Messy Middle Stories

These are the stories that happen after happily ever after.

When love is tested.
When it starts to crack.
When it has to be fought for all over again.

 Chapter One

Maverick

I was rocking my newborn son back to sleep after giving him the bottle my wife had prepared, but he refused to settle. Probably because I was so damn edgy.

My jaw was tight. My breathing was uneven. I couldn’t tame my racing mind.

The demons I’d been fighting the past two years, the ones I’d thought I’d beat into submission. They were back. And more vicious than ever.

Those cruel inner voices were telling me what a shitty father I’d be, just like my old man. They swore I’d ruin my son. The same way my father had ruined me.

They tried to tempt me to take a drink… every minute of every day. Even though I’d been sober for more than two years.

I couldn’t let them win. I had too much to lose. My wife, Codie. Our son, Chance.

Second chances. That’s what Codie gave me. And I refused to screw that up.

So, I was white-knuckling it through every hour.

Hitting my knees to pray for strength.

Going to AA meetings.

Talking to my sponsor.

And because I was a big deal in the country music world now? I was trying to do it all on the QT.

I’d shared my recovery and sobriety journey with my fans. If I failed now, it would be public and ugly and messy.  

And Codie. God, I couldn’t fail her.

She’d been in recovery for more than fifteen years. Had only relapsed once, in the beginning. But now…? That woman had the strength of a warrior, claiming our son gave her even more to fight for.

But the stronger she was, the more I felt myself breaking.

“Hey,” Codie said, slipping into the room.

Her eyes flicked from me to the baby, like she could tell something was wrong.

“I heard him on the monitor. He still sounds fussy. You want me to try putting him to sleep, babe?”

Failure felt heavy in my chest. I couldn’t even help him fall asleep. How the hell was I supposed to help him navigate life?

I’d watched Codie bring all nine pounds of him into the world, without meds, or calling me every name in the book. I’d watched her nurse him every day since. Care for him like she’d been doing it all her life. She was his everything. Just like she was mine.

I needed to do more. Be more.

Be the man. The father. The husband she believed I was. And I was terrified I couldn’t.

“I got this,” I whispered to her. “You go back to sleep, sweetheart. You must be beat.”

She’d been up with him since five that morning. Never once complaining about being tired, though I knew she must be.

“I’m okay.” She sat on the ottoman at my feet and smiled as she stroked his soft hair. “I still can’t believe we made this perfect little person, can you?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. He was perfect. And I didn’t want to burden him with a dad who was a mess.

My spiral wouldn’t be quiet and private. Not like my old man’s.

Mine would be public. Online. Permanent.

One search, and my son would see exactly who I was. How broken and weak I was.

I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t do that to him. But I didn’t know how to keep fighting myself.

“You okay, Mav? You’ve seemed a little off lately.” The soft nightlight illuminated her concern. “Ever since we brought Chance home from the hospital—”

“All good, beautiful.” I forced a smile and the disappointment that flashed in her eyes told me she could read my lies. “Hey, this is where it gets real, right?” I joked.

She frowned, like I wasn’t making sense.

“And you’re the one who did all the hard work.” I winked at her, trying to ease the tension. “I just helped with the fun part. And got to hold your hand when—”

“Cut the crap, Mav.” Her voice had an edge to it when she said, “We don’t blow smoke. We tell each other the truth, right? Even when it hurts.”

I’d made her that promise, and vowed to keep it.

But that was before I realized how ugly the truth could get.

“I just need a little time to adjust, that’s all.” I prayed, every day, that was true.

“Adjust to what?” she asked, frowning. “Being a parent? I thought we both wanted that.”

“We did. I do.”

Chance was getting even more restless.

With a heavy sigh, Codie took him out of my arms and started pacing the room with him, rocking him gently, patting his bottom, whispering softly.

Watching her with him, I had flashbacks of a childhood filled with chaos. Screaming. Crying. Throwing things. Beatings that never seemed to stop.

Just thinking about it now, as I looked at my son, made me feel physically sick.

Because my blood was running through his veins. And that meant my old man’s was too.

I jumped up, rushing out of the room.

“Where are you going?” Codie called after me.

I needed space. Time. One drink to quiet the noise.

No, I needed to wake up tomorrow a different man.

❦ ✧ ❦

Chapter Two

Codie

I swallowed repeatedly, biting back the words I was afraid to say. Fighting with the fear that my marriage was in trouble and my husband was spiralling. 

“I don’t know what the hell’s going on with Mav, Little,” I said to my kid sister. “He hasn’t been himself since we brought Chance home and he won’t talk to me about what’s wrong.”

My sister was my best friend, my sounding board, and luckily for me, a licensed therapist. So, if anyone could talk me off the ledge, she could.

Grace sipped her coffee while I listened to the baby monitor. I’d just put Chance down for his nap, but he was as unsettled as his daddy. Colick, according to the doctor. If only someone could tell me what the hell was wrong with my husband.

“Have you tried talking to him about it?” Grace asked.

“Yeah, last night while we were trying to put Chance down.”

“How’d it go?” she asked, placing her phone face down on the kitchen island.

“It was weird, sis.” I shrugged. “He just kind of bailed on me.”

Grace frowned. “What do you mean?”

“He just jumped up and left the room. Like he couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”

She nodded, and I could almost see her donning her therapist’s hat. “Given Mav’s childhood, there may be some fear about—”

“Please,” I said, blowing out a breath of frustration. “Mav’s my husband. Not your patient. Can you just give it to me straight? Do you think I have something to worry about?”

 She raised an eyebrow. “That depends. Do you think he might be drinking again?”

That question blind-sided me because she’d given a voice to my biggest fear. As a recovering alcoholic myself, I knew Mav and I were both just one drink away from incinerating the life we’d built together. But now it wasn’t just us. We had our son to think about too. And I refused to let him down.

