Page 59 of Capacity
“Trust me, you don’t have to explain. I already know. You have a wonderful wife, Mr. Wells. Cherish every second. Even the ones where she’s sleeping.”
“Oh, I do. I just can’t imagine how things are going to be once that bed is empty.” He heaved a sigh and I felt my stomach turn to lead. Memories insisted on ramming into me repeatedly.
“It’s going to be the hardest thing in the world coming back to an empty home, Mr. Wells. I can’t lie to you. Might even break you. Don’t stay broken though. Find the capacity to put one foot in front of the other every day.” I patted him on the back and told him I’d get the proofs to him as soon as I could.
“You’re doing the Lord’s work, son. I want you to know that. People like you who get it are rare.”
“I appreciate that, sir.” I thanked him and carried my things to the car.
I drove home in silence. The only sound was the tires on the pavement. It lulled me into a hypnotic state that blunted some of the sadness swelling in my heart. Dammit, I missed Hazel. I missed her laugh and her smile. I missed the angry look in her eyes when I left my socks right in front of the hamper.
The thought forced a harsh, brittle laugh from my mouth.
I pulled into my driveway and killed the engine, taking twenty minutes or more to simply sit in a daze. Seeing Mr. and Mrs. Wells drove home the inevitability that nobody sticks around forever. Not Hazel. Not Lumi.
Oh god, Lumi…
I fucked things up with her too and I hated myself for it. Self-loathing and grief swirled inside of me creating a poisonous cocktail that was sure to get me drunk on depression. Even if I hadn’t messed up with Lumi, eventually she’d leave me either through a breakup or something tragic. I couldn’t face that. She was special.
She’d infiltrated my heart, my mind, and my spirit. I cared so deeply for her that it almost felt like a betrayal to Hazel. I promised myself I’d never love another woman but I couldn’t imagine life without Lumi anymore.
Was that love?
I already knew the answer in my head.
I climbed out of the car and dragged myself into the house. Each step was heavy and slow like wading through quicksand. I went into the kitchen and stared up at the cabinet that held my whiskey. It stared back, blank, uncaring, and cold.
My throat tightened and my heart pounded at the thought of letting myself fall into the chasm of darkness gaping in my chest. Succumbing to omnipotent blackness didn’t seem as bad as reliving Hazel’s death over and over.
I reached up and plucked the glass bottle from the cabinet then grabbed a crystal glass and set both on the counter. A sledgehammer crashed into my chest at the thought of tossing away months of sobriety.
I still cracked open the bottle. The tip of my nose hovered over the neck as my stomach crawled with anxiety. Even the scent of it made me salivate. Rich and bold with tarts notes. I was so hungry for it. So damn needy and weak.
Lumi was right. I let the sobering thought settle in my mind.
What’s the point in changing if I’m still an alcoholic at heart? Why not give in to the pull and drink? Nothing is forever anyway so eventually, I won’t even matter.
I poured the whiskey into my glass and brought it to my lips, my hand trembling.
Time slowed to an infinite series of slow ticks and tocks.
I stared down at the deep amber liquid in the glass and wondered what would happen once I took a drink. Would the shame be instantaneous or would it be a slow-burning hellfire that consumed me over time?
I’d bet my life on the latter.
I’d be a fucking disappointment to myself. I’d revert to the man who fucked an eighteen-year-old and gave her liquor. To the man who went to work drunk. To the man Lumi didn’t know.
Lumi.
She knew me as sober Knight. She knew the real me, not the drunken mask I showed the world before I decided to save myself. She would mourn the loss of the man she knew. So would I.
I gripped the glass so hard I thought it would shatter in my hand. A growl snaked through my chest and bolted out of my mouth. With an angry swing of my hand, I tossed the glass into the empty sink and watched whiskey splash against the stainless steel and onto the counter by sheer force. The glass bounced into the air then crashed back down, chipping and cracking.
With a stiff back, I took Johnnie Walker to the sink and emptied him down the fucking drain. Lumi was right. Terrance was right too. I was still an alcoholic. Liquor still had control over me. It should haveneverbeen in my house. Even standing at the sink watching it swirl down the drain, my tongue ached with the need to lap up the last drops.
I was fucking pathetic.
Hastily, I turned on the faucet and washed the rest of it down the drain. Hopefully, my desperation went with it. While I watched everything swim in the sink, I called Terrance in an unblinking daze.
