All of Me

21

Liz's pov

I was so happy that we were finally moving out of the traphouse.

I was ready to be in my own space, even though Jake, Sam and Colby were only a couple of steps away.

It made me feel more independent to be on my own, and I think it would be more healthy for the baby if I was in a quiet environment.

I was happy to have made such a huge step, and it felt like I was truly having a grasp on this adulting thing.

Time flies by, and it feels like I really haven't had time to enjoy it since I've been so caught up in my relationship with Colby and reminiscing on the one I had with Isaac.

I sometimes wonder what made me fall for such a loser like him, even though I could admit that his smile had once appeared charming and his words had once seemed interesting.

I didn't know if I deserved what happened to me, but I was the one who decided not to leave Isaac after finding out what he was getting himself into.

I let myself fall with him, thinking that maybe if we did drugs together we'd end up together.

Oh, boy was I wrong. I wasn't even close to right.

What I didn't know now, was whether I was truly happy or just distracted enough to be okay with my current situation.

There was a gentle knock on my door, and I shouted, "It's open!" just as Colby strolled in.

I could tell we were silently trying to repair our broken relationship.

I didn't know how I could still trust him after the entire Kansas situation.

But everyone makes mistakes, and I could kind of understand what was going on in his mind then.

But now? He was getting harder to read. I knew he pretended to be happy around me when he was anything but.

He didn't talk. Our love was still there but the words in between were long gone.

"Hey," I greeted, as I laid a rug out in front of my new couch, "How'd it go?"

Today, Sam and Colby had gone back to court to settle everything for their arrest.

"It was fine," Colby said, flopping down on my couch, "I'm tired out though,"

"Yeah I bet. That shit's exhausting," I said, briefly remembering how long and painful it was to sit in court and have to go through a hearing.

"You shouldn't be doing that," Colby said as I began to pull my new coffee table over my rug.

"It's not heavy," I lied, "It's just big,"

"I can literally see you huffing," He said, sitting up and helping slide the coffee table in front of him.

The table was nice, a white wooden table to match my light gray couch.

Since I had no real source of income, I really had to limit my spending on furniture.

So besides a bed, couch and coffee table, this apartment was bare.

It wouldn't be that way for long, since we still had to get baby furniture and supplies.

There was a little bedroom right next to mine, and I was so excited for when I could fill it with stuff for the baby.

I was really trying my hardest to keep a positive mindset, because I know that once I am truly by myself for an extended period of time I might start slipping on my sobriety.

Mentally, I was a wall that was crumbling against the weather of my monster.

I didn't know how to ask for help.

"Liz?" Colby asked, as I looked up from where I was sitting on the floor.

I didn't remember sitting down, but he seemed very concerned.

"You okay?" He asked, and when I looked into his eyes, there was something in those ocean pools that made me almost want to tell him everything.

But I didn't know where to start.

"Yeah, I'm just tired I guess," I gave him a reassuring grin.

He reached out his hand, and I grabbed it gently. I let him guide me onto the couch, and luckily it was wide enough that I could lay on my side next to him.

My bump made it difficult to lay on my back or stomach, and I knew that it was just the beginning of the difficulties this baby would give me.

It would be worth it though.

He laid down next to me, and I briefly remember how often we slept on the various couches at the Traphouse.

They were so tiny compared to this one, so I'd have to lay on top of Colby, or something of that sort.

I remember the few times, mainly after Sam and Colby came home from Florida, where he'd sleep with his head on my stomach.

I missed that, but it would be a long time before that could be accomplished again.

I rested my head on his chest, opposite of where his tattoo was.

His hand wrapped around my backside, and I couldn't help but feel at peace.

I wish everything could be like this between us.

There are so many problems that keep it from being that way.

It was one of the few times where the loneliness stopped chipping at my heart.

I hated how vulnerable I've become.

Everything was stressful, and nobody was here to help.

If I couldn't drown myself out with whiskey or suffocate my sorrows with meth, then the least I could do is hide from them in Colby's arms.