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She nodded and kept talking. “I don’t feel right, Ry. I’m just…nothing feels right anymore and all I do is cry. I get mad at my son for crying all the time. I get mad at a fucking newborn baby.” She scoffed. “How pathetic is that?”
“It’s not pathetic at all. You’re human, Mar, and this is all new to you. But you also need to recognize that you might, like, need some help. I think you need to talk to Jake and figure out if maybe it’s medicine, counseling, or whatever you need, but you need help. You can’t keep going like this.”
“He’s busy, Ry…”
“Stop saying that. He’s not too busy for his girlfriend and his kid, Amara. I don’t…my practice isn’t until 4 p.m. tomorrow. Go upstairs and sleep next to your boyfriend in your own bed, OK? I’ll…I got JT for the night. He likes me better than you anyway,” Ryan said with a wink, watching as her face sank. “OK, so that was a joke. A bad one, but I’m a fucking idiot, so there’s that. Seriously.” He pointed toward the stairs as she looked at him. “Go.”
She got up and walked over to him, grabbing his face gently with both hands and turning it toward hers. She leaned in and kissed him on the mouth, letting her lips linger there for a moment before pulling away. “Thank you, Ry,” she said gently as she began to head upstairs.
Down, boy.
“Mar?” he called after her, and she turned back to face him. “Promise me you’ll talk to him about getting some help?”
She barely nodded, avoiding eye contact and going up to her room.
He knew that wouldn’t be the last of this conversation, but at the moment all he wanted to do was try to pass out for a few minutes before JT started screaming again.
And no sooner than he had that thought, he heard him beginning to whimper. “Awesome,” he groaned, throwing his head back. He went to the kitchen, made up a bottle for him, and heated it up in the warmer before heading into the living room. He passed Baylor on the way there, who was lying not too far from the bassinet. He looked up wearily at Ryan as he walked by.
“Tell me about it,” Ryan said, as he set the bottle onto the end table and picked JT up. “You, sir, are a hot mess. And I can say that because I am, too. You gotta get your shit together, my dude. Your mom is doing her best.”
He had a seat in the rocker, positioned the little baby in his arms, reached for the bottle, placed it in his mouth, and sighed, relieved at the silence. Baylor came over and poked his nose around in Ryan’s arms, making sure everything was on the up and up. “He’s fine. I got him, buddy,” Ryan said, gently pushing the dog away and looking back down at JT.
Loud and annoying or not, he sure did love this little guy already.
“What are we gonna do with you, huh? You’re mouthy, just like your Uncle Ty. You know that? You two are gonna get along great,” Ryan said, closing his eyes briefly and mentally running down the list of things he currently had to worry about.
The fact that Hayes snuck out of rehab and may have jeopardized his recovery efforts.
The fact that Hayes still wanted to fuck around with TK and had proposed they share him.
The fact that he wanted to.
God, did he want to.
The fact that he’d just fucked his straight teammate, who he’d have to see every single day.
The fact that Amara was clearly going through some sort of postpartum depression.
All of those should have had him in the midst of a full-blown panic attack.
But he wasn’t.
Maybe there’s hope for you yet, Baylor.
Fuckin’ Way She Goes (24)
January 16
Day 34
One more day.
Hayes was almost there, almost at the end of his 35-day inpatient program at White Oaks. He’d remained completely sober, he was in the best physical shape of his life, and mentally, he was making great strides.
The depression that had come with him weaning off the oxy, made worse by being away from Ryan, still came in waves. And he’d have to be especially mindful of his mood changes since he’d officially weaned off both the buprenorphine and naloxone last week, but Dr. Rosa had taught him plenty of coping skills. The routine at White Oaks had helped, as sticking to a routine was one of the skills on which Dr. Rosa had put great emphasis. And as asinine as it sounded, crocheting had become somewhat of an obsession for him.
Tyler Hayes had been crocheting his ass off.
