Samantha smiled sheepishly as she walked out the main door of the large, brick rehab facility. She looked slightly heavier but healthy and her face had regained its natural glow. She walked quickly to the car as I stood by the drivers door and we embraced.
"Hi my love," I said as I held her tight. I hadn't seen her in a week and I'd only been allowed to visit twice while she kicked her addiction to heroin at the local in-patient detox facility.
I had talked to her the day after I saw Charles shoot her up and she had confessed everything. She was scared and knew she needed help. He had shot her up the night they had met and he'd been supplying her every time they were together. What I had thought was recovery from her breakup had actually been the drugs and when I confronted her she broke down crying. Two days later she entered rehab and an anonymous tip to the local police from a Walmart burner phone got Charles arrested for dealing. He was a scumbag and I needed to do whatever I could to get him out of our lives. Unfortunately he ratted on his supplier for less time but he was caught with drugs a week after posting bail during a routine traffic stop and his plea was rescinded. I was hopeful that he was out of our lives for good but I kept close tabs on him through an acquaintance who worked as a guard where he was being held.
"I missed you so much Baby," my wife sighed as tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. "I'm so, so sorry. I feel like such a shitty person. I hurt you and I will do anything to make it up to you."
"You owe me nothing Baby. We're even now," I kissed her tenderly and smiled. "Where do you want to eat?"
"How can we be even?" Samantha asked with her brow furrowed.
"We both had our fuck up and we both came back. That which does not kill you makes you stronger. We are good as long as we are open, honest and in love."
"Promise?"
"I do. I love you Sam."
"I love you too Jeremy, more than ever." We kissed again and I opened her door. We headed to the restaurant district in the city for lunch at her favorite DC restaurant.
At lunch Samantha regaled me with stories of the cast of characters that were in rehab with her. It seemed like an eclectic group and she was one of three married housewives with a heroin addiction.
"What about a BBC addiction?" I teased with a playful smile and her face lit up.
"Actually my roommate Becky was into black guys. A fat blonde, go figure. She was a total whore," my wife laughed. "Worse than me, but she had a great tongue, especially for a straight girl."
"You fucked your roommate?"
"I didn't fuck her. I didn't have my strapon," she laughed. "But we fooled around a lot. There wasn't much to do at night."
The first week of rehab Samantha had been in detox after which she moved into the room with Becky, who was three weeks into a two month court ordered stay.
Becky had a meth and a heroin problem and had been arrested for possession with intent. She was, according to Samantha, a wild child but with a good heart and they became fast friends as they shared stories of their addictions. Becky had never been married and had only fucked black men since high school. She called herself a gold star snowbunny because she'd never taken white dick. My wife told her about tumultuous relationship with Charles and then about her long term relationship with Marcus and Svetlana. Becky agreed that Samantha was much better off with Marcus but she understood the draw of the thug life.
"A week after we met we were both feeling horny. The center has a strict no sex policy but they don't do bed checks late at night so Becky climbed into my bed and told me if I did her she'd do me. She'd never gone down on a woman before. The idea had always disgusted her but we were locked up and she needed to cum," Samantha laughed.
