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Within minutes, my clean home is a disheveled, jacked up mess. I’m too drunk to grasp the destruction I’ve caused, both here tonight, or in the situation over all. I crawl into bed, and drown my sorrows into Jack, and the last hazel eyes that I see, when I close mine.
Chapter 7
It’s been three days since I told Colton about Luke. He hasn’t bothered with coming into work, and has been avoiding me at all cost. Every call has been sent to voice mail and he ignores my text. I’m worried about him, but I’m trying to give him his space to work this all out. My last text to him was this morning at 9:12.
Me: Colton, I’m worried about you. You can’t ignore me forever. I know I made a monumental mistake, but I’m praying this is our baby, so we can have our happily ever after. I love you. Call me soon.
A short while later, Shelly calls to tell me that Emily Weston is on line one. I take a deep breath before picking up the line.
“Hello, Emily. How are you?
“Carly Jo, I’m okay, but Colton is anything but.”
“Emily, he hasn’t been to work since Tuesday. What’s going on with him?”
“Little lady, you know more about it than I do, so don’t play dumb with me. He ain’t well. I haven’t seen him like this in years. I’ve remained silent over this last month, but things are gettin’ worse by the day. When it starts to affect Heidi Jo, it’s time I intervene.”
“I’m sorry, Emily. We are going through a rough patch. I’m just trying to give him some space.”
“Space.” She laughs. “Only thing between you and Colton is air and opportunity. I’m not gettin’ in the middle of it, but I have a little girl here who hasn’t seen her daddy since Tuesday and she’s worried ‘bout him. She talks about you all the time. She looks up to you, Carly Jo. You and Colton need to get it figured out.”
“I know, Emily. I’ll stop by after work today to see if he’ll talk to me. But I can’t promise that he will.”
“Thank you, Carly Jo. He loves you so much. I hope you two can work it out. This baby’s heart will be broke otherwise.” She says, before ending the call.
I procrastinate for the remainder of the day, finding any reason to stay at the office longer than necessary. Around six-thirty I finally power down the computer and make my way out into the cold to head to Colton’s. I drive five mile under the speed limit, just another attempt of avoiding this visit.
Pulling up the driveway to his house, I see his battered Silverado parked in the yard beside the house and deep cut tracks through the grass. I climb the steps of the porch, taking a deep breath as I raise my hand to knock. When my knuckles tap the door, it eases open with a slow creak. I peek my head through the door and call out to him. When he doesn’t reply I walk inside, closing the door behind me.
The stench of alcohol invades my senses immediately, and my stomach rolls with nausea. I look about the living room in shock at the sight before me. Lamps shattered on the floor, end tables turned on their sides. Broken shards of wood and glass are everywhere. His house looks like a wrecking ball came crashing through it. A bottle of Jack Daniels is turned over on the edge of the coffee table leaving a dark stain in the carpet. The stench of alcohol is overpowering, and my heart cracks knowing that I’ve drove him to breaking his sobriety.
I walk into Colton’s bedroom to find him splayed across the bed, sleeping off what is no doubt a massive hangover. His head is stuffed under a pillow and he’s snoring loudly. Beer bottles and a shot glass litter the floor. The pictures of us he keeps on his dresser are busted and there is a fist sized hole in the dry wall.
I climb up on the bed pulling the blanket back from him and give his shoulder a rough nudge. He grumbles, tightening the pillow over his face. I nudge him again and he mumbles out, “Leave me alone, Mom.”
I run my hand up the side of his face and his eyes snap open, blood shot and puffy from nights of drowning his sorrows in Jack. “Carly Jo, what the hell are you doin’ here?”
“Worried ‘bout you. You haven’t been to work since Tuesday and you’re avoiding me.”
“Just leave. Don’t need your sympathy. You know your way out.” He says rolling over, pulling the pillow back over his face. I punch him in the shoulder and yell out to him.
“Damn it, no. I ain’t goin’ any damn where! I made a mistake. But ya know what, so did you!” He rolls over, peering black as night eyes full of hatred right at me.
“Yeah, I did, darlin’. Eight damn years ago. But for the last six frickin’ months I did everything I could to show you my love, but it wasn’t good enough. Get on home, Carly Jo.” He grunts, shooing me off with his hand.
“Get your ass outta the bed, and get a shower. You stink, and your house is a mess. I’m gonna make a pot of coffee and try to find you something to eat. Besides, if I leave now your momma is gonna kick both of our asses.” I say, rising from the bed to go into the kitchen. Colton throws the blanket back, pulling himself up off the bed.
“You mean to tell me my own damn momma ratted me out?” I turn back looking at his blood shot eyes, nodding. “Shit! Can’t get any damn rest with all you nosey ass women in my life.” He says stumbling off to the shower.
The entire house is an unruly mess, so after the coffee is brewing, and I have a sandwich prepared for him at the table, I grab the trash can to start cleaning. As I’m sweeping up the broken glass in the kitchen, Colton comes into the kitchen and pours a cup of coffee. His hair has tiny rivulets of water dripping from the tips of his black locks, and a glistening sheen of moisture beads across his neck. He didn’t shave, the nearly four day old scruff tells me so. I like the scruff, it’s raw and sexy. I continue to sweep as he sips his coffee, but I can feel the hole he’s boring into the back of my head. Leaning down to scoop up the mess in the dustpan, Colton grips my elbow and pulls me up from squatting.
“Go home, Carly Jo.” He mutters, his face inches from mine as he peers angry black holes back at me. I can smell the hazelnut coffee on his breath. My knees tremor just a touch, and I’m not sure if it’s his close proximity or his rejection that’s doing me in.
“I’ll go home after this mess is cleaned up, and we’ve talked. I made a sandwich for you. Go sit down and eat. After I’ve straightened up, we are sorting all of this shit out.” I tell him point blank then turn back to the dust and glass on the floor. Colton cracks his knuckles against his palms, then flex his wrists at his side.
“We ain’t got shit to talk about. You didn’t wanna be ‘round when I needed you most, don’t need you here now.” He lashes back at me as he strolls carelessly into the dining room. Grabbing the sandwich, he makes his way into the living room to plop down in his favorite leather recliner, ignoring my presence. We’ve both hid behind the heartache long enough. So, I’ll use his tactic and smother it out of him. I place the broom back in the utility closet, then carry the trash can into the living room to clean up in there. I begin picking up the broken chunks of lamp when I turn to him to apologize.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me, tonight. But we could possibly be having a baby, Colton. I want this to be your baby.” I pause, as he rolls his eyes. He flicks the TV on, turning the volume up to drown me out. I stomp over to him and rip the remote from his hands, turning the TV off. I tear the back off, remove the batteries sliding them in my pocket then throw the remote across the room to the couch. Colton shoves the remaining end of the sandwich into his mouth with a cocked eye brow then shakes his head at me rolling his eyes.
