Before I had a chance to reach for the handle, he pulled the door open from the inside. I could see the question in his eyes as he took in my choice of clothing, but just as I suspected he didn't say a word. Instead, he ushered me inside and brought me out one of his tee shirts, and a pair of sweat pants.
I took the clothes, and went into the bathroom to change before returning to the kitchen once again. He was sitting at the island with two glasses of whiskey, and I smiled. Sometimes a little predictability was a good thing. I claimed the seat beside him, and brought the glass to my lips taking a nice slow sip.
“How was your day?” He asked, before doing the same.
“I'm pretty sure we bagged our last investor.”
“That's great news, honey.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“I hit a few garage sales after work. Found a couple of bicycles, and an HO scale train set. It's a Tyco. Never been opened.”
“Wow. I can't wait to see it.”
“Maybe we can set it up tomorrow? After breakfast?”
“It's a date.” I said, before polishing off the rest of my glass.
He stood then, kissing the top of my head. “Goodnight, honey.”
“Night, Dad.”
I heard his bedroom door shut, and I stood to grab the bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. I refilled my glass, and then pulled my phone from the pocket of my purse. Nineteen missed calls, and nearly forty text messages. All from Derek, and all asking me when I was coming home. I thought about calling Morgan, but if I knew her like I thought I did she was most likely somewhere swanky underneath of Mister Stetson.
I powered my phone off, and after polishing off my second glass I poured another. Usually, the burn of the whiskey as it slid down my throat put me off. Not tonight though. Tonight I welcomed the harsh sting. Relished in it. So I kept drinking. I poured glass, after glass until the bottle was nearly empty. My head was spinning, and when I stood my legs were shaky.
I used the furniture to get myself into my childhood bedroom, and the instant I fell down onto the plush bed I let out a sigh of relief. I pulled the comforter up, and over my chest before closing my eyes. Suddenly the only thing I could see was the blonde straddling Derek in our bed. Her long curls flowing over her shoulders as she worked her hips. His hands on her waist, guiding her. Suddenly I felt sick.
I scrambled up from the bed, and bolted into the bathroom across the hall barely making it to the toilet. I ejected the contents of my stomach over, and over again until there was nothing left. I was dry heaving now, and that's when the tears crept their way back to the surface. I lay in a crumpled heap on my dad's bathroom floor reeking of vomit, and self loathing. I had never felt more worthless in my entire life.
I had given twelve years to Derek. I had taken care of him when he was sick, and supported him when he wasn't working. I spent my savings on him, and never once used it for myself. All because I never felt good enough. I never felt like I was deserving, and it didn't matter anyway. If he wanted something, and I could make him happy I did it. I always felt like I was the lucky one because he loved me. He loved me. With all of my flaws, and imperfections. What if I never found someone to love me again? What if leaving was a mistake?
I pulled myself up from the floor then, and splashed cold water on my face before opening the spare toothbrush from the medicine cabinet. I brushed my teeth, and used some of dad's mouthwash before washing my face off once again. My eyes were puffy, and my cheeks were pale but I needed to go back home.
My mind made up, I pulled the bathroom door open with conviction. Instead of walking through it however, I was stopped by my dad. His arms were crossed, and from the look on his face I could tell that he was not amused.
“Dad?” I asked, taking a step back.
“You don't have to tell me anything, but you are not going back home tonight.”
“Dad, I just-”
“You drained an entire bottle of whiskey, and I could hear you crying from my bedroom. You came here for a reason tonight. Sleep on it. No decision needs to be made right now.”
My bottom lip quivered, and he pulled me into a tight hug. He wasn't a hugger. This wasn't something that we normally did. Even when we said goodbye on the telephone we never said 'I love you.' Feeling his strong arms around me right now though, in the midst of everything seemed to be exactly what I needed. He was right. Whatever I decided I needed to really think on it.
He broke our hug a few seconds later, and used his thumbs to wipe my tears. I sniffled, and he gave me a warm smile.
“Get some sleep.” He said, softly.
I nodded, and then he turned on his heel and went back to his bedroom. I took a few deep breaths, and then I did the same. With the comforter back over me, and the sound of the newly fallen rain to lull me to sleep I closed my eyes.
I WOKE UP THE NEXT morning to the smell of bacon and eggs. My stomach nearly recoiled, but I managed to keep the nausea at bay. After brushing my teeth I made my way out to the kitchen in search of my dad. Imagine my surprise when I rounded the corner to find my mom sitting across from him drinking a cup of coffee.
“Mom?” I asked, with surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“Your
