Chapter 37: THIRTY-SEVEN

EDEN

"I'm proud of you," I say as we step out of the car and head toward the rehab center’s front doors. "Really. This is a big move, and I think it's the right one."

Dad doesn’t say anything—just nods, looking like he hasn’t slept in days. He’s been crashing on my couch since they discharged him from the ER.

For the past two nights, he’s just sat there, silent, occasionally flipping through the brochures they gave us at the hospital like they personally offended him.

I kept waiting for the excuses to start.

It’s under control.

It’s not a big deal.

Just a bad night.

But he surprised me. When he finally agreed to go to Malibu Paradise Clinic, I half expected him to backpedal. Another part of me was irritated it took him this long to even consider it.

Didn’t he see how badly he needed help?

Still, underneath that frustration, there was a sharp wave of relief. I can’t fix him. I’ve known that for a long time. So the fact that he’s walking into this place at all? It’s something. It lifts this invisible weight I didn’t realize I’d been carrying.

A nurse—Clare, I think?—greets us at the front desk. She’s sweet, kind voice, warm smile. She walks us through the first-day logistics, but I’m not sure Dad hears a word. His mind’s clearly elsewhere.

"As part of our approach," Clare says as we walk down a ridiculously spotless hallway, "we really encourage open communication with trusted family and friends. We’ve found that connection plays a huge role in long-term healing. That said, all calls will be supervised, just as a precaution. We’ve had... incidents in the past with contraband slipping through.”

“It’s not about invading privacy,” she adds with a small smile, “but protecting everyone’s recovery.”

Dad’s shoulders tense. “And how exactly are we paying for this?” he mutters, eyes darting around. His fingers are trembling slightly as he picks at a frayed nail. “I already owe JWC a fortune. Credit cards are maxed.”

I wave him off. “It’s handled. Don’t stress.”

He frowns. “What does that mean? How?”

I consider telling him about Ryder again. But last time I brought that up, he completely lost it. No thanks.

“I’ve got a job now,” I say instead.

His expression darkens instantly. “With him.”

I exhale sharply. “Don’t start.”

“That manipulative piece of—Eve, quit. You shouldn’t be working for that man.”

I plant my hands on my hips, biting back my irritation. “You really want to lecture me right now? After everything?”

His mouth tightens.

“I’m the only one pulling it together right now. I’m paying for this. I’m making adult choices. And if I want to work for someone you hate, tough. You lost the right to tell me what to do when you checked out of your own life.”

I regret the words the second they’re out, but I don’t take them back. Sometimes love looks like brutal honesty. And Dad needs a solid dose of it right now.

“You can save the parenting act until you’ve actually earned the title again,” I add. “And even then, I don’t owe you obedience. I’m not your little girl anymore.”

Clare clears her throat awkwardly. “Um... if I could just suggest—we try to focus on uplifting language and supportive tones here. It really helps set the stage for a positive transformation.”

Dad and I glance at each other. Both of us look like we’re suppressing the same sarcastic snort.

Dad mutters, “Are you sure this place is legit?”

I let out a breath. “Yeah, Dad. It’s a good place. One of the best, actually.” That’s what Ryder told me, at least. “And listen, I’m just a call away. I want you to get better. Not because I’m asking—but because you deserve that.”

He nods, barely meeting my eyes, staring at his shoes like a kid getting told off. “You’re right,” he says quietly. “You’re completely right.”

“I know.”

“I’ll do better. I mean it.”

My stomach turns, and for a second, I feel a little dizzy. It’s like everything inside me is spinning. Clare’s perfume—too sweet, too strong—makes it worse. The cherry and strawberry smell is like a punch to the head.

“I love you, Dad,” I say. My voice cracks a little. “I’m only being tough because I have to. Not because I want to be. I believe in you. I really do.”

He steps forward and gives me a hug, patting my back in that stiff way he does. “Thanks, Eve. I’m going to try. I want to do better.”

I nod and pull back, just enough to look him in the eye. “Then show me.”