When Two Rivers Meet

Chapter Twenty Two

Carrie smiled at Isaiah as he spoke to his grandma Karen and grandpa Jim about the past month and a half. His grandpa Stephen and grandma Carole had visited him the week before. He was grinning widely at the old couple who hadn't seen him in several months. He missed them just as much as they missed him.

"Maybe we should let you get some rest now," Mike's mom rubbed her grandson's arm, looking deep into his blue eyes.

"You're doing better than I would ever be," the grandpa chuckled, bringing his fist up to touch his knuckles with Isaiah's. "Way to stay strong, kid." The little boy proudly hit his fist against his grandfather's.

"Is daddy coming back?" Isaiah asked Carrie, staring at her as her phone was to her ear.

"Is he?" Karen chimed in, wanting to see her son.

"He's not answering his phone," she sighed. "Do you mind staying here with Isaiah while i go get him at the house?"

"Not at all!" Jim joyfully said. He was trying to be as cheerful around Isaiah as he could. For his sake and his grandson's.

"Thank you! I'll be back soon!" She grabbed her purse and keys, rushing out of the hospital.

•

Calmly walking into the house, the blonde looked around the corner, trying to locate her husband.

"Mike?" She called out, wondering where he was. His car was outside so she immediately assumed he was in the home. She yelled his name again, not getting any response. Searching the kitchen, garage, and upstairs, there was still no sign of Mike. Becoming a little worried, Carrie walked into the bedroom, sitting on their bed and gathering thoughts about where he could be. Before she tried calling his phone again, she heard the back door slam shut and foot steps dragging on the hardwood floor.

Springing up from the bed, she ran down the stairs, stopping in front of the brunette. "Where have you been?" She looked at him, noticing something was way off.

"No where," Mike pushed past Carrie, and made his way into the kitchen. The alcohol on his breathe gave away everything. Carrie followed behind him, watching him as he stumbled to the cabinets. He grabbed the half bottle of whiskey and began to chug it the remaining liquid.

The wife walked over to him, ripping the bottle away from his hands. "What are you doing?" She wanted to scream but reminded herself to stay calm.

The drunken hockey player shrugged his shoulders, not looking into Carrie's eyes. "It doesn't hurt as much." The truth came out when he was drunk and Carrie knew exactly what he meant. She understood that in his mind, being intoxicated took away the pain of the whole situation with his dying son. Her eyes softened as she watched him put his head in his hands, beginning to bawl.

She set the bottle on the island and took a seat next to him on the floor, rubbing his back and wrapping her arms around his neck. "Babe," she began to say, but couldn't finish. She had nothing else to say. They were both hurting and needed this. Going through this was excruciating for the both of them.

Crying together on the kitchen floor, the married couple never said a word. They used actions to express their feelings that had been bottled up. They let out all of the tears that they had held in for so long. They stayed there for an hour, not worrying about Mike's parents at the hospital.

Carrie kissed Mike's jawbone and rubbed the back of his neck. "I promise everything will get better." She whispered, telling herself the same thing.