“Lo—”
“I know the last few months have been hard. Losing Ruthie was devastating, this placenta percreta has been so hard, thinking we might lose Axl was too much, but I can’t raise this baby with a drunk or a drug addict.”
He shakes his head, his expression disbelieving. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? So I have a few beers and a smoke after work, that doesn’t make me a drunk or a drug addict. My father is a fucking raging alcoholic, Lo. I’m not a drunk.”
“So was mine. I won’t have Axl around that. I want you out of the house.”
“I don’t have a goddamn drinking problem, Freckles.”
“Yes, you do. I’ve put up with a lot from you, Gabe, because I love you. But I won’t put Axl through that. He deserves better than that. He deserves better than our shitty parents.”
“Baby, don’t do this. You want me to stop drinking, stop smoking? I can do that.”
“Have you had a drink since I was admitted?”
“It’s a fucking hospital, Lo. I was kind of busy keeping Axl company and praying you would wake up.”
“Hold out your hands.”
“What?”
“Show me your hands.”
He holds them in front of him, steady, at first, but that gives way to a tremor. “That doesn’t mean shit. It’s been a pretty big fucking ordeal. I’m still trying to process everything that happened.”
“No, I’m processing. You’re experiencing the DTs. Axl and I will be here for a few days, but I want you out of the house by the time we’re released. I don’t care where you go, but I need to know you’re getting help, Gabe. I won’t let you see him until you do.”
“Lo, don’t do this.”
“I love you so much. Before today, I didn’t think I’d ever love anyone as much as you, Dash. I was content with whatever you gave. I put up with your shitty behavior these past few months because it was a lot for all of us, because I couldn’t grasp the idea of a life without you. I love you, but I love him more. I love our son enough to demand more for the both of us.”
Shaking with frustration, I reach up and press the call button for the nurses, but even that causes white-hot pain to my C-section wound. Agony ripples through my insides where my womb used to be. I gasp and tears prick my eyes, but I refuse to break down. Not yet.
“Lo, please?”
“Hey, honey. How you doin’?” The nurse enters and glances between the two of us, a shell-shocked Gabe and a woman holding a baby who just made the hardest decision of her life. “Everything alright in here?”
“I need you to take the baby.”
“Okay. I got you, sugar.” She takes Axl and pats his blanket-swaddled bottom when he gives a startled cry.
“Lo, don’t do this. Please don’t do this.” Gabe’s tears are streaming down his cheeks, and he wipes them away with the back of his hand.
“I need you to call security,” I say to the nurse as I sob and almost choke on the words as they leave my mouth.
Gabe wasn’t the only one to grow up with an abusive drunk for a father, and I’ll be damned if I make my son endure the same.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Gabe
One month later
Iraise my hand to knock but hesitate. Everything I’ve done in the last thirty days has prepared me for this, and yet, I’m not ready. I’m nowhere fucking near ready. Leaving Lo and my newborn was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but coming back to them is just as difficult.
Stop being such a fucking pussy.
I lift my fist and rap loudly on the door. Boisterous cries echo behind the thin glass panes.