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I shook my head and groaned as I laid back on the floor. Carpet fibers dug into the skin on my arms, but I didn’t care. My body was full of alcohol and misery. I barely felt a thing.
Andrea laid down beside me and held my hand. The world spun around us, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before we both passed out. Still, I wasn’t ready to succumb to sleep. Not yet. There was still something I had to do while I felt courageous and bold.
“I’m going to call him again,” I said. I sat up to search for my phone.
“You already did that,” Andrea said. “Remember?”
“Only when I was sober,” I said. “I haven’t drunk called him yet.”
“That’s a good thing,” Andrea said. Her eyes swam as she tried to focus on my face. “Drunk calls are never a good idea, Jules.”
“That’s not true,” I said firmly. “Alcohol makes you confident. Strong. I need to say some things to Michael while I still feel this way.”
“You’re going to regret it,” Andrea said.
“I won’t.”
I didn’t know if Andrea was right or if I was, but I didn’t care. At that moment, I only had one thought running through my head: Michael. He needed to know just how badly he hurt me. He needed to know how badly he screwed up tonight. This, unlike everything else, was unforgivable. My heart was in pieces on the floor and, still, Michael hadn’t bothered to call me back or send me a text. I was done with him, and he needed to know that.
“Oh look,” I said. “My phone.”
I lunged across the floor to grab it. When I unlocked the screen, I noticed that my fingers felt heavy. What I didn’t remember was that I’d already drunk dialed Michael once that night. I didn’t leave a message, but I tried to call him while Andrea was in the bathroom. Now, though, I didn’t care if Andrea listened. I didn’t care if the whole world listened. I was calling Michael; consequences be damned.
“Are you sure about this?” Andrea asked. She was still lying on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling.
“I’m sure.”
I dialed Michael’s number and pressed the phone clumsily to my ear. It went straight to voicemail. Michael’s deep voice filled my ears. My stomach tightened. Even his voice was sexy. I hated myself for thinking it, but I couldn’t help it.
“Michael!” I said after the beep. “You still haven’t called me. What the fuck? After everything you’ve already put me through, you’re just going to stand me up? Is this a joke or something? Are you and Joshua sitting together at some bar, laughing at my expense? ‘Oh, that stupid Julie! She actually thought I would show up tonight! What an idiot!’”
I paused to hiccup. My throat burned from the remnants of the alcohol I drank that night, but I pressed on.
“Well, I am an idiot,” I said. “I’m an idiot to believe that you ever cared about me. I thought you lied because you liked me, but you didn’t. You lied because you’re a liar and nothing more. You’re just a lying liar asshole like your brother, and I never want to see you again. Ever!”
Andrea snorted beside me. She was right, I was starting to ramble. I sounded ridiculous, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t done yet.
“Don’t call me,” I said. “Don’t come by. Don’t even try to see me. You lost your chance. I gave you a second chance, and you fucked it up, so just stay away from me. For good.”
I hung up and immediately toppled over backward. Andrea laughed at my clumsiness, and soon, I was roaring with laughter right along with her. We rolled on the floor, both red in the face and beyond drunk. It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized what I’d done.
It wasn’t funny. Nothing about this situation was humorous and, yet, laughter was the only thing that kept me glued together that night. Andrea and I both passed out at around the same time, curling up on my living room floor and letting the alcohol lull us into a deep sleep.
The next morning, my head was spinning. My stomach felt like a pit of burning lava. I stumbled into the bathroom and pulled the door closed behind me. Andrea was still asleep, so I jumped in the shower and tried to wash off the memory of last night. If I could have stayed there all day, just letting the warm water drip over my skin, I would have.
But about twenty minutes later, Andrea called out to me from the hallway. She had to leave for work, so I turned off the shower and let her use the bathroom. We said a quick goodbye, but I wasn’t ready for her to leave.
“Thank you for coming over,” I said. “I’m not sure I could have survived last night without you.”
“You can survive anything, Julie,” Andrea said firmly. “Anything.”
She squeezed my arm and jumped in her car. I stood in my front yard until she turned the corner and disappeared.
CHAPTER 30
MICHAEL
Around three in the morning, Sheila and I saw Josh. He’d been out of surgery for a few hours, but they wanted to observe him for a while. We stayed in the waiting room, talking and sipping coffee to stay awake. It wasn’t an easy night. Not only were we both worried about Josh, but things between us were tense and uncomfortable.