“I think…” I squared my shoulders and forced the truth out, even though my stomach was churning with fear. “That he’s tempted. I’ve been around enough alcoholics, through my meetings, to tell when someone is barely hanging on… and likely to relapse.” I whispered the last words. Because a husband who had fallen off the wagon, a newborn, and a thriving tattoo business demanding my attention? That had epic failure written all over it.

I couldn’t fail Chance. I couldn’t watch the business I’d poured myself into for a decade go up in smoke. And I couldn’t save my husband from himself, no matter how much I might want to.

Grace reached for my hand, her smile soft and sad. “Honey, we’ve both been through enough therapy of our own to know you can’t help someone who—”

I flashed her my palm as I fought back tears. Damn pregnancy hormones.

“Don’t say it. I know.” I clenched my jaw, crossed my arms, determined to pull it together. “We watched Mama struggle after he left,” I said, referring to our dead-beat dad. “And I swore I’d never be with someone who would put me in that position.”

“Hey, Mav isn’t Dad,” Grace said, gently. “You’re projecting—”

“Am I?” I didn’t want it to be true. I wanted to be a stand-by-your-man kind of woman, but I wasn’t an idiot. And I wasn’t blind. I knew when something was wrong. And I hated that Mav wouldn’t talk to me about it.

“You’re not Mama,” Grace reminded me. “She had to work three jobs to keep a roof over our heads. And I’m grateful she did. But you’re financially independent, Codie. You have a successful business, investments. You could take care of Chance on your own, if it ever came to that.”

I couldn’t even believe we were having this conversation.

Raking a hand through my hair, I said, “In my mind, there are only two things I couldn’t live with: Mav drinking or cheating on me. As long as he’s not doing either of those two things, we’ll be good. We’ll figure it out.”

“Dad was a serial cheater. Is that what you’re afraid of, that Mav might be cheating on you—”

My jaw dropped before I glared at her. “What? No! Mav wouldn’t do that.”

He’d been on tour until a few weeks ago. He wanted to be home with me, just in case I went into labour early. But if something had happened on the road and he’d been with someone else—

No! I was being ridiculous. I refused to go there.

She nodded. “Just let me play the devil’s advocate for a minute. As a couple’s therapist, I talk to people every day who swore their spouses would never cheat, until they did. Mav is—”

Mav walked in and slammed the door, glaring at the back of my sister’s head.

“I’m not cheating, Gracie!” He rounded the kitchen island, looking from her to me, in disbelief. “Are you two serious right now?”

I gave him a pointed look, challenging him to finally come clean.

“If you’re not cheating, then what the hell is wrong with you?” I threw my hands up in the air. “Because you sure as hell aren’t yourself right now. You won’t talk to me—”

“Okay, guys.” Gracie said. “Let’s just take a breather and—”

“Get. Out!” Mav pointed to the door. “We don’t need a shrink to have this conversation!”

I gaped at him. “You did not just kick my sister out of our house! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“It’s okay,” Gracie said, with a grim smile as she caught my eye. “We’ll touch base later, Codie.” She grabbed her purse and cell phone before pulling me into a hug, whispering in my ear, “Call me later if you need to talk.”

I waited until she left before turning on Mav. “You are going to tell me, right now, why you’re acting like… someone I don’t even know anymore.”

That was a lie.

I did know this version of Mav. We’d dated in high school. He’d ghosted me when I went away to college… apparently because he was so toxic and didn’t want to risk bringing me down with him.

He braced his hands on the counter and hung his head, sucking air into his lungs like he couldn’t breathe. “I…”

“You what?”

“I had a couple of drinks today.”

It felt like the room was suddenly spinning and my stomach was roiling in protest.

He rushed me, trying to pull me into his arms, but I resisted.

This man was the love of my life, my soul mate. Seeing him hurt, hurt me, but I had to stay strong. For my sake, and our son’s.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I know it was stupid. But ever since Chance was born, I’ve been having these—I don’t know—panic attacks, I guess. I’m freaking out. I feel like I can’t even breathe sometimes.”

I felt a chill move through me, freezing me from the inside out. “And you thought drinking would, what, relax you?”

“Yeah, maybe. I don’t know.” He tipped his head back. “Look, I know I screwed up. I’m sorry. I’ll call my sponsor. Go to a meeting.” His look was pleading when he tapped his finger against his temple. “Get right in the head. ‘Cause I’ll be honest with you. Right now, I’m not.”

I was trembling now. On the inside. He couldn’t see it. But I could feel it.

“And you think our son’s birth triggered this?”

I was pissed at him, though I wasn’t sure I had the right to be. When you loved an alcoholic or an addict you understood they could break your heart at any moment.

“I’m scared, baby. I don’t want to fail him the way my old man failed us.”

I didn’t want to sound harsh, but I had to tell him the truth. “The only way you could ever fail Chance is if you bail on him… or don’t put him first.”

He paled. “God, I want to be what he needs me to be.” He tried reaching for me again, but I pulled my hand back, just out of reach. “I’ll get help. I’ll—”

I covered my face with my hands when I heard our baby stirring on the monitor. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now. I can’t even process this.”

His voice broke as I walked away and he whispered, “Codie.”

“What?” I said, without turning around.

“Please, just don’t leave me.”

Our son’s cry on the monitor cut through me because I knew he’d be shedding a million more tears if we couldn’t figure this out.

“I don’t know if I have a choice,” I whispered. “You made me promise I’d never let our son grow up with an alcoholic, like you did.”  

 ❦ ✧ ❦

Chapter Three

Maverick

Two days since I told Codie the truth. And I already felt like I was losing her.

She wasn’t being cold or cruel. That wasn’t Codie’s style. She understood the demons. Had battled them herself, and wouldn’t hate me for succumbing to mine.

She wouldn’t hate me. She wouldn’t even blame or shame me. She would just leave me. Take our baby and leave.

So, as I stared up at the shitty little row house that I’d called home for the first eighteen years of my life, I knew what I had to do. I had to face down the people who’d made me what I was.

My alcoholic mother. My abusive old man.

My son’s grandparents. That hard truth made bile rise in my throat.

