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I walk up to him and kick his left foot. “Asshole! What the fuck is wrong with you!”
Ward’s head bobs and he looks at me. “I… I just wanted to say goodbye… I mean, you showed up in person, Mila. That’s wild. Hey, maybe we still have a shot at this…”
Yeah, Ward. Sure. As I have another man’s cum gently easing itself out of me.
That makes me feel guilty, as though I’ve done something wrong. When I haven’t. I have done nothing wrong here.
“Who else were you with tonight? Which assholes gave you the booze?” I ask.
“Running solo tonight, Mila. Can’t get you out of my head. This whole thing… my life…”
“You can’t talk crazy, Ward,” I say. “You’re scaring me.”
“I’ll be gone soon,” he says.
He twists the cap off the bottle and starts to drink.
I fall to the floor and grab the bottle from him.
I throw it across the room, making sure when it hits the wall, it shatters.
Ward coughs and spits whiskey at me.
“What the fuck, Mila?”
He falls forward and flops to the floor, then reaches for the shards of glass.
All I picture now is him accidentally ingesting glass and hurting himself.
I grab for his arm and pull.
His stomach makes a terrible sound and he starts to cough.
He’s going to die… right in front of me…
“You need to get to the bathroom and puke,” I say.
“Fuck you,” he mumbles. “Traitor.”
“Yeah, well, this traitor is going to make sure you see tomorrow.”
I reach for Ward’s mouth.
I cringe at the thought of shoving my fingers down his throat. But I really have no choice in the matter here.
Unless I just call for help…
Not sure if I want that scene though.
It doesn’t matter, Mila! He needs…
I grab his mouth and Ward tries to bite me.
I pull my hand away.
He pushes himself up on his hands and knees and turns toward me.
He’s beyond drunk, obviously.
