddo, you have so many people who want to be here for you, my daughter included.

Let them help you so everyone can begin to heal. ”

“I hate being like this,” I admit, and her smile is sad.

“I know, but if you don’t believe anything else I’ve said, please believe none of this was your fault.

You’re a kid with the weight of the world on your shoulders, and your doctors failed you.

They should never have refilled your prescriptions as many times as they did,” Sephine says, and I want to believe her, but it feels like an excuse to blame others for my decisions.

“I could have chosen to stop taking them.”

“You’re choosing now. Choose every day not to take them. It’s not going to be easy, but for your sake, I hope you try. You have a bright future ahead of you and I want to see you succeed.”

“It doesn’t really seem all that bright right now,” I choke out, tears burning in my eyes. This is pathetic. I’m pathetic.

Almost as if she can hear the thoughts running in my head, Sephine stands to pull me into a hug, and I sink into her embrace as she rubs my back. “I know it doesn’t, but it all will get better. You will get better. I can just tell.”

“There’s a box under my bed with letters,” I say, my entire body trembling. “They’re for Marley. She’s the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“I’ll make sure she gets them,” she promises. “She’s the best thing to ever happen to me too.”