Before I lost my nerve, I jumped out of my truck and bounded up the rickety steps. Not much had changed. Overgrown shrubs. Peeling paint. Dirty windows, masking the darkness inside.

I had to knock a few times before my mama finally answered. Not even noon and she already looked half in the bag. Or she hadn’t been to sleep yet.

She pulled the cigarette from between her lips and frowned at me, like she’d never seen me before.

“What do you want?”

Oh, she recognized me. She just didn’t want to see me.

I clenched my jaw and shoved my fists into the pockets of my bomber jacket. “I want to talk to you. Both. Is he around?”

She rolled her eyes and took a step back, tightening her ratty bathrobe with the tie cinched at the waist. “Merle!” she shouted. “Get the hell out here. We got a visitor.”

A visitor. Not your son.

That was okay. I didn’t want to claim them anymore than they wanted to claim me.

He came out from the kitchen wearing a stained wife-beater shirt and plaid pyjama bottoms, scowling when he saw me. “What the hell do you want, boy?”

It had been twenty long years since I’d seen them and I swore I’d never come back, even though my therapist told me one more conversation might help me to get closure.

I didn’t need closure. I just needed to forget.

But being back in the house of horrors, it all came back like an avalanche. The stale smell of booze, cigarettes, old carpets and furniture… windows that hadn’t been open for years.

I could close my eyes and hear the crunch of bone on bone. Screaming. Swearing. Threats. Hiding. Finally… fighting back. The night I left for good, he hadn’t beaten me. I’d beaten him. That’s when he knew his reign of terror was over and he kicked me out.

“Well?” my mama asked, taking a long drag of her cigarette.

I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. She was a skeleton with skin. Eyes that used to be a pretty blue were now cloudy, outlined with dark circles. Her teeth were yellow and chipped, like her nails. Her hair was grey and tousled, like it hadn’t seen a brush in weeks.

This… is where I came from. These were my people. It was a sobering thought.

“You have a grandson.”

They shared a look, raised eyebrows, but I couldn’t tell what they were thinking. Even if they wanted to meet Chance, that would happen over my dead body.

“Yeah, we heard you married that…” My father sneered as he reached for a pack of cigarettes on the scarred hall table and lit one, blowing smoke in my face. “Tattoo artist. That was the one you dated in high school, wasn’t it?”

My relationship with Codie was pretty big news in the country music circles, since she’d inspired most of my hit songs long before we re-connected.

“Yeah, that’s her,” I said, clearing my throat as the smoke burned my eyes.

  “I guess she crawled out of the woodwork when you made all that money, huh?” He chuckled, patting his beer belly as he slicked back the shock of white hair he had left on his head. “They always do.”

“Codie doesn’t need my money,” I said, through gritted teeth. “She has one of the—” Why was I wasting my breath defending my wife to two people I didn’t give a shit about?

I was here for one reason, and one reason only, to convince myself I was nothing like them.

 “Well, you might as well come in here,” my mama said, gesturing to the living room. “Take a load off.”

I’d need to burn my clothes if I sat down in this rat-infested hole, so I followed them into the living room and leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms, while they sat down, staring at me expectantly.

“At least you can’t accuse us of hitting you up for anything,” my old man said, pointing at me as he eased back in his filthy torn recliner. “Never asked anyone for a goddamn red cent in my life and never will.”

Good, because I wouldn’t give it to you.

But I wasn’t here to argue. Or make them feel small. I wasn’t here to get revenge or rub their noses in my success. I was here to remind myself why my last drink had to be my last.

“You still drinking?” I asked my mama. Like I didn’t know.

She scowled at me. “What business is it of yours?”

Because maybe if she’d told me, by some miracle, she’d beat her addiction, I’d believe I could too.

“I’ll take that as a no,” I said, shaking my head.

But could I really be disgusted with her? I’d sat in too many meeting rooms over the past two years, trying to understand the lure of addiction, to punish my mama for making the same choices I had.

“Don’t you come in here acting all holier-than-thou, boy,” my father said to me. “Everybody knows you’re a drunk too.”

A drunk. That word ricocheted around in my head, causing stabbing pain. Because I was terrified my own son would call me that one day.

I couldn’t even claim to be in recovery. I wasn’t. I was starting all over again, from square one. Praying I’d be strong enough to resist the liquid poison today.

“I am who I am because of both of you.” I let my anger and hatred and frustration seep into those words. The meetings preached forgiveness, letting go of blame, but when I was in their presence again, it all came rushing back.

“Then you’re welcome,” my old man said, looking smug.

“It’s not a compliment, you—” I stopped just short of calling him an asshole because I feared if we started trading blows now, I’d never be able to stop beating him.

And my son didn’t deserve a father who was an alcoholic and a criminal.

“You better watch your mouth.” He took a deep drag of his cigarette and blew smoke rings, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“How did this happen?” I asked, suddenly desperate to get the answers I came for. “Why the hell are you both like this?”

They shared a dark look before my mama said, “You’re a product of your upbringing, son. We are. You are. Your son will be—”

“No!”

I was determined my son would not grow up to be like me. And he sure as hell wouldn’t grow up to be like them. God willing, he’d grow up to be smart, strong, talented and resourceful like his mama.

“Deny it all you want,” my old man said, rubbing a hand over the five-day scruff on his weathered face. “But you can’t silence the voices, can you?” He smirked. “You know, the ones that tell you you’re a worthless piece of shit and always will be?”

“That sounds like your voice,” I said, glaring at him. “And it’s obvious you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I made something of myself. I married an amazing woman, have a baby—”

“Yeah, but how long before you screw it all up?” He chuckled. “I’d bet my last dollar you will. People like you and me; we always find a way to lose it all.”

I swallowed the fear, forcing myself to get the words out, “I’m nothing like you.” I glanced at my mama. “I’m not like either of you.”

She laughed. “You’re exactly like us, honey. Mad as hell. Holding on by the skin of your teeth. One drink away from putting a bullet between your eyes.”

