Succeeding Love

Drowned In Loneliness

Nick

Earlier…..

“Sleep it off, you jerk,” Fay hissed in annoyance after Preston helped her get me out of my shoes and jacket and into my bed.

I wasn’t as drunk as before, sobering up some on the drive home, but I didn’t let that show, knowing being drunk was my only defense against Fay’s wrath.

She was taking care of me, too. It wasn’t like before, when she would giggle and laugh at my drunken antics before tenderly helping me get to bed. We used to drink together on the nights when the kids were at their grandparents, and she was always playful and teasing.

That was the Fay I was dealing with now. She was furious, but at least she was close to me. Closer than I had felt in months. Confined in the space of my car, the reality of that sobered me up more than anything.

As I was propped on her shoulders, I could smell the sweet scent of her perfume, the same kind she had always used. I could hear every little groan and every muttered insult as she tried to guide my staggering body.

I couldn’t help myself but find the smallest amount of satisfaction seeing her anger not only aimed at me, but at her new hoodlum boyfriend, too.

She even protected me from him. That has to mean something, right?

It wasn’t until I heard her telling Jessie and Preston to pack their things to go home that the panic set in, and I realized how badly I messed up.

“I…. It’s my weekend,” I mumbled, trying to lift the sheets to get out of the bed. They were tangled in my arms and took a lot of effort to get off.

Fay turned a hard glare at me. “You want me to trust you with my children after the display you made tonight? Grow up, Nick. Sleep it off and we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

Damn it. I messed up. I wasn’t as drunk as I was at the event, but I wasn’t sober enough not to stumble as I definitely stood from the bed.

If I hadn’t been used to drinking heavily as of late, I might have already passed out, but this level of intoxication seemed safe enough for me to still have my kids. I didn’t want Fay taking them from me. Not when they were the last good thing left in my life.

“P-please, Fay. Not my kids….” I was panicking. Was I about to lose them, too?

“Geez, dad,” Preston came back into the bedroom, taking one sad look at me before helping to pick me up off the floor. I hadn’t even realized I was still on it. In my head, I was walking towards Fay, who was watching me with cold eyes from the open door. “You’re a mess. Do you really want Jessie to stay here and see you like this?”

“I-I’m fine,” I slurred as Preston groaned, picking me up from the floor and setting me back on the edge of the bed.

My stomach twisted, and Preston hurriedly grabbed an empty plastic storage box from the end of my bed and put it in front of me to lose the contents of my stomach.

That was when Jessie reappeared at the door to see what was happening, and I looked up to see the horror on her face. It made my stomach twist again.

No, I didn’t want my daughter to see me like this. I didn’t want my son to clean up after me and catch my vomit with moving supplies. I didn’t want my wife looking at me like I was trash. Like I was the lowest of the low.

I didn’t want any of this. I wanted to suffer alone where no one could see me falling apart.

Fay reassured our daughter I was fine, just momentarily sick, and instructed her to finish packing so they could give me time to get better. Jessie pleaded with her mother to stay and look after me, but I didn’t want that. I only wanted her to see the best in me, and I was failing miserably.

“G-Go with your mom, honey,” I said in a much more sober tone. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Jessie looked distraught, but Fay urged her to go, and she eventually did. Then Fay gave me a pitying look before taking the bile-filled box from Preston’s hands and walking into the bathroom with it.

I heard the shower turn on, then the sounds of something being washed as she called out for Preston to go pack.

Preston gave me one last frigid glare before turning to walk out of my bedroom, leaving me alone with Fay cleaning my puke in the bathroom.

She came back out moments later with a washcloth in one hand and my trash can in the other. “Use this to clean your mouth,” she handed the washcloth to me. “Your box is drying in the bathtub. Use the trash can if you feel sick again.”

I put the washcloth over my entire face, letting the wet coolness sober me further. “I’m sorry,” I whispered in a raspy plea.

“Yeah, me too. Me freaking too. Get sober and we’ll talk about you getting the kids back tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled again, unable to even look at her as I laid back in the bed. The bed we once shared. “I’m so, so sorry, Fay.”

