The Redemption Read Online Free Page A

strong.
    My heart starts racing after entering through the large wrought iron gates of the rehab in Santa Barbara. The cobblestone driveway is lined with short pristine grass and flowering bushes. It winds around a large fountain and there’s a bench off to the right that overlooks a large ocean vista. With doubts and the possibility of regret seeping in, I glance back to Dex. When he finally turns and looks at me—his own pain and regrets are showing. I’m betraying him, but I can’t help but think this is seated in the best of reasoning. I apologize anyway. “I’m sorry.”
    He looks away from me again and as soon as the car comes to a stop he gets out without hesitation, then slams the car door shut. Tommy sighs, glancing at me before he reluctantly gets out.
    When I get out, I overhear Tommy say, “It’s only two weeks, man. You need to clean up, clean out. You know the deal with the band. If you’re using, you’re out.”
    Dex pushes past him and spits, “Fuck off, Tommy.”
    He treats me worse. The glare he gives me comes without any words at all.
    A woman walks out with a clipboard and a fake smile to greet him. He doesn’t look back before the door is slammed shut. From this point on it’s up to him.
     

     
    One and a half years later…
     
    The curtains puff like sails of a ship as the wind slips in through the small crack of the open door. The weather is turning from cool to warm as spring settles in, reminding me that the grass needs to be mowed again. I should call the lawn service in the morning and get them back on a regular schedule.
    My mind can’t rest despite how much I wish to sleep, so I roll over and grab the journal I’ve come to rely too much on and begin writing.
     
    Dear Cory,
    The night is always the hardest—nightmares plague my sleep. I go to bed hoping for the best, but the best has become the worst.
     
    Closing my eyes, I squeeze my lids tight, hoping to stop the inevitable. But when I release them, the tears I’ve become too acquainted with are there for their encore—night after night the memories come back.
     
    I see you in my dreams. I’m transported back to when we were seventeen and I taught you how to play guitar. The way you looked at me, the way you learned the notes by studying my fingers, and when I caught you stealing glances… this perfect moment in our lives has become a nightly haunting for me. In the last two years, my memories have stilted my ability to play guitar without you. My loneliness is most exposed at this dark hour.
    I miss you so much. All the time.
    XO
     
    Sitting up, I grab for his pillow beside me and hold it to my nose, inhaling. His scent is gone. It used to be strong and comforted me when he traveled. His smell has left me, just like he did. So I throw the pillow across the room.
    The curtains blow again, so I get up and slam the door shut before stepping over the pillow and crawling back in bed. The tightening in my chest starts to ease; the heartache of losing my soulmate lessens as I begin to drift off.
     

     
    “I’m tired, Neil. Can you please have some cereal this morning instead?” I look over at my seven-year-old and my heart momentarily stops altogether. At least once a day this happens. Neil has my eye coloring and olive skin, but his hair and the way he smiles is just like Cory. I turn back to the counter quickly before I get lost, staring at him ‘again’ as he puts it. He doesn’t even have to beg, these kids own me. “Fine, I’ll make you scrambled eggs.”
    “Thanks, Mom,” he replies, a drumstick beating against the top of his thigh.
    A sleepy little guy leans his head against my leg, one of Cory’s T-shirts in hand. It’s become a security blanket for him. With my free hand, I rub the top of his light brown hair, and say, “Good morning, buddy.”
    My three-year-old looks up and says, “Morning.” His blue eyes flash with an inner happiness.
    “Are you hungry, CJ? I’m making eggs.”
    He nods as he