“You’re crazy,” I said, feeling the disgust wash over me. “I’ve got too much to live for to—”

“Oh yeah, if your life’s so great, what are you doing here?” the old man asked. “Slummin’ it with us?”

I hated that he could see right through me. Just like he’d always been able to. Looking at him was like looking in a fun house mirror. The reflection was there, but distorted. He wasn’t me, but he could be.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doin’ here,” I said, turning to leave.

“Mav,” the old man called after me. “Make sure you give that boy of yours our address, so he can come calling when he wants to know how he wound up as screwed up as you are.”

His twisted laughter followed me out the door. And I lost my lunch on the front lawn.

My legs were trembling as I made my way to the truck. I sat behind the steering wheel, white-knuckling it as I replayed every word of our conversation.

I reached under the seat. Grabbed the bottle I’d taken a few pulls from the day I told Codie I had two drinks. I’d been meaning to trash it, but couldn’t bring myself to do it.

I opened the door to pour it out on the sidewalk but slammed it shut again, cursing a blue streak before tipping it back and taking a long pull.

It burned me up inside—made me want to set fire to my whole goddamn life… except for Codie and our baby.

My phone buzzed and the text from Codie made my eyes burn too.

Mav, please come home.

How could I go home to her now that I knew the truth?

The old man was right.

I was just as twisted as him. Just as addicted as her. A toxic mix of everything I hated in life.

And now I’d passed that on to an innocent kid.

❦ ✧ ❦

Chapter Four

Codie

I was pacing the living room, listening to the soft sounds of our baby sleeping in his nursery. Oblivious to the anguish brewing in his home.

I’d sworn to myself our son wouldn’t grow up with the chaos and uncertainty that had shaped my childhood, and Mav’s. Yet here we were. He wasn’t even a month old, and it felt like we were writing history, in the worst possible way.

Mav hadn’t responded to the text I’d sent him two hours ago. He’d read it, but failed to respond. I knew exactly what that meant. I just didn’t want to say it out loud.  

My thoughts were spiralling, fear was mounting, as he walked in the door.

He took one look at me— and I saw it. The pain. The guilt.

Mav stood in front of me, unravelling. And this time? I wasn’t sure I could help piece him back together again. Because I was breaking too, and one of us had to hold it together for our son.

Without a word he crossed the feet between us. Drew me into his arms, and buried his face in my neck before kissing me.

I could taste the liquor on him. It had been fifteen years since I’d had a drop of alcohol to drink, but the memory of that taste would never leave me.

“Why?” I whispered, clutching his shirt as the tears slid down my cheeks. “Why are you drinking again, Mav?” My voice broke on a sob. I really wanted to ask him, How could you do this to us? But layering more shame onto his self-hatred wouldn’t help either of us.

“This is who I am,” he whispered, resting his forehead against mine. “I hate it, baby. I hate myself for being so weak. But there’s this goddamn monster inside of me, and I don’t know how to extricate it.”

“Why didn’t you go to a meeting, call your sponsor or me or—”

“It wouldn’t have helped.” He took a step back and looked ravaged when his eyes finally met mine. “Don’t you get it? Nothing and no one can help me.”

My stomach pitched. “Mav, that’s not true. The program helped you before. It can help you again.”

He shook his head. “That was only temporary. I can see that now.” His breathing was shaky as he started pacing in front of me. “I hate that I couldn’t see it before. That I gave you hope. And dragged you into my mess. And Chance—” He tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling. “God, how could I do this to him. I am a worthless, selfish bastard. I don’t deserve you or him—”

“Stop it!” I pleaded, tugging on his arm, desperate to find a way to silence the inner voices tormenting him. “That’s not true. Listen to me.” I grabbed his shoulders, turning him to face me. “That voice in your head?” I tapped my index finger against his temple. “It’s lying to you. Don’t let it win.”  

I knew those voices.

I’d almost let them win once.

But I hadn’t. And I wouldn’t let them claim him either.

“I can’t. Don’t you get it?” He covered his face with his hands. “I tried. With everything in me I tried, but this shit is bigger than me, Codie. It’s in my DNA.”

“What are you talking about?” He was scaring me. Because if he really believed that, I wasn’t sure I could reach him.

“I went to see my parents today.”

I was stunned. Mav hadn’t seen his parents since they kicked him out of the house at eighteen. And even when I’d gently suggested one last conversation, for closure, he assured me he never wanted to see them again.

“You did? Why?” I was afraid to ask the question because I feared the answer would change everything.

“I had to know.” He shook his head, looking disgusted. “If I was anything like them.” He flattened his palm against his chest while tears filled his eyes.

“You’re not.” I cradled his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. To hear me. “You’ve done the work. You’ve gotten the help. You’re healing. You’ve had a setback; that’s all this is.”

He shook his head, looking numb. He was looking into my eyes, but I couldn’t tell he wasn’t really seeing me.

Mav was back in that house. Hearing their voices. Their taunts. Absorbing their cruelty.

“It’s more than that.” His voice was raspy and he had to swallow repeatedly to get the words out. “His blood, their blood, is mine. And our son shares that now.” He closed his eyes. “I hate that I did that to him.”

I felt the pain of his words settle in, bone deep. “Are you saying you wish our son had never been born?”

“God,” he said, letting the tears fall as he curled his hand around the back of my neck. “I’m so sorry. I was so selfish. I should never have pursued you. I convinced you that I could change, you could trust me—”

“Stop this,” I pleaded, wrapping my arms around him. Holding him close. He was shaking. Trembling. So was I. And I didn’t know how to make it stop. “I can trust you.”

“You trusted me not to take a drink,” he rasped in my ear, holding me tight. “You trusted me to be the man you and Chance needed. And I can’t.”

I held my breath, terrified of his next words.

“I won’t put him through this.” He cleared his throat, took a step back, releasing me. “I won’t put you through this.”

I narrowed my eyes, daring him to take the coward’s way out and quit on me again. “What are you saying?”

“I have to go, Codie. I’m sorry.” He broke eye contact, glancing at our framed wedding photo on the mantle. “I have to move out.”