It was silent for a long time, so I moved the washcloth, thinking she had left. She hadn’t. She was still standing beside the bed, but was staring down at the pictures I had pulled out from storage. The ones that were in that empty plastic storage box I had just emptied my stomach into. They were all pictures of us. Us in our good times.

I got drunk most nights while staring at every one of them, wishing for those times to return.

Fay ran her fingers over a photo of her holding Jessie right after she was born with Preston’s toddler body pressed against hers, trying to see his new sister more closely. Fay was radiant, filled with so much love. It was one of my favorite pictures of her.

She then sighed before giving me one last pitying look. “You don’t need my forgiveness, Nick. You need to quit torturing yourself.”

Then she left, calling for the kids to head out the door. I was left alone, staring at those pictures in my miserable state.

This was the first time Fay had come to the condo. The condo we had talked about buying together for years. I had hoped to build memories to cherish with her again in this place. Now it’s going to be stained with the memories of how pathetic I was tonight.

Minutes later, I heard the door open again, and thought maybe Fay had decided to stay and take care of me like she always used to do. I don’t know why I deluded myself into thinking that was even a possibility.

Instead, Preston looked in the bedroom, then let out a heavy sigh, seeing I was still awake.

“You’re so embarrassing, Dad. Geez. Here are your keys.” He dropped them on my dresser. “You still can’t stop trying to bring mom down with you, can you?”

As she shook his head in bitter shame, whatever small fragments were left of my dignity disappeared.

The coldness in my condo never felt so harsh as I sat there alone, staring at the photos of the life I destroyed.

Picking up the Johnny Walker bottle I kept hidden in my nightstand drawer, I drowned the loneliness away.

~

Feighlynn

“You’re my home.”

Those words were haunting me.

I felt terrible. Not just for pushing Vin away like I did, but because of the situation itself. I had been living in a fairytale, but tonight, I got hit with a hard dose of reality just from one innocent bathroom visit.

Well, not really innocent, but the fairytale was real when I stepped into that bathroom with my panties in disarray, then stepped out with a nightmare clinging to my shoulders.

And to make matters worse, I broke apart from all the emotional strain before Vin and I could even talk. My head was still full of irrational thoughts as we were coming back home, and I just didn’t want to dive into any more tonight. I didn’t want to break down any more than I already had.

Vin’s face when I told him to go home made me want to forget the entire night, forget Nick and all the crap he started. It made me want to crawl over to Vin and cry in his arms until all the embarrassment, all the disgust, all the regret, all the guilt just drowned out and all I could feel was him.

I couldn’t bring myself to do that just yet.

He was my haven, but tonight, he was the man who wouldn’t listen to me and just made an already unpleasant situation worse. And felt so incredibly guilty for putting him there. Putting him in the position to show that side of him. I felt like it was my fault for going to him and not someone else.

I got so used to relying on him; I didn’t think there would be a situation where I couldn’t.

“I’m sorry, Lynn,” Vin whispered after stopping at the curb of my house. “I really am.”

The words weren’t what got me, but it was the hard set in his jaw and the tightness of his eyes as he didn’t meet my stare. He was staring at the rip in my dress instead.

I mumbled some sort of “goodnight” then hurried out of his car and into my house. I could feel his eyes on me then, but didn’t have the courage to look back. I only had to fumble with my keys for a second before Preston opened the door to let me in.

Preston’s expression when he saw my face triggered more emotions to pour out of me. Pres wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me inside as I broke down.

My son shouldn’t have to hold his mom as she sobbed about his dad being an asshole and her boyfriend being insensitive. But there we were. Standing in the entrance to my house, Preston rubbed back and whispered “I got you, mom,” until I eventually calmed down.

He gingerly walked me up to my room when I said I wanted to shower and change, but when he left, all I did was lay on the bed, cuddled around Kevin while still wearing my torn dress, listening to the murmurings of my kids outside my bedroom door. I was left in my regrets, letting them eat away with me until I felt empty inside.

Eventually, the house calmed down. I’m sure Jessie was disturbed about the events of tonight, but Preston handled her, too.

My son was picking up the pieces of us left and right. That fueled my guilt further.

