AllFreeNovel
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“M’kay. Welcome to the club. Mark can get you a t-shirt.”
She sighs and turns to Mark.
“He’s less surly when he drinks, believe it or not,” he says. That’s a plan I can get behind. I sit up and wobble past them and into the bathroom. I swallow some aspirin and strip out of my clothes from last night before hopping in the shower. There. See? I can be reasonable.
When I come out, I feel about three percent better. I throw on some clean jeans and a t-shirt and walk out to the kitchen with damp hair. I open cupboards, looking for the scotch.
“We’re out.” Mark says. Emilia is nowhere to be found. Good.
With a sigh, I stomp into my boots and grab my phone, keys, and hat. Mark curses and calls my name as I walk out the door. I ignore him. I realize it’s Mark’s hat when I stare at my reflection in the elevator walls, but I care little. My beard is full and bushy. I don’t even recognize myself.
The doors open to the lobby, and I head straight for the bar at the hotel restaurant. I plop onto a stool and the bartender tosses down a coaster. She gives me a flirty wink, and I ask her for scotch with my dead eyes. She frowns and pours. I sip and stare into my cup. Liv’s face floats in front of me and I sink into the vision.
Someone large and looming sits next to me at the bar, even though there are plenty of open seats. I glance, then do a double take.
“Are you here for the intervention?” I quip, taking a sip of my scotch.
Brando gives a throaty chuckle and orders a beer. “We’ve been through too much for us to let you drown.”
I shrug. We’re both quiet for a while. “It hurts too much without her.” My voice is low and quiet, almost a whisper.
“Yea, well. That’s the choice you made. She wouldn’t want you to be this miserable.”
Oh, hello guilt. Why don’t you take a seat next to shame and regret? Buckle up, you’re going to be here a while. Of course, Liv wouldn’t want me to be spiraling like this. Because even though I dumped her, her heart is too big to hate me. That’s ok, I’ll hate me enough for the both of us.
“How...how is she?” I can’t help it. I ask, even though I don’t have the right.
Brando sighs. “She’s doing better than you. I’ll tell you that much.”
“That’s good. She deserves to be happy.”
“You’re crazier than I thought if you think she’s happy. She’s not. But she’s trying to be.”
I sigh and slump onto the bar.
“She’d take you back after a little groveling. Well, a lot of groveling.”
I shake my head no. “She’s still not safe.”
“She won’t wait around for you.”
“Good. She shouldn’t.”
Brando sighs again. “Alright, well. Gird your loins, brother. This part is going to suck.” He picks up his beer and turns to me with a sympathetic smile. Then he stands up and walks away, revealing Skye sitting on the next stool.
They brought the big guns. She meets my eyes with such disapproval that all I can see is Mom. I down the rest of my scotch and grit my teeth as the burning liquid flows down my gullet. She scoots closer, and I set my glass down and try to pull her in for a hug, but she bats my hands away.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she asks.
I frown at her. “Watch your fucking mouth.”
“You’re in no position to lecture me right now, dumbass.”
I sigh because she’s right.
“If you’re going to tell me to get my shit together, you can fuck off...” I strangle over my words when I realize what’s coming out of my mouth. I’ve never talked to her like that, and a wave of shame washes over me. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
She sighs and puts a hand on my bicep. “You can’t keep going down this path. I know you’re hurting, but I still need you.”