The room tilted. I reached for something solid to hold onto.

He was leaving me with a baby to raise… and suddenly the nightmare of my childhood was repeating itself.

I loved this man. But hated him… for turning my worst fear into my life.   

 ❦ ✧ ❦

Chapter Five

Maverick

Codie watched me in disbelief while I packed a suitcase, as I battled an internal war.

She’d made it clear. There was no coming back from this.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” she said softly, fighting back tears. “You think you’re protecting me, just like you tried to protect me last time. But you’re not.”

I was too choked up to respond. If she was right… I couldn’t afford to find out too late.

She curled her hand around the four-poster bed, leaning her head against the carved wood post. “This isn’t you, Mav. Not anymore. This is the guy you used to be.”

The quiet devastation in her voice hit me harder than her screaming accusations and ultimatums ever could have. Because her pain didn’t just hurt my heart. It ravaged my soul.

This woman—and the baby we’d made together—were my whole world.

Walking out on them would be the hardest thing I’d ever done in my life.

I carried my suitcase into the hall, but before I could descend the stairs, her whispered question stopped me in my tracks. “Aren’t you going to say good-bye to your son?”

That question echoed in my head, causing tremors to move through my body. If I held him, I’d never want to let him go. But if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to cross the hall into his nursery. I stood there watching him sleep, fighting back tears, praying for the strength to do what was right. For him. And Codie.

Not for me. Because leaving them could never be the right thing for me.

I picked him up gently, trying not to wake him, as I cradled him in my arms. Pressing my lips to his forehead, I closed my eyes. Inhaling his scent. Trying to memorize this moment. Needing it to last forever, to get me through the dark days I knew would come.

Codie was standing in the doorway, her arms wrapped protectively around herself. “You don’t have to do this, you know. You can stay. We can figure this out together.”

I cleared my throat, whispering, “This isn’t your problem. And it sure as hell isn’t his. Chance didn’t ask for any of this.”

“He’s just a baby, Mav. He won’t remember any of this. By the time he’s old enough to understand, you could be a different man.”

I would give anything for that to be true. But my old man had been right when he said people like me couldn’t change. We could lie. Pretend. Fake it, for a while. But we always reverted back to the person we were trying desperately to escape.

 Chance stirred as I held him close, absorbing his softness, his sweetness.

Knowing I wouldn’t be there to watch him grow up—

People like you always lose everything. The old man’s voice wouldn’t shut the hell up. 

I forced myself to set him down gently, knowing Codie would ensure he slept in the cradle by our bed—her bed—tonight. If not with her. Maybe she would need his comfort as much as he would need hers.

They’d have each other.

They didn’t need me to ruin it all.

I grabbed my suitcase and Codie followed me down the stairs.

Anger flashed in her eyes when she said, “I never thought you would do this to me again. I trusted you. With my heart.”

I couldn’t stand to look at her, so I closed my eyes to give myself a moment’s reprieve.

“If I’d known it would turn out this way, baby, believe me, I would have left you alone. I really thought I had a handle on this, that I was strong enough to lick it, once and for all.”

“That’s not the way alcoholism works for everyone.” She shook her head, looking disgusted. “For some people, it’s a couple of bad days or weeks followed by a couple of sober years. And that pattern continues for the rest of their lives.”

I’d attended enough meetings to know she was right. But I couldn’t take that chance.

I didn’t know what this spiral would look like. All I knew for sure was that I couldn’t resist the urge to drink right now.  Not even for my family. Not even for the career I’d spent a lifetime building. It felt like this was a part of me. Genetically. And I couldn’t fight it or change it.

I felt helpless. And I hated feeling helpless.

“I love you, Codie—”

“Don’t say that.” She angrily swiped at the tears gliding down her cheeks. “You don’t run out on the people you love.” She sobbed. “My father claimed to love us too. Then he disappeared and left us to fend for ourselves.”

“You know I wouldn’t do that. I’ll still support you and Chance, financially, and—”

“Do you think I want or need your money?” she demanded, letting the rage spill out with every word she spoke. “I don’t give a shit about that. I can support myself and our son. If you walk now, keep walking, Mav.”

The silence was deafening as we stared at each other. It felt like my whole life was hanging in the balance. Still, I reached for the door knob, believing it was my only option.

“You made this choice,” she whispered. “Just remember that.”

It stopped being a choice when I took that first drink.

***

I was alone in my hotel room, staring at the minibar. Pacing as the inner voices taunted and tormented me.

I picked up my phone and stared at the screen. I wanted to call Codie with everything in me.

Instead, I called my sponsor and good friend, Trey Turner. A country music legend who’d navigated the same slippery slope I had, with a different outcome. He got his wife back. Kept his family together. Stayed sober. He was the man they needed him to be.

 “Hey, Mav,” he said. “How’s it going, buddy?” He chuckled. “You guys getting any sleep? I remember when—”

“Trey.” I heaved a sigh in the silence. “I’m losing it, man. I’m losing everything.”

“Relax,” he said, quietly. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I started drinking again.” Saying those words brought on a fresh wave of shame and self-disgust.

“Shit, okay you need to get yourself to a meeting—”

“It’s too late.” I sank down on the end of the bed, dropping my head into my hand. “A meeting won’t fix this. My marriage is over. I’m in a hotel and—”

“Codie kicked you out?” he asked, sounding surprised. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

“I left.”

Trey was quiet so long I though I’d dropped the call.

“Damn it, Mav. Why would you do that?”

It should have been obvious to him of all people. “This problem isn’t going away, Trey. I can’t beat it!”

I jumped up and grabbed a bottle of my favorite poison from the minibar.

Curling my hand around the cool glass bottle, I stared out the window at the skyline of my hometown. The city that had made my dreams come true.  

“You don’t beat alcoholism,” Trey said, sounding weary. “You manage it. One day at a time, like they say.”

