47. Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Six
Lisette
W hen I watched movies where the character went insane, I always thought to myself how that could never happen to me. They always seem unrealistically mad. I believed I had a grip too strong on reality for that.
I may have been wrong.
“Why are you whispering?” Bay voices on the other end, also whispering.
“Why else do people whisper, Bayla?” I bite out, covering my face with my hands.
“Wow, the full name is out. This is a crisis.”
“No shit it’s a crisis. I’m calling you from a closet ,” I whisper louder, and when she laughs on the other end, I can’t help but join. I get half a second of happiness before my laugh turns into a quiet sob.
“Are you crying ?”
“Yes.” My cry turns into a laugh now because it’s honestly funny that I’m falling apart so badly. My life is a fucking joke.
“I’ve been forcing myself to stay here all day because I know I’m going to relapse if I leave. It’s so bad.” I look around Jackson’s guest room closet as I wipe my tears. The last few days I’ve been keeping myself around company, alternating between my siblings and Bay.
Jackson and I agreed I’d continue to only come over on tutoring days, not wanting to confuse his daughter, but while our tutoring session ended a while ago, I’m afraid of what I’ll do if I leave the safety of these four walls.
“Have you gone to a meeting?” Bay asks and I can hear the sincerity in her voice now.
“I got in my car to go, then I saw the water bottle full of vodka in my cup holder and literally ran back inside Jackson’s house. I actually have something to lose now if I fuck up, but a part of me doesn’t care. Doesn’t that sound bad?”
I bite at my cuticles until a copper taste fills my mouth.
“I’m going to skip past the lecture about having liquor in your car and assume you have that to sit in your car and drink. Not drink and drive.”
I roll my eyes at her. “I’m an alcoholic, not a horrible person. Of course, I wasn’t drunk driving.” I let out a frustrated breath as I rest my head against the wall.
“I think it’s amazing that you have something to lose now. It means you have something to fight for.”
“But I don’t want to fight,” I whisper again.
“You think you don’t,” she reassures me. “It’ll be easier to self-sabotage and give in to the voices. It’s a phase, Lis, you know this. You have to fight past it and when it’s gone, you’ll realize why we fight.”
I shake my head at her although she can’t see me. “When I arrived today, he was doing a face mask with his daughter. A pink one.”
She’s quiet for a beat. “Okay, why are you saying that like it’s a crime?”
“Because I don’t deserve a man who does face masks and spa days with his five-year-old.”
“Okay, so I’m actually not going to listen to the self-pity, I don’t deserve him, sobs,” she says, her voice dripping in faux cheeriness. “Literally cry about it. You deserve him and I’m not going to waste my phone battery convincing you of that. I forgot my charger at home.”
“Fuck you.” A bitter laugh escapes me but the weight in my chest only intensifies, yelling at me that I shouldn’t be happy.
“You need to keep yourself busy, Lis.”
“I have been ,” I force out. “I’m snapping a stupid rubber band on my wrist so I don’t slit my fucking thighs. I’m swimming more than Micheal Phelps has ever swam, and I’m finally using my gym membership and working out, desperately trying to tire myself out so I can sleep rather than think of getting high. I’m. Burnt. Out .”
“When you think you’re burnt out you still have another mile.”
“I just need one drink.” My voice is barely audible now as I bury my face in my hands.
“It’s never just one drink. You know that.”
“I swear it’ll be one.”
“Lisette,” she deadpans and she sounds worried now. “We don’t get the luxury of one drink.”
She waits for my response, but I don’t give her one as my mind yells at me that one won’t hurt anyone. I know it won’t. I take one drink and the world is going to keep spinning.
“Call your brother,” Bay rushes out. “Right now, call him while I’m on the line with you.”
“No.” If I call Sire, he’ll help. I don’t want help. I want a drink.
“Yes, Lisette. Call him.”
“I’m fine,” I lie, and when the tears stop, I know I made up my mind. “You’re right, I have another mile.” I rise from the floor before stepping out of the closet.
“Go get rid of the bottle in your car. I’ll stay on the phone.”
I nod to myself as I walk downstairs. With both Jackson and Isabelle taking a nap, the house is so quiet. I try to keep it that way as I tread lightly for the front door.
The walk down the driveway feels like those illusion hallways that get longer with every step you take. Dread pulls at the pit of my stomach with every move I make. When I finally reach my car, my vision is blurred.
“You there?” she asks.
I hum in response, not trusting my voice. Grabbing the bottle, I twist the cap off and my heart races in excitement.
“Just dump it on the side of the road. The ants will appreciate it.”
My brain doesn’t compute her words as I bring the bottle to my lips and take a slow swig. A burn courses through me followed by relief.
I let out a tired breath as I pull the bottle away and close the cap.
“Is it gone?” she asks.
I swallow the bitter taste in my mouth before lying. “Yeah, thanks, Bay.”
She says something I don’t fully grasp before hanging up.
I keep my eyes on the bottle, and I know I said I’d only take one drink, but technically that was one sip. The bottle is half empty, I’ll just finish it and start with a clear mind tomorrow.