Disclaimer: Mention of domestic violence and drug abuse.

Chapter 8 – Choices…

The first thing I was aware of was the scent of cleanser. It was chemical

based, not the one that Bella used that smelt of lavender. The other thing that struck me, too, was this persistent beeping sound. Absentmindedly, I reached for the alarm to shut it off. Two things happened in my sluggish mind when I tried to do that. First, Bella was the one who shut off the alarm clock and usually let me sleep for a few extra minutes. Secondly, there was something uncomfortable in my right arm.

My eyes felt gritty, and I struggled to open them. The room was relatively dark when I finally opened it, and Bella sat to my left. The last few days were a dream after all; to my relief, I needed to cut back on the oxy if I was getting nightmares like the ones I just had. Hitting Bella and Alex, my confrontation with Charlie, being arrested, lying to my parents, I never needed to go through anything like that again.

My relief was short-lived as I realized in horror that this was not my bedroom; it was a hospital room. Bella was sitting in a plastic chair next to my bed, and my parents were huddled together in a coroner. That beeping I was listening to was a pump, and the uncomfortable feeling was coming from an IV in my arm. My wrist was also a little sore.

"B-b-ella," I moaned, my throat sore, wondering how I got here.

"Jasper," she whispered, leaning over to touch something. At first, I thought she was going for her hand, but she was going for a button next to the bed. I got a whiff of her scented shampoo and reached to touch it, but she pulled away too fast. Another beep started to fill the room.

My mother and father got up to come see me. They looked like they wanted to say something to me but were interrupted when a doctor and a couple of nurses came in.

"Wha, what happened?" I slurred.

"Mr. Whitlock, I'm Dr. Cain. Do you know where you are?" the doctor, a

woman with auburn hair asked.

"Hospital," I replied.

"Good, can you tell me your birthday?"

"March 17th, 1976"

"And year is it?"

"2006."

"Whose the president?"

"George Bush," I answered automatically.

"Very good. Okay, what do you remember?" she asked kindly.

Flashes of the last few days went through my mind. I lost my temper, hit Bella, was arrested, the guard ignored me, the kid with the face tattoo—all of it went through my mind.

"I was in lock-up," I answered. "The guards wouldn't give me my medication."

"Correct, you were in lock-up, and you had an episode where you vomited and fainted," Dr. Cain explained as she pulled out a penlight to look at my eyes. "The guards sent you here. Mr. Whitlock, when we ran your blood levels, you had a high level of opioids in your bloodstream. Much higher than what is on the prescription in your record."

"There must be a mix-up in your lab," I replied, moving my head from her grasp. The light hurt my eyes.

"No, Mr. Whitlock, the labs you gave here are consistent with the urine analysis they did at the jail," she replied, "And it matches what your wife told me."

I fumed, wondering if anything was private anymore, giving Bella an angry glare. Surprisingly, she didn't look away; she glared back. "Look, it was an accident. I forgot that I already took a dose, and Bella, well, she's prone to hysterics." I hissed, my mother, nodding sagely while my father stood there with that blank stare of his.

"And positive alcohol test both here and the jail? Mr. Whitlock, you're lucky that you just had a fall," this increasingly bitchy doctor retorted.

"I had a little too much to drink last night; that's not a crime," I said defensively, my ears turning red.

"You've been on opioids for a few years, Mr. Whitlock, you should know the danger of mixing alcohol with them."

I look at the tacky wallpaper in the room. "It was a one-time thing."

"You've been to rehab one before, correct?" she asked.

"Doctor Cain," Mom started to say.

"You have my record in front of you, and my wife is clearly giving you all my deepest darkness secrets," I snapped, "What the fuck are you trying to say!"

Bella blanched a little and looked away, more resigned than sad. Mom gasped and went for my hand, but Dad took a different approach.

"Jasper," he commanded in his authoritarian voice. "Be respectful and listen to Dr. Cain."

"As I was saying," the doctor continued, nonplussed by my response or the other drama in the room, "You've been to rehab before; if you don't have issues with your medication, why?"

"Look, it was a pain management seminar, and the idea was to try and transition to other pain medications like Tynelol or Ibuprofen. It was only for a few weeks," I answered, wishing I could leave. In fact, why couldn't I go? I realized I wasn't handcuffed to the bed. I could get out here. What a damn fine idea.

"So why did you go back to oxycodone?"

"Because it fucking works! Listen, Dr. Cain, do you have any fucking clue how painful a knee injury is?" I shouted, frustrated that no one could hear me, "In my case, it felt like my bones were grinding together. It felt like goddamn torture! Even with the surgery your buddy from ortho promised would work!"

"Mr. Whitlock, I understand that you're experiencing pain, but what you are taking to satisfy your need is more than enough. You using alcohol to migrate your pain; I'm recommending that you enter an inpatient rehab

center," she finished with her pontificating.

