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I fight with my urge to look back, and lose.
She looks dazed. Confused.
It’s better than fucking destroyed.
I don’t bellow my despair to the heavens until I make it back to my car.
17
I don’t remembermy drive back to The Manor. Massive Attack played, and whenAngelcame on, I turned up the volume to its maximum, trying to drown out my thoughts and the image of her looking at me, lost and stunned.
I park my Aston haphazardly and walk up the steps of my manor on numb legs, my mind focused on the only thing that can get me out of this hell. I pace through the rooms, ignoring everyone I pass, and John comes out of my office with Sarah as I approach, his face grave when he sees me. I start shrugging my way out of my jacket and pulling my tie loose.
“Don’t do it,” he says as I pass him and enter my office. “Don’t do it, Jesse.”
“Why?” Sarah asks. “He looks like he needs to relax.”
“Shut the fuck up,” John barks, but I’m too focused to appreciate how angry he must be to talk to Sarah like that. He never talks to Sarah like that, no matter how much of a bitch she can be.
I head to the drinks cabinet and brace my hands on the edge, my breathing labored, my eyes scanning the bottles. “Leave me,” I order, feeling John’s presence still behind me. “Just leave me the fuck alone.”
The door closes, and I continue to stare at the bottles, every shitty thing that’s happened in my life running circles in my head, cruelly reminding me of my innumerable shortcomings. Of my stupidity. Of what I’ve lost and what I can never have.Ava.She’s at the top of the list, but then there is also purpose, hope, peace... freedom.
Forgiveness.
None of those things will ever be mine.
My nostrils flare, and I swipe up a bottle, taking it to my desk and dropping to my chair, placing it in front of me. I can smell it. I can smell the relief, the numbness, the emptiness. I slam my palm into my temple, clenching my eyes closed. I see Jake. I see Lauren. I see Rosie. I see Carmichael. I see the knife, the alcohol, hear the hateful words.
The horror movie that is my life plays before my eyes, every unbearable detail, every awful moment.
And at the end, before the curtain falls, Ava’s face.
The end.
I grab the bottle, unscrew the cap, and take it to my lips, swigging back the respite within my reach. I gasp, wincing, the burn fierce.More.I take it back to my mouth, glugging the vodka, determined to get lost in the bottle.
How old are you?
More vodka.
I’m never letting you go.
I don’t want you to.
More vodka.
I’m going to get lost in you.
More vodka.
Once I’ve had you, you’re mine.
More. Fucking. Vodka.
The seconds blur into minutes, and the minutes into hours. Every moment painful. I work my way through the entire bottle, getting angrier with every recollection taunting me.
Every moment when I was offered wasted hope.
