Page 94 of I Promise You
I blow out the smoke and watch the bright reddish-orange fire crackle at the end of my cigarette.
She wanted me gone? I’m poison to her?
It pains her to love me?
I’ve been stabbed, sliced, beaten,blown up, but her words were worse than all of that combined when she said it.
Fuck.
It was cruel, but a part of me understands her.
It isn’t fair to her after everything she’s been through.
It feels like it’s over.
She said it was over.
But even if she doesn’t want me, she has me.
She has me wrapped around her pretty little soul, even if that means I don’t get to kiss or hold her again.
I won’t ever love another woman because she has me…she fucking has me.
A familiar darkness I’ve learned to push away twists violently in my chest, scratching at my sanity once again, and I crack.
I throw the cigarette to the floor, putting it out underneath my boot, and swing the door to my house open after unlocking it.
Swinging the door open frantically, pissed off even, and I’m met with silence.
It’s dark, quiet and eerie.
I was born and molded by silence and cold-hearted parents from birth to adulthood. I thrive in quiet loneliness because of them…until Paul’s death.
Until Ari.
After that, it’s just been noise that I like to drown out with whiskey.
I haven’t slept alone at home in a while. I’ve been with her every night, holding her, consumed by her scent, in her bed.
But now, I’m alone in my house like I used to be. Like the old me. Before I crossed paths with Ari, and I don’t like it.
I walk toward my kitchen, not bothering to turn on any light.
I don’t need to be guided towards a place I know too well. A place that used to be my favorite escape.
Throwing my keys on the counter without a care in the world, I grab a bottle of Jack Daniels off the bar. It’s in my hand, and I turn it until I read “Tennessee Whiskey”. I stare at it long, getting lost in my thoughts. It feels like forever that I stand in my bar area.
I debate with myself.
Just one drink. One drink to take the edge off, the anger, the pain.
I twist the cap open, but this time, I take a couple of gulps from the top, not bothering with a whiskey glass. The familiar smooth, burning amber alcohol welcomes me back with open arms, and I sigh deeply, licking my lips after swallowing a reasonable amount.
I tighten my jaw over and over again, looking at it.
I have a few days back home, and now I’m going to spend them like this?
Fuck.
