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January 2020

I stared at the letter in my hand. I wasn't exactly sure how long I had been staring at it but I really wasn't sure what to do with it, with the information it held.

"Have you seen him since...since he's gone in?" I finally spoke setting the letter aside and looking across the table at Greg.

"Yeah, he's doing good. I think he'd be better if he saw you."

"I don't know if I can," I replied taking a sip of my iced coffee and continuing to pick at my fruit salad.

"It won't hurt to try," he urged trying to make eye contact.

"Except it does. Every time I see a picture or hear his voice on the radio it kills me. Because I should not be hiding away at home, and he should not be at some rehab, we should be getting ready to have a baby."

"Mol, I'm not going to pretend I understand what it feels like, but he does. He lost something that day too. He's trying to get better for you. It killed him just as much as it hurt you, and I think if anything at least go; and see if it doesn't fix anything, maybe it will give you some closure."

I was at a loss for words because Greg was right, and as much as I disliked the idea, going to see Ryan might help.

"Life would be so much easier if I had just picked you. If that day at the Bluebird I felt some sort of spark and we could just be together without complications."

"It might have been easier. But you've been Ryan's since the day you walked into the bar the night, we met you. I saw the way you looked at him when we were on stage, but I was selfish. I wanted you to myself, but that wasn't in the cards for us. I want you to be happy Mol. I want you to have what Shannon and I have, even if it's not with Ryan. But that means, you have to go and see him."

I let out a heavy sigh and rolled my eyes, "ya know, for a stoner you're like ridiculously smart."

"Um, I... might have also played him the song,"

"The song?" I had written a bunch of songs over the last nine months. It was like therapy whether anyone heard them or not was a different story.

"Um it didn't have a title. The night you slept at the studio, before I woke you up, I listened to what you recorded. It was really good Moll; you need to release it."

"I'm not releasing anything, and you shouldn't have listened to that. Jesus Greg, some boundaries wouldn't kill you!"

"It was just...there and it looked like you'd been crying. Kinda just wanted to check on you."

"You still had no right, AND you let him listen?! Some things are personal. Ya know what, I'm going home," I fumed throwing some money on the table and leaving the cafe in a storm. Greg knew chasing after me would be pointless with me this upset. I needed my space to clear my head and hopefully, I made the right decision regarding facing the issues with Ryan.

******************

I looked around the expansive lobby taking in the facility that looked more like a country club than rehab.

"Can I help you?"

I turned towards the receptionist. She was a friendly looking middle-aged woman. She had rosy cheeks and was plump, with curly blonde hair. For some reason she reminded me of Mrs. Clause, but shook the idea out of my head before stepping closer to the desk.

"Yes, hi I'm here to see Ryan-"

"Ol?.."

I startled at the call of my nickname, the one only he called me, and turned around to see him. Ryan. I hadn't seen him in person since I kicked him out of the hospital room, but from what I saw in magazines and social media he looked like he had finally hit rock bottom. That wasn't the guy standing there though. It was the Ryan I had fallen for. Hard. He was toned and lean and looked healthy, almost happy but the spark in his eye was dimmed a bit.

"I wasn't sure if you'd actually come," he said approaching cautiously.

"I wasn't...I...I..." I felt sick. I couldn't catch my breath, and it felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. I hadn't experienced this sort of anxiety since our first big show. Just like last time, Ryan was right there to calm me.

"Ol, hey look at me. You're fine, baby. I'm right here. Deep breaths."

Ryan cupped my face gently and wiped the tears that had escaped. I took deep breaths and relaxed into his touch.

"Better?" He asked as I nodded, "C'mon, I'll show you around, how about that?"

"Yeah, Okay. I'm fine."

I quickly moved out of his touch as Ryan tried to hide his hurt. There was a time when we couldn't keep our hands off each other, even if it were innocent touches, we always had some form of contact. It was like we were strangers now, and it killed him to look at the girl he loved so much and not know what I was thinking or feeling like he used to.

"Alright, good. I'll show you around."

Ryan showed me the entire building. I had been to multiple rehabilitation facilities in Indiana but none of them were as nice as this. Finally, after the gym, the recreational area, and cafeteria, which was more of a restaurant than anything, and room he was staying in they stopped in front of a door.

"So, this is it, you ready?"

"No, but I don't think I'll ever be."

Ryan grabbed my hand and knocked on the door. A middle-aged man opened up and smiled at us.

"Right on time. Let's get to it.

I took a deep breath before going in the room. I had been avoiding therapy for years, but unfortunately, my sister was right. I couldn't run from my problems forever.