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It doesn’t help that I had another nightmare last night. The day following the terrors, the memories of Ian’s death always halt me. I should’ve canceled class today, but it’s too late.
Brendan runs through the hold again, talking me through the motions of how to get off. Hold his wrists around my throat, lift my hips, and push away with my legs. Run.
Over and over, until I’m able to break from the hold with him using most of his strength.
The next thirty minutes go by slow. I’m not here, too transfixed on my shitty day. Every day has been shitty since he died, but some days are worse than others. This—today—being alone when I want to throw in the towel is one of the worst ones.
My entire body quivers and sweat drips from my brow when finally, Brendan tells me our time is up. I pack up my things and head for the locker room to change. The eeriness of being here alone shouldn’t be too much for me, but here I am with a heaviness pressing down on my chest.
When I go home, it’ll be to nothing. The kids are still at my parents’. Vee texted me to tell me she won’t be home. These nights always seem to catch up to me, and I’m not sure I’m ready to go home and sit in bed with only the dog to keep me company. Batman is an awesome snuggle partner, but his paws smell like a stale bag of Fritos, and I’m not in the mood for that. I’d much rather have the scent of bergamot.
Crap. That’s like the hundredth time I’ve thought of Declan since I’ve been ignoring him. I’m supposed to be over him by now. Instead, I’m finding myself craving the smell of his cologne.Gah. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees.
I already can feel the depression settling. Once I climb into bed alone, I’m going to not have the will to get out. I let out a sigh, resting my elbows on my knees. Then I let the water in my eyes fall freely. I’m tired of crying, of feeling this sadness that curls deep inside of me. I hate I don’t know how to make it stop. Two minutes. I allow myself that before I clean myself up, wipe away the tears, and get my shit together. Opting for a shower here, in the locker room, because I already know that the second I get home, I’ll have no motivation to do it.
When I’m finished and changed, I grab my duffel bag and head out. After saying goodbye to Brendan, I head toward the train station. I didn’t drive here today; I knew I wouldn’t have the energy after my workout. Except, when I pass the bar before I make it to the subway, I freeze, and everything tells me to go in. It’s a urge that settles deep in my bones. And who am I to deny the universe what it wants?
There’s a little internal fight with myself, but not much. It’s just enough to make me feel better about my shitty decisions. I don’t evenwantto get drunk, I just don’t want to be alone when I get home.
I take a seat on the barstool, holding the shot glass in my hand. “I miss you,” I whisper.I miss you every day.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I let out a deep huff, not wanting the words to escape. Thinking them is hard enough without them ever leaving my lips.
My heart aches every morning. I wake up and touch your pillow and you’re not there. Come back to me so that I can tell you how beautiful our daughter is, and we can laugh about all the crazy things Max does. You won’t be there when she needs her daddy to walk her down the aisle. You won’t be there when Max needs you to teach him how to shave.
I don’t know what or how I’ve been doing this without you by my side. Every day, I feel like my best friend is missing. My heart can’t take it any longer.
I don’t want to drown in my sorrows with alcohol. I’ve never been that type of person, but I’ve always had the children to keep me on the straight and narrow. Two weeks without them is almost as bad as losing him.
So, I do whatever I thought I couldn’t do before, and I take the shot. The burn in the back of my throat and sets my stomach on fire, and I wait for the hazy cloud to fill my brain.
In the distance, the scraping of a stool against the marble floor catches my attention. A man’s rough clearing of his throat, and then his familiar voice. “Whiskey, neat.”
My stomach dips with a familiar sensation of butterflies. I turn and catch the dark scruff of his beard. He’s wearing a suit like I’ve seen before. Darkness looms over him, and I force a smile despite the nothingness that fills in the spots he left behind when I shut him out.
Fucking hell.It’s our third chance meeting. The one I never thought would happen.
Declan’s head turns in my direction, and he cracks a smile. “Sammy. What are you doing here?”
I stand so abruptly that the stool nearly topples over. “What areyoudoing here?” I ask him.
There are two empty seats between us, and I shove past them to be near him. My arms snake around his neck, his citrus and spice cologne so close. I take a soft inhale to be sure he is real, that I’m not hallucinating.
“I could ask you the same,” he rasps. “Actually, I believe I asked you first.”
I don’t answer him, just press my mouth to his. His tongue plunges inside of mine, and his arms wrap around my lower back. He pulls me against him. I don’t pull away. Not until I’m breathless, and my heart is beating so fast I can feel its pulse in the spot behind my ear.
I’ve been so determined to push him away, and I’m not sure why. Not when last weekend he made me feel more alive than I have been in a long time. Maybe it’s the wrong way to go about the grief I’ve been dealing with today, but I don’t want to be alone. And here he is, ready to make sure I’m not.
“I think you’re stalking me,” I whisper, my fingers scratching his scalp.
The soft hum of his approval sends a jolt of arousal straight through me, and I nibble at his ear. “Where’s your car parked?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t have it. Vee dropped me off at self-defense and I figured I’d take a cab home later.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his intense gaze on me. “Self-defense?”
I dip my chin in a silent acknowledgment.
