When They See Us (Book 1.0)

Chapter Twenty-Four

I've kissed her numerous times since we started dating, but this is different. It's as if my body has gotten more sensitive to her touch, smell, the sound of her moans in my ear, and most notably, the taste of her tongue in my mouth.

My hands glide down to her ass and grab it for added support as I walk out of the water with her still attached. Our kiss remains unbroken throughout the transition, and I linger for a moment over the beach chaise. I straddled the chair before lowering us down onto it.

We finally break apart and sit in silence to calm our breathing. "Hi," She whispers.

I push her blonde hair behind her ears. "Hi," She grins at my response and spins around to face her back to my front.

I recline on the large chair, and she leans into me, wrapping my arms around her. We sit and peacefully watch the waves crash against each other and roll out. When I look at her arms, I notice that many of the bruises and injection sites have faded away. I'm really proud of her for not relapsing thus far. It makes me wonder why she started in the first place.

"Mays?" she hums, not taking her eyes off of the water. "What happened to your mother?"

She tenses for a split second. I take both of her hands in mine, letting her know I'm right there with her. She relaxes and begins to rub my palms.

"It's difficult to explain, but when we were about 11 years old, a woman stopped by and seemed to recognize Daniel. They argued briefly before she left. Daniel was terrified to see her, almost as if she were a ghost. She brought a car to the park a few days later and gave it to my mother. I wasn't supposed to look, but I did, and in the trunk were large bags of white powder. I didn't know what they were at the time, and since I was a child, I minded my own business and didn't ask too many questions."

"So that's when your mother started getting into drugs?" She shakes her head.

"My mom and Daniel were expecting a child the summer before our 7th grade year. I'm not sure if they were just selling it when the woman arrived, but they got involved. I don't believe my mother ever touched the cocaine...." she stops, and I don't say anything, not wanting to interrupt.

"She was told after seven months that the baby did not survive to full term. She had to push him out as a stillborn, and it broke her. To get through it, she and Daniel smoked marijuana to ease their nerves. That's when it started. I remember smelling it around the house and not liking it one bit. It wasn't enough for her though. She thought she needed more to relax her nerves and get to sleep, so she looked up old connections of Daniel's. Daniel was an addict when he and my mother first met, and she saved him from the addiction. She eventually got into heroin, and I came home from school one day after she injected herself with it and... she overdosed."

She pauses, and I hear sniffling. "I remember screaming and shaking her to wake her up. I kept wondering to myself why she would do it. I get that one of her children died, but why could she not see that there was still another one that needed her. That day she was taken away by ambulance, and I never saw her again. CPS took me, and I was put into the system. Months had passed, and I lived in toxic foster homes until Daniel could prove he was a fit parent. Eventually, he did, and he was able to adopt me. But the damage had already been done. I always told myself he only adopted me because he felt terrible for not being able to stop her. I hated him for a while."

She sighs and wipes her tears away. "I had nightmares every night seeing my mother overdosing. The pills were never helping, so Daniel gave me something that would. I became just as addicted as they were. I hated her every day for leaving me and causing the traumatic event that led me to drugs... I was so lost."

I pull her into me, hugging her close as my heart breaks for all she's had to endure. She cries harder, drawing her knees up to sob into them.

I'm sure she hasn't spoken about this in a long time. I feel that at this moment, with the drugs out of her system, she was now fully able to feel all the pain she had suppressed for the past three years. I never knew my biological mother, dad never talked about her, and I never questioned her. As far as I'm concerned, Elliot was always my mom. It's hard for me to be upset that my birth mom was never around. But for Macy to have known her mother, cherished her, and then lose her. I couldn't imagine how that felt.

Macy begins to slip into one of her panic attacks, and I know I have to pull her back like I've done many times. "Hey, Mays, I need you to breathe."

Every time she breaks down like this, a piece of me breaks for her. I know that my turning into mush won't help the situation, but it hurts to see her like this. Her breathing is becoming erratic, so I push her forward, turning her to face me on the chaise. She's sobbing uncontrollably, and I lift her chin so her eyes can meet mine as she begs for oxygen.

"Baby girl, I need you to control your breathing. I know it might feel impossible, but you need to. Just listen to the sound of my voice." I smooth her hair down, and she nods her hand, attempting to stop her attack, but her eyes close, and the tears fall heavier this time.

"Mays, I know it feels like the world is collapsing around you right now, but you are not alone. You will never have to be alone again because I will always be at your side."

When Macy has these episodes, her drug cravings intensify tremendously. I don't want her to relapse. It's possible to overdose during detox because the body's need for narcotics is diminished. She can't even smoke anymore to destress because the doctor made her stop.

I started the breathing exercises the doctor taught us, and she began to mimic them. These always seem to help her get out of it.

"I'm sorry Addy, sometimes they just happen. I can't control them," I smoothed her sweaty hair and pulled her forehead to my lips, planting a kiss.

"I know Mays, and I will be here every day if needed to help you through them," I say truthfully.