Chapter 20 Roman
TWENTY
ROMAN
Istormed into my office and slammed the door shut behind me.
I crossed the room in seconds and was drinking directly from the whiskey bottle before I knew it.
No matter how much I swallowed, it didn’t take away the pain I was feeling.
No matter what I did, my wife was gone, I was alone, and my daughter didn’t know what it was like to have a mother or even a fucking father.
Every bit of that hurt something fierce.
I thought I was doing the right thing. I came home for dinner and was even attempting to eat at the same table as my daughter. No matter what I did, I was constantly reminded of her loss.
I needed to talk to Sasha about the night before, too, but I hadn’t found the time or the right words to do so. Maybe it didn’t mean anything to her. Maybe she just wanted someone to stay with her while she was unwell. Maybe I was the only one who thought it was something more.
It didn’t matter anyway. I needed to keep my distance.
I needed to start staying at the apartment that was closer to the office.
I thought it would make things better for everyone.
Sasha wouldn’t have to put up with me, and Sophia would have a sense of normalcy with just her and Sasha together.
She wouldn’t have me walking in and out of her life every few days.
I took another swig and moved to sit behind my desk. I didn’t feel like being in public, but I didn’t like being stuck at home either. What was one to do when you always wanted to go but you never wanted to stay?
It didn’t matter where I went; I couldn’t get away from myself. Maybe that’s what I really needed. I wasn’t trying to forget my wife. I wasn’t trying to ignore my daughter. I was trying to escape my own thoughts.
I guessed that’s where the alcohol came into play. It numbed my body while quieting my mind. If I couldn’t get away from myself, I could, at least, shut the fucker up for a little while.
I lost track of time, doing nothing but drinking and burying myself in emails. I had a good buzz going by the time I wheeled away from the computer. My eyes were burning from staring at the screen for too long, and my back ached from not moving.
I rubbed my eyes, took a deep breath, and started toward the door. With as late as it was, I figured everyone would be in bed, and I could easily move throughout the place without bothering anyone.
When I opened the door, I saw the light was still on, and when I stopped to listen, I could hear the TV’s soft murmur.
I stepped out of my office and walked to the living room quietly.
Peeking around the corner, I found Sasha and Sophia curled up together on the couch; both of them must have fallen asleep while watching TV.
I crossed my arms over my chest as I leaned against the doorframe to watch them.
Sophia was in front of Sasha, and Sasha had her arm thrown over Sophia.
She looked so sweet, innocent, and content.
I couldn’t help but think about how this would be a more common occurrence if Chloe were still with us.
I wished I had gotten to see the two of them together, but I knew I never would.
I walked closer, stopping just a foot away and looking down on them. Sophia was ready for bed in her nightgown. Her hair looked damp like she’d already taken a bath, and she was fast asleep with her bottom lip pooched out.
She was nothing short of amazing, adorable, and breathtaking.
I wished I could’ve been the father she needed, but I knew I was nothing but a disappointment, even if she didn’t have the words to tell me.
I figured that would come with time. Once she got older, she’d make sure I knew how much I fucked up her life, and she’d leave me, too.
Maybe that was another reason I wanted to keep her at arm’s length.
She’d leave one day. If we never got close, it couldn’t hurt that much to watch her go.
I bent down and scooped her up. She nuzzled closer to me as I carried her through the house and to her bedroom. I gently laid her down, and then I pulled the blankets up around her.
Her eyelids flickered and then opened.
“I love you, Daddy,” she said softly.
It felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. I had done everything wrong, and yet, she still loved me.
“I love you too, princess.” I kissed her forehead, inhaling her scent as I held my lips to her skin. “Get some sleep.”
I pulled back and watched as she rolled to her side, nuzzled into her pillow, and closed her eyes. I slowly backed out of the room, pulling the door shut to keep from disturbing her.
Back in the living room, I debated whether to wake Sasha. She hadn’t moved since I’d taken Sophia from her. She looked warm and comfortable before, but with Sophia gone, she looked cold and lonely.
I probably should have left her. She wasn’t my responsibility, and there wasn’t anything wrong with her sleeping a night on the couch, but I couldn’t walk away.
I couldn’t bear to think of her being cold or uncomfortable.
I didn’t want her to wake in the middle of the night, confused about where she was or how she got there.
I didn’t want her to wake in a panic, either, once she realized that Sophia was no longer with her.
