Surviving Love Read Online Free PDF

wasted every night from the bar—more than normal.  
    I reach for the last clear bottle in the cupboard and down the vodka. It burns the back of my throat. I choke slightly as I soak my mouth in an attempt to become numb. I take another long chug when Reggie rounds the corner into the kitchen.  
    I haven’t looked at him in weeks. I haven’t really looked at anyone in weeks. As I finally focus on him, I see that he looks worn out. Stress undoubtedly has taken over his appearance, making him look older.  
    “You might want to take it easy with that.” His voice is demanding, pissing me off. What does he know anyways? His life has never taken a turn so horrible, therefore he really doesn’t have a say on how I deal with my emotions.  
    “And why’s that?” I ask without really caring what his answer is.  
    “I’ve reached out to Cindy—the social worker who helped me get custody of Presley—and she’s assigning herself to Mia’s case.” Reggie moves in closer and stands in front of me, crossing his arms over his chest—his typical authoritative stance. “Apparently, she’s managing things in the department now and has the authority to get things moving.”  
    “Thank you,” I whisper back to Reggie and then take another sip. The liquor is starting to take effect as my limbs start to go numb. The pain from today starts to slowly wash away in my now vodka soaked system.  
    Reggie motions for the bottle by stretching his hand out to me. “Hand it over, Drake. You have a meeting with Cindy in the morning, and if you go in smelling like booze, I highly doubt things will go well for you.”  
    Reluctantly, I pass the bottle over to Reggie and watch him screw the cap on then put the bottle back into the cupboard. He shakes his head at the empty cupboard. “Looks like Jake’s been self-medicating, too.”  
    “I better call Rich at the plant and tell him what happened. I sort of left without saying a word. Hopefully I still have job there. I can’t afford to be without a job right now.”  
    I move from the kitchen and quickly call Rich’s cell phone, leaving a message. I know my job is now in jeopardy, however my family will always come before a job. Mia is my priority, and getting her back into my arms is the only concern I have now.  
    Once my message is left, I head to the bathroom, stripping my body of its clothes and standing under the warm water of the shower. I face the stream falling from the faucet and bend my head forward. Using my left hand, I plant my palm on the wall of the shower to keep myself upright as the water streams down my back. My shoulders, back and arms throb from the police restraining me, yet nothing hurts more than reliving Mia being ripped from my arms. The physical pain of her being jerked from my body hurts more than anything I’ve ever experienced.  
    I can feel the emotions bubble to the surface again when I think of my baby in someone’s house. I can hear her screaming as she’s being escorted down the driveway. Her arms stretched out toward me, begging me to save her. The sight and sound is gutting. I’ve been sliced apart once again. It’s too much to handle right now. The constant ache settled in my chest feels like it’s been sliced wide open, bleeding profusely now that I’ve lost my daughter.  
    I vowed to Presley days ago not to worry about Mia—that she’d always be protected—and I failed once more. I couldn’t protect her. I’ve failed. I’m a failure.  
    I was doing so well—I haven’t cried in a week—but this…is too much. I clench my fist at my side and punch the shower wall with the other hand as I allow the hurt to seep from my body once again.  
    ***  
    Darcie, Reggie and I spend the next two days cleaning up the house. It is a total wreck as we walk over broken and dismantled objects from our life. Picture frames in the living room are shattered. DVDs are scattered all over the place. Worse yet, Mia’s room is destroyed; her