“Yeah, well I couldn’t even get through today. I couldn’t get through yesterday.” I felt even more desperate when I shouted, “And I don’t think I can get through tomorrow! I’m just like my goddamn old man—”

“Bullshit,” Trey said, sounding vicious. “You’re nothing like that asshole. You’re trying to change. When did he even make the effort?”

I let that question settle in. Trey was right. My old man had never cared enough, about himself or us, to make that kind of effort.

“Trey, listen to me. I’m losing it. I need you to tell me I did the right thing by leaving—”

“I can’t do that.”

Panic seized me. “What? What are you talking about? You know I couldn’t stay with them, not while I was drinking.”

“You have to decide what’s right for you, Mav. I can’t make that decision for you. But I can tell you this, Codie knew who she was marrying when she married you. An alcoholic. Just like my wife knew. That means it may not be a smooth ride.”

“You don’t understand. I can’t risk ruining their lives.”

“And you don’t think you’re doing that now?” He paused. “You walked out on your kid. That’s the part that should terrify you.”

“Trey…” I was desperate for someone to understand the choice I was making. To tell me I was doing the right thing for my family.

“Mav, you just have to start over, my friend. Right now. Not tomorrow. Get your ass to a meeting and you start the fight all over again. That’s how this works.”

“But I just blew my life up!” It couldn’t be as easy as he was pretending it was. “I left my wife! My son!” Flashes of Chance sleeping peacefully slammed me.

“Yeah, that may have been a mistake. But that’s not for me to say.”

“You’re an asshole.” I wanted to hate him, but it was really myself I hated.

He chuckled. “I’ve been called worse. I’ll text you in the morning. I’m coming to that meeting with you, Mav. We got this.”

I released a shaky breath, followed by another. “Thanks, man.”

I disconnected the call and stared at the screen, whispering, “What the hell have I done?”

I scrolled through the photos on my phone as I gripped the unopened bottle a little tighter. My baby. My wife. My life.  

❦ ✧ ❦

Chapter Six

Codie

I’d been attending 12-step meetings in this very room for more than fifteen years.

It was the same place where Mav first admitted to a roomful of strangers that he was an alcoholic.

And I realized the feelings I’d had for him as a teenager had never really died.

Now he was back. We were back. Except this time, I was hiding behind a room divider, holding my breath and praying I wouldn’t be seen by people who’d become like my second family.

But it was Mav I was really hiding from. I wanted to hear him. Unguarded.

After Trey called to check on me that morning, and casually mentioned he and Mav were attending a meeting, I knew I had to be here.

It was the only way to know whether our marriage was worth saving.

Margaret, the lady running the meeting was like a favorite aunt. So, when I told her me and Mav were on the brink because of his drinking, she encouraged me to stay and hear what he had to say, just out of sight.

I closed my eyes when I heard his voice… “Hi, my name’s Mav. And I’m an alcoholic.”

I snuck a peek as everyone welcomed him.

He didn’t just look disheveled. He looked wrecked. A backwards ballcap. Dark shadows under his eyes. A beard thicker than he’d ever had before. And his hands were shaking so hard he had to curl them into fists at his side.

I was hurt and frustrated that he’d left, but my heart still went out to him.

“I, um…” He looked around the room and cleared his throat. “So, I’d been two years sober. But I, uh, screwed it all up. I drank… two days in a row.”

There was a lot of head nodding and sympathetic looks. These people had been where he was.

“I tried like hell to fight it,” he said, swiping his hands down the front of his faded jeans. “For weeks I tried to fight it. But I couldn’t anymore. I grew up in an abusive home, alcoholic mother and…” He shook his head. “An old man with too many issues to talk about here.”

I could feel my pulse pounding as I waited for him to continue. Hoping he wouldn’t feel betrayed when I eventually told him I’d heard it all.

“But…” He crossed his arms, tipped his head back, like he was fighting to get the words out. “My wife and me, we, uh, had our first baby. And that’s when it hit me like a ton of bricks. I can’t outrun my bloodline. I passed on to my son what my old man passed down to me.”

I could see the hard expression on Trey’s face, and I knew he didn’t agree with Mav any more than I did.

“So, I left.” He blew out a breath. “I left them. The two people who mean more to me than anything in this world. Because I couldn’t stay and let them watch me turn into the man I despise.”

My heart broke for him, but I also wanted to grab him, and shake some sense into him.

“I don’t want to drink,” he admitted. “In fact, I hate the man I am when I drink. So today is day one. Again. I start over.” He held his crossed fingers up. “And I pray for the strength, every day, to keep fighting this thing.”

I watched him twist his wedding ring around on his finger. “I want to be the kind of dad my son deserves. And I pray I can be. Someday. I don’t ever expect them to take me back, or understand why I had to leave. I just hope when I’ve got a handle on my drinking again, maybe my son can be proud of me.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll see.”

The man next to Mav started sharing, but I barely heard him.  

Mav’s words were still haunting me as they moved around the room.

It was clear to me: he was trying to run again. To save us.

That wasn’t happening. Not this time.

***

I was watching him, fearing he’d run as soon as he spotted me.

He paled. Blew out a shaky breath. Tried to retreat, but I caught him at the door.

Grabbing on the sleeve of his jacket, I said, “Hey, can we talk? Margaret said we could use her office next door.”

His hand was shaking when he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t do this right now. God, I can’t even believe you’re here. How did you know—”

“Trey called to check on us this morning. He told me you guys were going to a meeting.”

He nodded, shooting a filthy look in Trey’s direction. “Of course he did.”

Unwilling to take no for an answer, I grabbed his hand and led him into the small office next door.

Closing the door with a quiet click, I turned to face him. “You okay?” I asked gently.

“Do I look okay, Codie?” There were tears filling his eyes before he blinked them away. “I’m a mess. I didn’t even want you to see me like this. And I sure as hell didn’t want you to hear—”

“The truth?” I stepped a little closer, reaching for his hand. “I’m your wife. You shouldn’t be afraid to tell me anything. You know that, right?”

He clenched his jaw before he looked into my eyes and said, “I’m barely hanging on, babe.”