"Are you fucking kidding me? I want to leave now!" I shouted, slamming my fist on the table.

"Jasper!" Bella said, coming back over, "Stop it!" I work here!"

"Bella, are you fucking kidding me! You've got a lot of fucking nerve! You tell all these people our secrets!"

"You're goddamn right I did – someone needs to!" she snarled at me. My jaw dropped – I had never seen her that angry before. "You can lie to yourself about your problem, hell, you've lied to everyone in this room! But you got yourself here! I didn't do that! You did a lot to Alex and me, and are you blaming me for it? Go ahead but don't you dare behave like an asshole at my place of business! In fact, I don't know why I'm here! Unless you agree to go to rehab, I'm out of here!"

Bella grabbed her jacket and purse; she was dead serious; she really was leaving.

"No, Bella, please—"I started pleading, not caring how I sounded. My mother started to stroke my hair to calm me down like she did when I was little.

"Bella, Dr. Cain, Maggie, let me have a couple of minutes with Jasper," Dad said, putting his fucking arm on my wife. The girl he tried to talk me out of marrying, fucking hypocrite.

Bella took one last fury-filled look at me, nodded, and stalked out of the room. My mom gently kissed me on my forehead and left with Dr. Cain.

My dad stared at me, I could see his legal mind twisting and turning, trying to find a way to bend me to his will.

"I don't have a goddamn problem," I shouted him, "I don't need rehab!"

Dad pulled the chair that Bella vacated and sat, still fucking quiet. It made me wish Charlie was here; at least that fucker spoke.

"Whether you need rehab or not, do you realize how much trouble you're in?" he said very calmly, tapping his thumb on the bed rail. It was his only clue; other than that, the man had an amazing poker face.

"Enlighten me, Dad, how much real trouble do you think I'm in?" I replied snarled, slamming my hand on the bedrail.

Dad grabbed my hand and held it down. It fucking hurt. "You're having a really shitty day Jasper," he said slowly, meticulously. "Your wife let the cops and the hospital here know about your habit. A habit you let get out of control. She's not my favorite person, but she is the mother of my grandchildren. And I saw what you did to Alex, I know Bella didn't do that. The cops may buy your bullshit about Bella, but they won't about Alex. Now, are you wondering why you're not handcuffed to this bed?"

I shook my head because that hadn't been computed. After they wouldn't have handcuffed me to a bed, would they?

"You're not handcuffed because I called in a favor for you," he replied, releasing some of my hand's pressure. "A favor I can make go away if you decide you're too big for your britches."

"What do you mean?" I asked my mouth going dry.

"Right now, you're looking at assault and battery. Now, the cops can't get you on the drugs, thank God, but they can get you for beating your wife and child. Bella went to the hospital and took Alex with her. I saw the pictures; there is no way she did that to herself; you did it that, Jasper," he continued, "Even if you plead it down, it's going to stick. So here's the deal, you listen to what Bella says and go into rehab. You do not argue with her. You do what you need to do to get into her good graces. If you do that, than you have a shot of getting your life back, and the charges drop because Bella is no fool. She will divorce you, take your kids away from you, and make sure you're in jail for as long as she can. You do want, she says, I'll make sure that you have the legal representation money can buy."

"And if I say no," I asked, dreading the answer.

"If you say no, the cuffs go back on, you go back to jail. You don't make bail. I won't get you a lawyer and you'll be on your own, simple as that."

Returning to that cell made me break into a cold sweat. I didn't want to go back, I couldn't go back. But I couldn't go back to the pain. I needed the pills. I was well and truly fucked.

AN: So, there you have it, is Jasper going to rehab? And more importantly is Bella going to take him back? For a lot of addicts fear of pain is what keeps them from getting help. A lot of people developed opioid addictions from using them as prescribed. As I mentioned earlier, Jasper had surgery for a knee injury and was given opioids for pain management. He didn't start with the intention of abusing drugs; he started because he was treating an injury. The National Institute of Drug Abuse reported in 2018 that 75% of opioid abusers started with a prescription given to them from their doctor. If you read Empire of Pain, it talks about Oxy was originally marketed as safe drug that would eliminate the need for other more addictive pain killers, if used as directed. Which is what Jasper did.

And if you think I'm being too lenient on Jasper, remember this, this takes place almost twenty years ago. He's a first-time offender with a lot of money at his disposal. I don't know too many people who would let their kid go jail without trying to get them out of trouble. Remember there is a reason why the phrase "love you to death" exists. Peter is seeing problem that can be resolved not the underlying issues that are causing Jasper's addiction.

Thank you for the wonderful reviews and support! Bella's decision is in the next chapter. What do you think she's going to do?