Authors Note: Hello, my dearies! I've been away for a while, I know. I know and I am SO SORRY! I'll be upfront: I had some major doubts about myself and this story. Got in my own head and started overanalyzing every single thing about the direction I'm taking this story, about myself as a writer. Is it too dark? Did I not build Jaycee's pregnancy up enough? Things like that and I completely lost motivation for SSM, but I'm back. I wrote what you could consider the (very) rough draft back in 2011, told myself I was going to rewrite and complete it this year, and damn it I'm sticking to that promise. I'll try to be better, guys, I swear. So, to ease myself back into the writing gig, I'm going to switch it up. This chapter will be written through Spinner's point of view. I'm willing to bet it's not something I'm going to stick with, but here we go! Please enjoy this chapter, simply titled 'Spinner', in which we see how Spin and Jaycee are piecing their lives back together.

It's been four weeks since I lost my unborn child. Four weeks that I've been too afraid to eat, sleep, or shower alone. Four weeks that I've wished my life was a nightmare I could wake up from. I've been staying with Jaycee since she was released from the hospital.

I should have stayed before.

She's regained most of her movement and I've watched her try to resume life as normal. Even now, I watch her hips twitch around the kitchen, pulling out plates for our breakfast. My breakfast was beer. I haven't eaten much, any of my nutrients coming from protein shakes. I tell Jaycee it's because I want to bulk up again, that devoting time to the gym will snap me out of this haze. 'It's different for men, Jace,' I tell her. I hear the slop of gravy covering biscuits as she sets the plate in front of me. She gives me a weak smile, I look away. A heavy sigh leaves her lips, she's trying. She takes a seat on my knee, wrapping her arms around my neck, and presses a kiss into my forehead.

"You okay?" She asks.

I nod, "Getting there, babe." I answer reluctantly, rubbing my hand on her thigh. This is the most affection we've been able to show each other in a long time.

She's a tough one, my Jaycee. I see her grieve, in moments she believes she's alone, in the simple things, in the silence. I caught her napping the other day, our unnamed elephant wrapped in her arms, her breath shaky from crying herself to sleep. My thick skinned, warrior of a woman.

She leans in with one more kiss and excuses herself silently to wake Bentley up. I take the moment and bolt to the living room, getting on my knees to reach the collection of beer bottles I'd been hiding. I wrap them in individual plastic bags before shoving them into one and tie the top shut, "Taking out garbage, be right back!" I yell to no one in particular.

I must take the garbage out ten times a day. I wonder if she notices. I'm supposed to be the strong one. I close the front door behind me and jog out to the dumpsters on the side of our apartment. It was my idea to send Liberty away. She'd also been staying with us, most nights taking my side of the bed while I slept on the couch.

Liberty Van Zandt is by far a better boyfriend than I'll ever amount to.

It's nothing personal against her. I thought being alone with my family was what Jace and I needed to heal but our conversation falls flat without Liberty. We're both leaning on her, in a way. She promised to drop her visit's down to once a week, and she's been good at holding her word. When she does come by, we put on a hell of a show. We laugh, kiss, and touch each other like we used to but once she leaves, it's silence. We're both too prideful to admit that we haven't adjusted to being alone.

I've picked up Jaycee's habit of smoking. It takes the edge off, especially on nights where I find it hard to sleep; Jaycee and I have a system. We split a pack and leave it on the curb. She was supposed to be quitting but we all have our vices, I guess. I light the one I left unfinished in the early hours of this morning and take a few puffs.

I can feel myself getting bad again, like the 'I got Jimmy shot' bad. But this time I can't flaunt it. I have a family to take care of. I'm grateful for Bentley, I really am. Meeting him changed my life, it makes me want to be better. I am better, in certain ways. I'm serious about finishing my high school career, I was when I begged Hatzilakos to let me back in but now I want more than a lackluster life for my step son. I haven't called him that, at least not out loud. Jaycee certainly hasn't brought it up and given our current situation, I'm not going to push it.

I snub out the cherry on my cigarette and return back inside.

Bentley is waiting at the table for me and when I sit down, he puts his head on my knee and hugs my calf. Sweet boy. I wonder if my child would have been as caring. I heard the second child is always the wild child, the one that evades sleep and has a bit of an evil streak to them. It was the opposite for Kendra and I, but she was adopted.

Damn. No actual sister, no actual child. Am I ever meant to have a real family? I'm not the religious type, at least I haven't been since Hurricane Darcy blew through my life, but every day I find myself praying for a miracle. Or at least a sign that my baby is okay, safe with his or her grandfather. My father. What would he have done in this situation?

Certainly not be hiding his drinking habits from my mother.

"I'm picking up Jessie's shift at The Dot today, she needed it off for a doctor's appointment." I told Jaycee. She's increasingly been working again, mostly in the cash office where she can sit until she's back to 100%. It's been rough on her, she's a go getter.

"Closing?"

"Yep." I take a look at the time on my phone and see that it's almost time to get Bentley to daycare so we can get to school. He's all gooped up from his breakfast, more of it ending up on his clothes than in his belly. I motion across the table for him to take my hand so I can get him a change of clothes, "You are the messiest child. Wanna match with Spinner today?"

We have matching pull overs. It's completely unintentional. But he's excited to match nonetheless and claps his hands above his head as he jets off into his bedroom.

Jaycee is waiting for us at the door by the time we leave the bedroom, holding a paper bag with Bentley's lunch. Her expression shifts when she sees us, and she walks up to me, snaking her arms around my waist. I hug her back, pressing her so close she could melt into me.

"Look at my boys," she says proudly, pulling Bentley in to make this a family hug. "Your bullshit is my bullshit, Spin. Remember that."

It's the closest she's come to saying 'I love you'.