“I know.” My heart ached for him, knowing he felt so alone, but didn’t have to.

“I woke up this morning wanting a drink.”

That was hard to hear, but instead of reacting I asked, “But you didn’t have one?”

He shook his head. “I thought of you and Chance and I couldn’t.”

My smile was grim when I nodded because I knew, as much as Mav loved us, he had to do this for himself. Just like the first time he chose to get sober.

“Have you, um, talked to your therapist about any of this?”

“I’ve got a call scheduled with her later today.”

“Good.” I squeezed his hand. “I’m sure she’ll be able to help you work this out.”

“I don’t know what to do.” His voice was shaky when he took a step closer, curling his hand around my face. “I feel like I don’t even have the right to touch you.”

I wrapped my hands around his shoulders and whispered, “You do.”

“Is Chance with your mama?”

I nodded. “Yeah, she came over to the house.”

He grimaced. “God, does she know about this? She’ll wanna crucify me. She told me if I ever hurt you again…” He smirked. “That she’d kill me. And it would be worth whatever time she got.”

“That’s my mama.” She was loud, bossy, opinionated. Tough as nails. And fiercely protective of her daughters. “No, I didn’t tell her anything about you drinking again… or leaving.”

“I hate that I have to do this, baby—”

“You don’t.”

He frowned. “What are you talking about? Of course I do. I’m drinking again—”

“You had a drink yesterday. And the day before.” I looked him in the eye as my stomach quivered, wondering if he could even hear me, or was too far gone. “You haven’t had one today.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No buts.” I touched my fingertip against his lips. “We only have today, Mav. That’s what they teach us, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m still struggling—”

“Aren’t we all?”

“Not you.” He shook his head. “You’re never tempted to have a drink—”

I laughed. “You would be wrong.”

“Seriously?”

We didn’t talk a lot about our temptations, but that didn’t mean mine had faded away.

“Yeah, when I’m in a social situation, it’s still hard sometimes. But I know there’s only one choice I can make. I’ve worked too hard to build a life I love to let alcohol steal it from me.”

“I wish I could be as strong as you are.”

“I have more than fifteen years of sobriety under my belt, babe. You had two. You know it gets easier. And sometimes, like now, it gets harder.”

“I hate that I let him win.”

I didn’t have to ask to know he was talking about his father. “He hasn’t won anything. You may have gotten off course, but I don’t believe for a second that you’ll stop fighting this. You’re not him. You won’t ever be him.” I grabbed his face in my hands, leaning in and speaking slowly, when I said, “And neither will our son.”

  “You don’t know how much I want to believe that.”

I smiled and said, “I’ll just have to keep telling you until you start accepting it as fact.”

He released me, taking a step back. “Codie, you’re way too good for me. You deserve someone who’ll—”

“Don’t you dare tell me that!” Now I was getting pissed off. I was done listening to him tear himself apart. “I chose you. And I’ll never stop choosing you.”

His broad shoulders slumped when he said, “I can’t let you do that.”

I folded my arms. “You don’t have a choice.”

“Yeah… I do.”

“You’re not doing this to us,” I said, cursing the tremble in my voice as I raised my chin. “You’re not bailing on me. Or our son. You love us. We love you. We’ll figure this out together—”

“I can’t do that to you guys.”

“We’re family.” I glared at him, daring him to challenge me. “Family. Stays. Even when things get hard, Mav.”

He looked at me like I was crazy. “Why would you want to stay with me?”

“Because I love you. I believe in you. And I know you’re stronger than your urges. You’re braver than your father. And your desire to be a good dad trumps everything.”

“Why the hell can’t I see myself the way you see me?”

“Because you see yourself through his eyes.” It seemed so simple to me. “And I see you through my eyes.”

He smirked, but still looked so sad. “Can I borrow your eyes when I need them?”

“Anytime.”

He looked at the door, then back at me. His inner struggle was almost palpable.

His breath hitched. “I’ve got to go, Codie. Give Chance a kiss for me, okay?”

I bit my lip, refusing to let him see how much it hurt to fight for us… while he walked away.

“Come home and you can give him a kiss yourself.”   

“You know I can’t do that.”

“You can’t? Or you won’t?”

He shook his head. “This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Just know that.”

“No, hard is getting through the day without a drink today. Hard is staying when you want to run. It’s facing your fears so you can silence those goddamn voices in your head telling you you’re worthless, Mav!” I was so mad, so frustrated, I was shaking.

He pulled me close, pressing his lips against my forehead. “I love you.”

“Then start proving it. Stay.”

“If I could, you know I would.”

“Bullshit.” I took a step back, swiping at my tears. “You can. You just choose not to.”

And I couldn’t believe I was watching my soul mate give in to fear… again.

   ❦ ✧ ❦

Chapter Seven

Maverick

The thirty-day chip dug into my hand, as I sat in my truck, staring at our forever home.

Codie thought I was here to see my son.

But I didn’t want to visit.

I wanted my life back.

I forced myself out of the truck. One foot in front of the other. Deep breaths. Silent prayers.

Codie met me at the door with a faint smile. “Hey, I didn’t want you to ring the doorbell. Chance is still down for his nap. But he should be up soon.” She stepped back. “Come in. You want a coffee or anything?”

“No, thanks.” I hated that she’d started treating me like a guest in our home. But I knew I deserved it.

“Have a seat.” She gestured to the sofa in the living room. “I just have to—”

“Codie.” I wanted to reach for her, hold her, but I’d forfeited that right when I walked out of Margaret’s office and quit on her. On us. “Can we talk, before Chance wakes up?”

She frowned, curling her arms around her mid-section. “Okay.”

She was trying to protect herself. From me. She’d put up guards again. The same ones it had taken me over a year to tear down the first time I walked back into her life promising to get sober.

I handed her my thirty-day chip without saying a word.

My wife looked at it before passing it back to me. Her expression was neutral when she said, “Congratulations, Mav. It’s a step in the right direction.”

I’d destroyed us. It had never been clearer to me than it was right now.