Why was I so emotionally triggered right now? Why did I get so emotional about Vin? It wouldn’t be the first time I had to deal with a situation that felt like all hell was breaking loose. I can usually put my big girl panties on and not let things get to me the way they did tonight.

Was it because of the shock? Because my boyfriend was about to punch the father of my kids? Was it fear of the repercussions to Nick and Vin’s careers that made me get so mad?

I knew none of those things were it. I know why tonight got to me as drastically as it did.

It was because it was Vin. Because the man I was falling for, the first man I felt anything with in longer than I could remember, was the one at the center of it all.

Reality had hit me hard. Knock me to the ground, literally. I had been living in a fantasy, thinking that my boyfriend was perfect in every way, but that wasn’t the man who was facing off with my drunk ex tonight.

The Vin I saw was no action hero coming to save the day with his level head, cool demeanor and big muscles. All I saw were the muscles, and tonight that scared me. The feral anger was something I didn’t expect.

We were just talking about living together, for Pete’s sake. If he had actually punched Nick, how would moving in together work? Jessie is still very much a daddy’s girl, and she hates violence. Preston might have been okay with it, but that would just have strained his relationship with Nick more.

All the future drop offs and family events would have been so strained. The kids would never feel a moment of peace. It might already be that way.

Even though I had so many reasons to be upset, why did my heart hurt and yearn for Vin so badly still?

Kevin groaned in doggy annoyance as I reached over him for my purse at the foot of the bed. I pulled out my phone after wiping my eyes on the back of my hand. Kevin sat up and licked my face, making me fumble and drop my phone several times before settling him down enough to unlock the screen.

There, at the top of the notifications, was a missed call from Vin. Then a simple text.

My Hero:| I’m sorry, baby. I really am.

Tears burned my eyes again as I stared longingly at the screen. Why did I tell him to go home? Yes, the kids ended up coming back to the house, but he clearly didn’t want to leave things as they were, and right now, all I feel is regret.

So what if he ended up punching Nick? I should have punched Nick, and all things considered, I would have been justified in doing so. So what if they lost their jobs? Nick is a lawyer, and a decent one at that. He could have found a new firm with less repulsive bosses.

And Vin could just come to live with me. We had decided on that anyway, didn’t we? I can be a sugar mam. I make enough to take care of feeding another mouth, even one that’s as hungry as his. I could take care of him.

I mean, the man is older than me, but considering tonight’s events, I’m no longer sure if he is more mature than me or not. More steady on his feet? Yes. Stronger? Definitely. Sexier in every way? Without a doubt. More mature? Surely not. But I doubt there is a man out there that would have been in that situation.

With my phone in hand, I typed up several messages, starting with apologetic, then ranting with exasperation, then deleting everything and simply typing out that I missed him.

That was it.

I missed him, and I was no longer mad. I was just exhausted and empty and wanted him here to hold me and put me back together.

As I went back and forth on what to say, what to type and send, my eyes grew heavier and heavier until exhaustion got the better of me. I knew I would not write anything coherent with my vision this blurry with sleep, so I deleted everything except the “I miss you”.

After pressing send, I let the phone fall out of my hands onto the bed, and then cuddled deeper into Kevin, wishing he was a different Kevin lying here with me.

~

Grrrrr….

I woke to Kevin growling in annoyance beside me, moving his furry body closer so I was hanging onto the bed by a butt cheek.

Still groggy, I opened my eyes to get him to move, but then I saw my phone light going off as it vibrated beside Kevin’s legs.

As I wiped the sleep from my eyes, I reached for it hurriedly to see if it was Vin. He had been the focal point in my dreams, and I just remembered the text I sent before passing out.

But it wasn’t him. It wasn’t a number I recognized at all.

“Hello?” I answered when it was close to rolling over to voicemail.

“Hello. Am I speaking with Feighlynn Micheals?” A woman’s voice asked me in a direct tone.

I checked the clock. It was three in the morning. Who the heck was this?

“Yes?” I said carefully. “Can I help you?”

“Yes ma’am. I’m a nurse at Carris Methodist. We just had a patient come in with you listed as his next of kin. We’re going to need you to come down here as soon as you can.”