Page 72 of Craving the Player

Chapter Thirty-Two

Sierra

My feet ache and my arms feel like warm string cheese. The box I’mholding wobbles as Iattempt to move it from my bedroom to the living room. To some, it might seem pointless to move asingular box from one room to another just afew feet away, but with the number of boxes cluttering up my bedroom, I'll take whatever free space Ican manage.

Waking up in the middle of the night to go to the washroom, only to end up stubbing your big toe on aheavy box and falling on your ass isn'thow Iwould like to spend my last two nights here.

My sigh of relief replaces the sound of my laboured breathing when Ifinally place the collection of picture frames on the floor. The glass clatters as the poorly packed frames bang around inside the box.

Too drained to care, Ijust stretch out my cramped arms and kick the mess of broken glass away.

That’saproblem for another day. And it’snot like Ihave many family pictures inside that box, anyway. Most of the frames are filled with lame quotes that at one point in my life, made me think that Icould take on the world. At this point, Idon’tthink that Icould take on the world even if Iwoke up gifted with every superpower known to man.

With an embarrassing slouch in my shoulders, Ihead for the fridge in desperate need of some water. Ipush away the three open boxes full of pots, pans, and baking sheets before finally pulling open the door.

The cold air makes me sigh with aweird mix of relief and pleasure. My eyes burn from exhaustion as Ifight to keep them open, knowing full well how nasty my under eye circles must be by now.

Ihaven’tslept more than three hours anight in the past three days. Since leaving Braden’shouse, I’ve been lost in asea of regret and confusion, unsure of where to go now. My future flashing in front of me in the shape of agiant question mark. Idon’tknow if I’ve made ahuge mistake, or taken arisk that will end up paying off in the end. I’msure if my mother knew what Idid she would praise me up and down, so proud of me for putting my career before anything else.

Is that what Iwant? To have made adecision that would have pleased my mother of all people?

The bottle of water meets my sweaty palm as Iunscrew the lid like amaniac and finish the contents in afew gulps. The plastic crunches when Itwist it and throw it towards the recycle bin, not bothering to look if it ended up on the floor or not.

Three light knocks on my front door have me smiling, knowing exactly who’son the other side.

“Coming!” Iall but run to the door, too excited to see my sister and niece to be able to keep myself under control. When Ipull open the door, my smile pulls into an even wider grin.

Clare stands with Liz on her back, legs wrapped around her waist in abear grip. Both girls radiate happiness and love. It’san addicting, nearly overwhelming aura that Istill haven’tbeen able to fully comprehend. How could I? The only time I’ve experienced abond even remotely the same is with my sister. And even then, it’snot the same as what she has with her daughter.

“Auntie!” Liz shouts and jumps down from Clare’sback. She rushes towards me and hugs my leg tightly before pushing her way inside and heading for the colouring book and crayons Ileft out for her on the couch.

“She’ll be busy all night now. Smart move.” Clares steps inside, shutting the door behind her. “It looks awful in here. Are you sure you’re leaving in two days?”

“Don’tremind me,” Isigh and walk to the kitchen. “Want something to drink? Ihave water or wine.”

“Go easy with all the options, sis.” She laughs. “Did you leave any glasses unpacked or are we drinking it from the bottle?”

Pulling open my cupboard door, my lip slips between my teeth when Irealize Ihaven’tbeen drinking from aglass for afew days now. “Bottle?”

“From the look of your overflowing recycle bin, it looks like tonight isn’tthe only time this week you’ve been drinking straight from the bottle,” she says, attempting to hide her curiosity with an otherwise harmless poke.

“You caught me.” Ishut the cupboard again before pulling amostly full bottle of red wine from the fridge and slamming back afew gulps.

“On second thought, you can enjoy that on your own.”

Itry to find the judgment in her voice but come up short. Not that I’msurprised. My sister is the least judgmental person Iknow. If anybody is going to understand my sudden obsession with booze, it’sher.

“Thanks.” Iwipe my mouth with the back of my hand and hold the bottle by my side.

“Wanna talk about it?” Clare pulls abarstool away from the small kitchen island and sits down, her brows pulled in tight, round eyes locked on mine.

“There isn’tanything more to talk about.” Ilift one shoulder and sit in the seat beside her. The bottle rests on the countertop as Ilean forward on my elbows and close my eyes.

“That’salie,” she scoffs. “Have you talked to him since? If you leave without at least trying to talk to him you know that you’ll regret it, S.”

Right. Iforgot that she was the one who brought me home Sunday morning. There was no way that Icould have avoided explaining the situation to her after Istarted sobbing in her SUV. "He doesn’twant to talk to me. He’sprobably banging someone else as we speak.”

The thought alone of another girl in his bed makes my skin burn and my top teeth scrape the bottom ones in an almost animalistic action. Iknow that Ilost the right to care about who he spends his nights with, but Ican’thelp that Istill care. Icare way too much, and Ihave no idea when or if I’ll be able to stop.

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