Page 12

My dad’s standing at the door, waiting for me. His face breaks into a grin, a look of relief I haven’t seen pointed in my direction in a long time.

“I was surprised you called, but Elle, I am so glad you're here,”

he says, his voice a little too soft.

“Where’s Mom?”

I smile weakly, my heart still racing from the drive, stepping inside and setting my bag down in the entryway.

Dad sighs, his smile fading as he runs a hand through his thinning hair. “That’s why I’m glad you’re here,”

he starts, his voice a little rough, a little unsteady. “Your mother left. She just... she left me and Damian here two days ago and hasn’t been back.”

What?

I watch as my dad scoops up Damian from the floor, squirming in his arms, and then suddenly, he’s shoving him into my chest. "She won’t even take my calls," he mutters. Damian’s wide eyes meet mine, and he lets out a soft giggle.

I look at my dad, really look at him, and something sinks in. The hurt in his eyes, the way he’s trying to hold it together. This isn’t just about Mom leaving. It’s about everything that's been falling apart since I left.

“I—I didn’t know,”

I say, finally breaking the silence. My throat feels tight, like I’m swallowing something bitter.

“It’s not your problem, kid. But...”

He shrugs, his shoulders slumping, “You’ve got a place here if you want it. If you pass a drug test. That’s the deal.”

I can do this. I can pass a test.

“Alright,”

I say, smiling proudly that I can do that, because I know I’ll pass. “I’ll take the test.”

Dad nods slowly, relieved I didn’t argue, but I know the questions floating through his mind. He’s wondering if I can actually do it, if I’m really going to be able to pull myself together after everything that’s happened. I know because they're crossing mine too.

I take a breath, trying to steady myself, trying to remind myself that this is what I need. This is the step I have to take. Even if it feels like everything is falling apart, with Jake, with mom, with who I used to be, I can put a few pieces back together.

With Dad working third shift and sleeping most of the day, I'm instantly thrown back into caring for Damian full-time. I couldn't be happier. And stressed. It’s not easy. I’m tired in ways I forgot I could be — physically drained and emotionally exhausted, but every time I see Damian’s little face, I can’t help but smile.

I’m so busy with Damian, I don't even think about Jake until he calls me four days later, asking if he can come over and explain everything. I agree, but warn him that I have Damian, and if he wants to fight or argue, I'll pass. I won't have that around him.

“I don't want to lie to you, so I’m just going to lay it all out,”

Jake says an hour later, having shown up right as I was putting Damian down for his nap. “I got high. That’s why I didn't come home. That’s why I ignored you standing outside the restaurant.”

I already knew that. I figured it out as soon as he looked at me. I saw his eyes. I didn't leave because he spent time with his friend; I left because he put my sobriety at risk. I look over to Damian, sleeping on the couch, and think about how much better my life has been since meeting Jake.

Sure, I put the work in. I got myself clean, but it was because of him. Because I had a safe place to go, because I had someone who cared about me enough to help me, and because I saw with my own eyes someone choosing drugs over their kid, and it didn't sit right with me at all. I saw what I must have looked like when I continued to choose getting high over my son.

I knew what my life looked like before Jake, and I could count on one hand the things I had going for me. Since meeting him, I’ve gotten clean, I’ve gotten my life turned around, and I now have my son back.

“Are you going to do it again?”

I ask, looking back at him.

“I want to say no,”

he said, his voice wavering, “but I won't lie to you. I don't know. I do know I don't want to. I don't want to be that person. The kind of father who risks his daughter, the kind of man who risks losing the woman he loves.”

My chest tightens, a rush of warmth flooding through me. I feel light—almost weightless. It is the first time he has said that. Living together for almost 4 months, he never said those words to me. Without thinking, I lean in and kiss him, a soft, lingering kiss that speaks the words I can’t seem to find. In this moment, there is nothing else—no worries, no doubts, just pure happiness.

“I’m staying here. I finally have my son, and I need to do this right. So, if we're going to be together, we need to get used to this.”

I say after I pull back, smiling.

“You’re not going to say it back?”

he smirks.

“Of course, I love you, dumbass.”

I roll my eyes, “But I need you to promise me that you won't use anymore. I can't be around that at all.”

We spend the rest of the afternoon together, but when Jake asks to stay over tonight, I tell him no and immediately feel the tension between us. His irritation is sharp, unmistakable. But even as his disappointment hangs heavy, I stand firm.

