Page 71 of A Love That Broke Us
It took a few weeks after the ski trip, but it eased up. This’ll pass too. It has to.
I turn to put the tequila back, but the twist in my knee sends white-hot pain shooting straight to my brain.
“Agh, God!” I shout, wincing, eyes squeezing shut as my hands fly to my knee.
The bottle slips from my grip, hitting the floor with a heavy thud.
“Dammit!”
The bottle rolls across the floor—unbroken, thank God. I grip my knee hard, like pressure alone might fix it. Slowly, I push myself up, breathing deep as white and black stars flicker across my vision. I blink them away, leaning on the counter until the haze clears.
“Fuck,” I mutter. I didn’t even do anything, just stepped wrong.
I limp back to the medicine cabinet. There has to be more Tylenol—anything. I can’t wait three more hours for Alley to get home. I start tearing through bottles: supplements, activated charcoal, Zyrtec, Senna Plus—yeah, definitely don’t need help shitting. None of it’s useful.
Two prescription bottles are shoved way in the back.Jesus, how old are these?I don’t even remember the last time one of us had a prescription. I grab them both to throw away. I hold the first one up—Azithromycin,whatever the hell that was for.I toss it in the trash.
I pause, holding the second one over the bin.
Oxycodone.
Oh, shit.This is from my surgery. I didn’t even use half of them. I rotated Tylenol and ibuprofen after the first few days. I remember taking one or two the following week when the pain spiked. They worked—really well.
I shake the bottle, eyes scanning the label. They expired six months ago. But painkillers don’t actually expire, do they? They just put that shit on the label to cover their asses. It’s not like they go bad.
Twisting the cap, I tip the bottle until a single pill drops into my palm.
I stare at it.
I know how this shit works. I know it can be addicting. But I’ve taken it before, and I was fine. Right now I’m in pain. It’s not like I’m chasing a high. I just want to not feel like I’m being stabbed every time I move.
My knee pulses hard, like it’s reminding me that this isn’t optional. I sigh, open the silverware drawer, and grab a knife. I’ll cut it in half. It’s safer that way. Not a big deal.
I line the blade up to the score and rock it back and forth. Powder crumbles, but it cuts clean enough. I pick up one half between my thumb and finger, hesitant, staring again. It’s just a little white pill—small,harmless.
Just half. Just for the pain.
Placing it on my tongue, I take a sip of water and swallow.Please work,I pray.I’d kill for a good nights sleep tonight.
I limp back to the couch and sink into it, resuming my position—legs kicked up. I grab a few throw pillows, and tuck them behind me, settling in for the next few hours until my gorgeous wife comes home.
Twenty minutes pass, and I’m thoroughly enjoying the game when my phone dings.
I glance down. It’s Matt.
Matt
Hey bro, you and Al still planning on tomorrow?
Ah, shit.I totally forgot. One of Matt’s clients is throwing some gala for a charity. He told me the name of it, but I couldn’t tell you what the hell it’s for.
Yeah. You wanna drive together?
Matt
Yeah. I’m bringing a date. We can pick her up on the way?
Works for me.