The warmth, love and support she’d shown me were hiding behind her walls now.

I drew a breath, held it, let it out slowly. Trying to find words that wouldn’t come.

“I love you, baby.” Those were the only words that seemed to matter now. “And our son. More than anything. I hate that I wasn’t strong enough to—”

She raised a hand. “No apologies necessary. I get it.”

She walked away from me, into the kitchen, and I stared after her, feeling like I’d been drop-kicked.

I watched her prepare a bottle for Chance before following her as I battled the inner voice telling me it was too late to save my marriage.

I leaned over the kitchen island and bit my lip, choosing my words carefully. “I miss what we had. I want that back.”

She scowled at me, like I’d lost my mind. “You can’t have it back, Mav. You chose to leave. You think you can just walk back in here like nothing happened? Like you didn’t break my heart when you walked away. Again.”

“Tell me what I have to do,” I pleaded. “I’ll do anything.”

She shook her head, looking disgusted. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“I don’t believe that.” I stepped in front of her when she tried to leave the room. “I can’t accept that. I can’t lose you.”

She took a step back, wearing her anger like a mask. “You lost me when you left me, Mav. After you promised you never would.”

“I know, but I was in a dark place, sweetheart. It’s better now—”

“It’s been one month,” she said, raising her index finger. “And I’m supposed to believe you’ve got it all together and will never hurt me again?” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

I loved her strength. Her conviction. It was one of the many reasons I’d fallen in love with her. But right now, I’d do anything to see just a hairline fracture in her armour.

“I’m not asking you to believe me. I’m just asking you for a chance to prove—”

“No.”

That one word sucked all of the air out of my lungs. “No? You won’t give me another chance?”

“I wanted to help you through this, Mav. You wouldn’t let me. That’s when you sent the message loud and clear. We’re not partners. You’re an island. And you sure as hell don’t need me.”

“God, baby,” I said, feeling panicked as I grabbed her hand, prepared to hit one knee and start begging, if that’s what it took. “That’s not true. I do need you. I can’t do any of this without you.”

“What changed?” she asked, withdrawing her hand.

“I, uh—”

“I assume you’re still in therapy?”

“Twice a week. Meetings at least three times a week. I’ve been working at this like it’s my job, Codie. You gotta believe me.”

She nodded slowly. “I do believe you. But I want to know what’s changed. Why do you, all of a sudden think, you’re ready to come home and be a different man? One who wouldn’t leave when things got hard?”

I was stunned by her question, and wasn’t sure I had the answer she needed. But I needed to dig deep and find it because it felt like our entire future together was hanging in the balance.

“I’m not running away from myself anymore,” I said, thinking about the last conversation I’d had with my therapist. “When I took those drinks, I was trying to escape who I thought I was. The son of these people who—” I shook my head. “No, you know what, I’m not gonna do that. It’s not their fault.” That was one of the many epiphanies I’d had over the past month.

She raised an eyebrow, looking curious. “It’s not?”

“No.” I took a deep breath, followed by another. “I’ve been working on forgiving them. I’m not there yet, honestly, but I’ll get there.”

She nodded. “I get that. Forgiving my father seemed to take forever. And honestly, I still have days where I feel like I’d spit on him if I saw him walking down the street.”

I smiled, surprised I was able to feel any amusement, with my gut twisting.

“My therapist’s helping me see them differently. Not as monsters... just broken. People who never healed.” I shrugged. “Maybe they were scared. Maybe they didn’t have the resources. I don’t know. All I do know is that I can heal.”

“Yeah, you can,” she said, her expression softening. “We all can.”

 “I can heal from the shitty childhood. I don’t have to let it define me anymore.”

“No, you don’t.”

I closed my eyes, battling the raw emotion. “The point is, they don’t matter to me anymore. What matters is you and our son. And I’ll fight for you guys, for one more chance to make us a family, with everything I have.”

“Those are words, Mav. The first time you got sober, I believed you when you promised you’d stay, no matter how bad it got.” She blew out a breath, looking frustrated. “How am I supposed to trust you again?”

She had every right to doubt me. I got that. But when the person you loved more than anything in the world couldn’t believe in you anymore, it cut deep.

“Just let me earn your trust back, Codie. Please? One day at a time?”

She looked at me like she was fighting an internal war and I finally saw that crack in her armour I’d prayed to see when she reached for my left hand.

Twisting the band on my finger as she looked at it, she whispered, “We all have scars, Mav. And I’m no different than you are.”

“I know, baby.” Her fingers were bare, and that made my chest tighten.

“As a kid, the message I got was always the same.” She swallowed, twisting the gold band. “Men can’t be trusted. They’ll hurt you. They’ll leave. You have to take care of yourself.”

And I hated that I’d reinforced her mama’s messages. Even after I’d promised to be the one and only guy Codie could trust.

I took a risk and pulled her close, breathing a sigh of relief when she hesitated... then softened. Just a little. But it was enough.  

“But I’m not my mama,” she whispered. “And living life with your defenses up, expecting to be hurt, is exhausting.”

I held her tight, wrapping my hand around the back of her head, cradling her, as a wave of fierce protectiveness washed over me.

I’d promised to protect her. To be the man she could count on, the one who would help her to believe that not all men walked away.

Except I had.

Holding her beautiful face in my hands, I leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away.

When she didn’t, I kissed her.

And it felt like breathing, for the first time in a month.

We had a long way to go. But it was a start.

 “Where do we go from here?” I whispered in her ear.

She tipped her head back to look me in the eye. “Like you said, trust is earned, Mav. One day at a time. I can’t make any promises. Neither can you. But we’re both here, and this feels like it could be a fresh start.”

The tension I’d been living with for months finally started to uncoil as I kissed her again.

I wasn’t expecting to come back home today. Or even tomorrow. But here, with her and our son, was where I belonged. And I’d battle my demons every damn day, if that’s what it took, to become the man who deserved them.

***

❤️ Want More of Mav & Codie?

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—Cheryl xoxo