Being happy today doesn’t undo what happened. It doesn’t erase the hurt or the broken pieces of trust, and it feels wrong to reward him for what he did to put us here in the first place. For the first time, I stand my ground with Jake and he goes home.

After a few weeks, Mom comes back home, and we all agree that I can stay and continue being Damian’s main caretaker. The first few days are awkward, but we fall into a new rhythm. She doesn’t get quite as upset with me anymore, but there’s a certain distance between us. It’s like a quiet understanding that things are how they should be and we have to find a way forward.

The final court date for my parents' guardianship of Damian comes and goes, the case dropping when we don't show up, and we celebrate by having dinner at our favorite restaurant.

Jake and I are doing better. The distance is not an issue with him working again and coming over every weekend. He got a job with his old sponsor, Ed, working construction, and we fell into a new routine. Bianca’s been trying to get him to hang out, but he’s spending all his time off in Tacoma with me and Damian.

He takes me out on dates, arranging for my mom or dad to watch Damian for an hour, just so I can catch my breath. I can feel the thoughtfulness in his actions—not the kind of gesture driven by fear that I might leave again, but something deeper. There’s a softness in his eyes, a quiet pride, like he’s not just supporting me—he’s genuinely proud of how I’m fighting to make it all work.

He takes Damian and me to the park if he gets off work early, and he doesn’t get annoyed by the way Damian clings to him, always trying to play and leaving us with practically no alone time.

My parents dote on Caylee and even offer the spare bedroom for her to have her own space here, which helps because Jake can't keep his hands off me, and I’m tired of having to be quiet.

“Do you know what I love most about Caylee having her own room over here?”

I ask after the kids are asleep, and we crawl into my bed.

“What?”

he asks, taking his shirt off and settling in.

“That I can kiss you whenever I want,”

I lean into him and kiss him before pulling away again. “Wherever I want even,”

I smirk as I start trailing kisses across his chest before moving to straddle him.

“Don’t tease me,”

he whines, “I’ve been so good, I know you don't like messing around in front of the kids.”

“Do you see any kids?”

I ask while I slip my hands into his boxers, pulling them down as I shimmy backward and push my panties to the side, sitting down and starting to move, rubbing my clit along his dick.

Jake grabs my hips and presses me harder against him, and we both groan.

“You’re so wet already. Have you been thinking about my dick all night?”

“Yes,”

I say quietly, and I ride him faster. I reach up to rip my shirt off as Jake lets go of my hips and pulls me down, taking my nipple into his mouth. As he bites down, I lean forward just enough so the next time I roll my hips, he slides into me and I lower myself onto him. We both moan as I slowly sink down, letting my body adjust to him in this position.

“I don't think so,”

he growls as he holds me against him and flips me onto my back before grabbing my ankles and throwing them over his shoulders. “We can be as loud as we want now, and I want to hear you scream.”

He drops his head and without warning bites my clit before kissing it and sucking it into his mouth.

I reach and grab a handful of his hair as I grind against his face, my other hand fisting the sheet.

“You taste so sweet,”

he says and laughs when I try to shove his head back down.

“Please,”

I whimper.

“I love it when you beg, Elle.”

He slides his finger into my pussy as he bites my thigh, watching as he fucks me with his finger.

“Get up here and fuck me,”

I demand and pull him up by his hair.

He smirks as he holds my gaze, and slams into me so hard the headboard hits the wall. He grabs my thighs, spreads them, and fucks me like a porn star.

“Your pussy feels so damn good, fuck. I love how wet you get for me.”

A punishing thrust accents every word.

He surprises me by flipping me again, pulling my ass in the air while shoving my face into the mattress, his hand stays there as he pounds into me relentlessly.

I push back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, and reach underneath me to play with myself.

I moan into the bed as he bottoms out and stops moving, grunting through his orgasm as I start to cum with him.

We went to a party at his friend’s house last weekend.

He got mad that I gave his friend, SHELBY, A GIRL!! a lap dance, and we were play fighting and he accidentally hit me in my face, so I walked away.

He followed me into the bathroom and wouldn't leave me alone, so I pushed him and he fell onto the toilet.

He got up and screamed at me.

Said ‘fuck you, you dumb bitch’ and left.

Said I needed to find my own way back home.

I spent ten minutes looking for a ride from any of his friends, but everyone was drunk. He found me outside crying and told me he was sorry and he loved me.

We were drunk.

It started as an accident.

I love him, but this is his last chance.

I try to treat him good because he deserves it.

Because without him, I wouldn't be where I am now.

And I want him to look back and be able to say that I made him the happiest he's ever been.

-elle