Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
My head throbs as I drag myself downstairs, and my footfalls on the steps sound like thunder echoing through my skull.
I rub a hand over my face as I reach the bottom, scratching at the stubble I haven’t shaved in days.
At this point, I can’t even be sure what day it is…
I haven’t stepped outside since Alder brought me home.
But I need to today. Because I have to go in to work.
And I need more rum.
I finished my last bottle last night, and it’s been the only thing keeping me from completely losing it.
As I head for the kitchen, something through the front window catches my eye, and I pause.
My car is parked in the driveway.
It takes a moment for my mind to catch up and remember that I left it at my parents’ house in Moncton.
I’ve been drunk for days, so I barely even noticed it wasn’t here, but…
I also think I was trying to ignore that.
Because as I stand here and stare at it, the emotion I’ve been trying to bury under the rum tries to make its way out, and I swallow hard.
Alder made sure I got it back… just like he said he would.
Suddenly, my phone buzzes in my pocket, and I flinch as my entire body recoils from the sound and feeling.
Every sense is overwhelmed as it continues to ring, and I close my eyes as I try to pull in a deep breath.
I feel like I’m riding the edge of collapse from too much alcohol and not enough sleep, and I know if I look at the screen, I’ll either be pissed off or want to cry.
Because I know it’s either Mom, Dad, or Darren.
They’ve been calling and texting nonstop, and I haven’t been able to answer yet.
I can barely stand to be in my own mind, let alone manage someone else’s worry.
And right now, I can barely handle being sober.
All I want in this moment is another drink, so I can continue to drown out this ache that won’t let up, and lighten the unbearable weight pressing down on me from all sides.
The buzzing stops, and I keep my eyes on my car for a moment longer as I try to keep myself from checking my phone to see which one of my family members it was this time.
But I do it anyway, because I seem to find some sick joy in making myself suffer. And lighting up the screen is a missed call from Dad.
I rub a hand over my face with a sigh and turn away from the window, shoving my phone back in my pocket.
First stop, liquor store.
I twist off the cap of the brand new rum bottle before I’m even fully in my chair and pour it into my empty travel mug on my desk.
Then I toss the bottle back into my bag, sit back, and take a long drink as I let it burn on the way down.
I close my eyes as I sit back and let it flow through me, feeling the familiar sting and biting heat carve a path to push this new pain away. The pain I finally feel.
I’d rather be numb again.
Just as I take another long drink, there’s a knock at my door. I open my eyes, and a loud sigh escapes me.
“Hey Cade,” Annika says with a cautious smile as she steps into my office. But she pauses, and her smile drops as her eyes roam over me. “Are you—”
“What do you want?” I ask, unable to hear those words come out of her mouth right now. Because I’m not sure I have the ability to lie about it in this moment.
Her eyes widen as she glances over me again, watching me like I’m a bomb about to blow.
She’s not wrong.
“Um… I just wanted to let you know Spencer was here,” she says finally, and very carefully.
I pull in a breath as I slide my computer out of my bag and set it on the desk.
“He tends to do that,” I say as I flip it open and hit the power button, trying to use this as a signal for her to fuck off. “Since he’s a student here.”
“Well, he was looking for you,” she says, taking a step closer. “He said you had a meeting.”
I pause for a moment. Fuck.
But I continue typing my password and keep my eyes fixed on the screen. “He knows my email.”
“He said he did email you. A couple times…”
The login screen clears, my inbox opens, and sure enough… There are three unread messages from Spencer.
My eyes skim over the preview of the first two, and my chest tightens.
Spencer Holwell
Subject: Meeting Today
Hi Dr. Cormier. I stopped by your office for our meeting, but you weren’t in. I’m just working on the final manuscript and have a question about…
Spencer Holwell
Subject: Question for Manuscript
Hi Dr. Cormier. I just wanted to follow up on my question about the decay rates and the figure. Once I have this done I should be good to submit…
Shit. Shit shit shit.
His deadline is Monday for his manuscript submission, and I’ve left him completely in the dark.
Fuck.
“Cade?”
I look up to see Omar standing in the doorway behind Annika, arms crossed and eyes fixed on me.
Annika’s eyes widen before she turns to him, then looks back at me like she’s scared for what she’s about to witness.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
“Omar,” I say flatly as I force my hand to stay on the keyboard instead of reaching for my mug.
“You missed a meeting with your grad student?” he asks in a way that’s a clear warning for me not to lie to him.
I blow out a breath and look down at my keyboard, clenching my jaw as I fight the urge to explode. I know what this looks like, and I know why he’s looking over my shoulder, but it’s one meeting. One fucking meeting, and I can get Spencer in here today, and everything will be fine.
“Annika, excuse us, please,” Omar says quietly.
I glance up as she flashes me a look that lands somewhere between an apology, worry, and pity. Then she quickly turns and slides past Omar, disappearing into the hallway.
“It’s Tuesday, Omar, we have time,” I say, trying not to roll my eyes as I shift my gaze back to my computer. “His deadline isn’t until Monday. I’ll meet with him today—”
“It’s Thursday.”
My eyes fly up to the corner of my screen on my laptop, where the date stares back at me.
It’s Thursday.
What the fuck…
“Are you drunk?” Omar asks, stepping closer.
I lift my gaze to meet his as he eyes me carefully, with a furrowed brow and a wild look in his eyes that could be anger or panic… or both.
And I can’t even find the will to give a shit.
“Not yet,” I say, holding his stare.
He doesn’t look away as he stands across the desk, and his expression turns into a glare.
“You’re leaving me with no choice, Cade,” he says in a very calculated tone, like he’s holding back what he really wants to say.
A lump rises in my throat, and my vision turns hazy. I know I’m on the verge of losing everything right now, as I stand back and watch it all slide out of reach. My family, my job… Alder. Everything I’ve ever had a grip on is slipping through my fingers like I was never holding on at all.
And I want to reach for it… but I can’t.
My arms are too heavy, and it feels impossible.
The window where I can escape from all of this is closing faster each day, and all I can do is watch it. Because it’s easier than trying to push it back open. It’s easier to let everything go than fight against the thing that’s been keeping me down for as long as I can remember.
It just fucking hurts.
Omar’s expression shifts for a brief moment as he watches me, and his features soften slightly.
But I blink it all away and drop my gaze.
“It’s one meeting,” I say, my voice quieter and more resigned than I intended. “I can meet with him today.”
“No. You can’t.”
My head jerks up, and his expression is hard again.
“I’m moving forward with a recommendation for contract review.” He shakes his head as his eyes sweep across the mess of my office. “This is out of control. I don’t know what else to do. I’ve given you every chance, and you don’t even seem to care.”
I push to my feet so suddenly, his eyes fly back to me with surprise.
“I don’t care?” I ask, staring right at him. “I’m fucking here, aren’t I?”
I show up every damn day when I need to, despite wanting to just disappear. When I just want to drink until I forget who I am. I’m fighting against myself every day to just show up and not give up. And he says I don’t care.
Omar watches me for a moment as his eyes search mine. “Barely,” he says.
That word slices into me like a blade, carving through what little I’m holding together.
I can’t fucking do this.
I grab my computer and shove it in my bag, and Omar doesn’t even try to stop me as I storm past him. And I do everything I can to not look at him. Because I can’t fucking deal with the disappointment I know is written all over his face.
But as I head down the hall, Annika appears at her door.
“Cade,” she says with wide eyes and a look of panic and pity. Which is even fucking worse. “Wait, please, are—”
“Mind your fucking business,” I snap at her, and head right out of the building.
Fuck this.
Fuck everything.
Fuck.