You asked, I delivered. This is the official sequel to my very first story on this website, "Break the Cycle".
This story begins exactly where "Break the Cycle" left off; Christmas Day. It's a day of celebration for the Cerulli f...
A/N: I honestly should just put a trigger warning on this entire story but I'll be nice and put them on individual chapters when needed, which starting now, will be often.
Trigger Warning: If you are or ever have been suicidal, this chapter may be triggering to you. If you have ever lost a loved one to suicide, it may also be triggering.
Chris' POV.
Riley is at work and their manager gave Max the day off. Sabrina is out to dinner with some friends and I'm in the car with Max, her knee bouncing.
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"You okay?" I ask.
She nods, staring out the window, "Yeah, just...anxious. And nervous."
"I bet she is too."
"I hope she's doing better."
"I'm sure she is. She's doing this for you. Believe me, she'd do anything for you."
"How do you know?"
"Because I've seen the look in her eye when she's talked about wanting to protect you. I know that look. I've had that look. Trust me, I know."
Max sighs, "I guess I'm just afraid. As horrible as it sounds, I'm afraid of what my mom will be like sober. I mean, I know her drinking has only gotten worse over the last few months since Dad died, but even before that, she had a problem. I just don't know what to expect."
I shrug, "Expect a normal person."
Max snorts, "I don't even know what normal is anymore."
"Well, maybe we'll find out today." I say as we pull up to the facility.
We get out of the car and walk inside. I walk up to the front desk. The secretary looks up at me and smiles.
"Hi. Are you checking in?"
I give her a deadpanned look, "No."
Max snickers and bites her lip to try and prevent herself from laughing.
"We're here to see Evelyn Taylor. This is her daughter, Maxine." I continue.
"And you are?"
"Christopher Cerulli."
"You're Maxine's guardian?"
"At the moment, yes."
The secretary types a few things into the computer, "Okay, one moment."
x
Max and I are escorted to a lounge area. I turn to her.
"I don't look like a drug addict, do I?" I ask, referring to what the secretary said.
Max laughs, "Well, you don't exactly look like the average male American. Besides, how do we know you don't get all your money from selling dope or something?" Max jokes.
