Page 71 of Heartless Boss
“Yeah,” he says, and she gives him a kiss on the cheek then she skips up the stairs.
He walks up to me and kisses my lips, and I smell the whiskey on his breath. That’s all it takes for the gray walls to cave in on me. I pull away from his embrace. Anger pumps through my blood.
“You better have a good explanation about not returning any of my phone calls,” I snap, clenching my fists. He grabs my arms gently, sitting on the couch, pulling me into his lap.
“I lied to you. I went to go see Ryan. I beat his ass, and now he’s in jail for beating another woman.” He stares at me like he won some kind of award.
“Congratulations, you want a cookie now?” Me being around him makes me into a butthole like he is. Like Petra used to say in her Southern voice,You hang around the barber shop long enough, you’ll get your hair cut there too.“What about you missing my calls?” I ask while he grabs my hand and kisses the knuckles.
“I blacked out because I had a flashback.” He says it so casually.
“From alcohol,” I state, and his silence is everything I need to know.
My eyes sting with tears and before I know it, they fall like a river. My heart beat harder than a drummer at a concert and knots clog my stomach causing my gut to hit the floor.
God, I’m a fool to believe I can compete with the liquor. That we will have a shot at something real. I’m an idiot to think Gunner is capable of love. He can’t love me, let alone himself.
I get up from his lap and head up the staircase with Gunner on my heels.
Once I reach the stairs, he grabs my hand. I stop and lean on the oak railing.
“I’m not done talking to you,” he says.
“I’m done talking to you. As of right now, I’m calling off this stupid experiment,” I snap, wiping the tears from my face with my palm. I want him to feel my pain. I want to hurt him the way he hurt me.
“You know damn well our relationship was more than an experiment.” His face scrunches up in pain.
“Whatever.” I should have never fallen in love with him.
You’re stupid, heart. You see what you did? I hate you.
“Whoa. Back the fuck up. You’re leaving me? Because I didn’t return your calls?”
I stomp up the stairs, rush to his bedroom, and gather all my junk I brought here and toss it in my backpack. He doesn’t get it, and I doubt he ever will.
“No, but I should add it to the long list of shit you did!” I don’t believe in cursing, but Gunner has gotten under my skin with his drinking.
“I went to get justice for you because you didn’t get it for yourself.”
“I never asked you to do that! And you didn’t do it for me, you did it for yourself, to ease your own guilt because you couldn’t save me. I forgave Ryan for what he did to me. I didn’t want to wake up with hate in my heart. Even though I’m still healing from those wounds. I left him in the past. You decided to take matters into your own hands. I never asked you to try to be a hero and get back at him. Don’t use me as a way to justify your actions.” I tuck my hair behind my ears.
We’re quiet. He rubs the back of his neck like he does when he’s stressed out.
“You’re an alcoholic. I love you, Gunner. But I can’t keep turning a blind eye to your drinking or keep making excuses for it. I understand you have PTSD, and I don’t love you any less. In fact, I love you even more because it takes a strong person to wake up every morning to face their demons, to go out into the world and try to function when your mind is fighting its own battle. But you’re using liquor as a crutch, and at the end of the day you’ll choose your poison over me every time.” I grab my backpack from the floor and sling it over my shoulder. “I’m not sticking around to watch you destroy yourself.”
I avoid looking at him because if I do I’ll change my mind. Liquor is his addiction, and he’s mine. We both need to check into rehab.
“Don’t leave me, Gia. We can work this out!” His words sucker punch me in the gut.
“I’ll need a few days to move my stuff out of the condo.”
“No, I gave it to you.”
“I don’t want it. Take it out of my name.” I close my eyes as I rest my hand on the silver doorknob, and I can’t keep these stupid tears from falling down my face.
“If you leave, you’ll be taking a piece of my heart with you.”
I look back at him as tears sit at the corners of his eyes. Sorrow slices through his face. He looks like a broken God. A broken God who lost his soul. My throat clogs with lumps the size of the Titanic. Instead of responding, I leave the room.
