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“Let’s celebrate.” She crawled off the bed and dug underneath, unearthing a bottle of vodka and cranberry juice. She poured us each a drink and we sat back on her bed getting comfortable to watch a rom-com.
Between laughing and getting drunk, I came up with a plan. I wasn’t sure if I could go to Callum and take him up on his offer, but I had other options that I could come to him with to at least try and repair the damage I created because of my pride.
Callum
“Is this the right knob, Dr. Pierce?” Andrea asked. We’d been out under the stars for thirty minutes, but with her flirty voice and constant batting eyelashes, it felt like it was thirty hours.
“I can help you if you need me to,” Kenneth offered as he stared at her ass.
My head pounded as I readjusted the telescope again back to where it needed to be. “Just don’t touch it this time, okay?” I was barely holding back my exasperation with the situation.
“But what if I want to touch it?” she asked, trying to portray innocence.
“I’d let you touch it,” Kenneth chimed in.
Breathe in for five seconds. Breathe out for five. In for five. Out for five.
“Let’s just find your star and write the description,” I said with a forced smile.
I hadn’t had a drink in two days. I thought maybe if I could limit my drinking and still keep a tight rein on my emotions, I could go back to Oaklyn a better man. Instead, over the past two days, I’d been on edge. Snapping at everyone. Poor Donna just gave me looks that said I could be pissy all I wanted, but I better stop taking it out on her.
It wasn’t fair to anyone around.
Maybe I was being just as stubborn as Oaklyn in thinking that I could somehow numb myself to these emotions, even without alcohol, and that would make everything better.
Earlier in the stock room had proved how futile that thought was. I knew she was in there alone, and I went anyway. A glutton for punishment, knowing nothing good would come of it. I’d still been a selfish bastard and kissed her. I just hated seeing her so hurt. Needed to kiss her pain away, tell her how sorry I was again.
Each day in class she walked in like a zombie, looking as bad as I felt. I hated it. Hated every single thing about all of this. Mostly, I hated how weak I felt. Like I was putting us through this because I was a weak, damaged man. You’d think it would push me to do something about it, but it all felt like a waste. I thought I had done something about it before, and yet there I stood in the middle of a park with two of my students, trying to not just pack up and tell them to stop wasting my time, so I could go home and return to drinking myself to death.
It wasn’t me. I loved teaching. I loved this project and seeing the students’ awe at seeing the stars in a way they never had.
I’d lost that version of myself somewhere in the past few months. Instead, I tapped my thumb on my thigh, impatient for Andrea to finish scribbling some note in her book so we could get the fuck out of here, and I could go home to drink.
“Done!” she proclaimed victoriously.
“Fantastic,” I said, already breaking down the telescope. “You guys can go ahead and leave, and I’ll get this all packed up.”
“Do you need any help, Dr. Pierce?” Andrea said, kneeling down too close beside me to grab a part.
“No,” I snapped, causing her to snatch her hand back like I’d slapped it. “No,” I repeated, gentler this time. “Thank you, but I have everything. It’s late. Go ahead and head home.”
As soon as I got everything in my car, I raced home. I left the case in the car and opened my door, tossing the keys to the table and shrugging off my coat, letting it lie on the floor.
Grabbing a glass, I went to the kitchen to snag the extra bottle of liquor in the top cabinet, having drank everything from my wet bar already. I filled half the glass and drank it in two swallows. I filled it again and thought about Oaklyn. I thought about how soft her lips had felt on mine. How golden her eyes looked when they were glossed over with tears.
I drank the contents of the glass and refilled it.
I thought about how her cheek pressed into my palm, searching for comfort I didn’t know how to give anymore.
I drank again. And refilled again.
I thought about how her cries had echoed off the glass in the stock room, all of it bouncing back to pierce my heart all over again.