I took the remote and shut off the TV, then I scooped her up. I was halfway to her room when her eyes opened.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a sleepy murmur, not seeming like she was bothered by my carrying her.
“I’m taking you to bed.”
“Sophia,” she started, lifting her head from my arm like she was going to look around for her.
“I already put her in bed. She’s fine.”
She let out a sigh of relief and let her head fall back to my shoulder.
“Not that I’m complaining, but why are you carrying me? Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I wanted you to get a good night’s sleep. Taking care of a kid is hard work, plus you have me, the house, and your own life to take care of.” I entered her room and placed her on the bed. I turned to leave, but her question had me turning back to her.
“Why’d you leave?”
“What?”
“This morning. Why’d you leave?” Her voice shook.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she looked upset that I’d left her in bed alone.
Her brows were knitted together, causing two small lines to form between them.
Her green eyes were slightly bloodshot and glassy from sleep, but they held a depth I was afraid to explore.
It felt like the air in the room had grown warmer, but then I realized that the temperature difference wasn’t in the room; it was in my body.
My heart was beating faster, and the blood that was rushing around had grown warm due to the way she made me feel.
It was something I didn’t understand myself.
The way she was looking at me… it was like she looked up to me, like she trusted me, like she… wanted me.
Was that why she wanted me to get into bed with her the night before, or was I misreading every signal she threw my way?
I told myself it was the alcohol. It had to be.
There was no way she wanted me. It just didn’t make sense.
She was young, beautiful, and had her whole life ahead of her.
She could have any guy she wanted. There was no way she wanted me, some bitter, grumpy man who used to be married to her late sister.
She wanted a younger guy, a guy her own age with whom she had stuff in common.
She and I had nothing in common. At least, not that I knew of.
I guess I didn’t really know her on a personal level.
But that was a good thing. I already wanted her.
Getting to know her would only make that feeling take hold that much stronger.
“I had no reason to stay,” I said, finally answering her question.
“Yes, you did.”
I breathed out. “What reason did I have?”
“I asked you to.”
“You asked me to, so I could take care of you when you were drunk. By the time I got up, the chances of you needing me were gone.”
“I didn’t ask you to stay because I was drunk. I asked you because I needed you.”
“You don’t need me. No one does.” And with that, I turned for the door. “Sweet dreams, Sasha.”
I slipped out of her room and closed the door behind me before she even had time to stop me. I froze outside of her room, slightly breathless. I clenched my jaw and shut my eyes.
You didn’t see what you thought you saw, I told myself. She doesn’t want you. Not like that. Not in the fucked up way you’ve been wanting her. She’s not sick like that. That’s all on me.
It felt like anger ripped through my chest, and my eyes opened as I pushed myself toward my own room.
I needed to get away from her before I could turn around and do something stupid.
It was all just my mind playing tricks on me.
I saw the things I was looking for. I saw the things I wanted to see, even if I did know better.
Inside my room, I closed the door behind me and moved toward the bed to have a seat on the edge.
I opened the drawer on the bedside table and took out the half-empty bottle of bourbon.
I kept it stashed there for emergencies.
I couldn’t even remember the last time I needed to take a drink from bed, but I knew the bottle would be wiped out that night.
I’d have to remember to pick up another for future purposes.
Uncapping it, I brought the bottle to my lips and poured the warm liquid into my mouth.
It only reminded me of the days after Chloe’s passing, when I was so crippled by her loss that I couldn’t get out of bed.
I did nothing but cry. I couldn’t eat or sleep.
I couldn’t get out of bed. That’s when I stopped going to the alcohol and started keeping the alcohol hidden all around me so I could reach for it easily.
I’d always heard that time healed all wounds. I wasn’t sure if it was true, but I did know that a wound deep enough could look healed up on the outside, only to be rotting away with infection just beneath the surface.
And that’s how I felt.
To anyone who didn’t know me, I looked like any other guy.
I was healthy and wealthy, and I had a day job I went to every day.
You’d never guess that I needed to keep alcohol tucked away in every drawer just to make it through the day.
You’d never look at me and think that I was slowly killing myself because I couldn’t get over the loss of my wife.
But for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t drinking over losing her. I wasn’t even drinking to forget the pain I still felt with her being gone. I was drinking to kill the sick urges the monster, instead of me, was demanding I act on.
Memories of Sasha against me flashed in my mind: holding her against me and pretending not to notice when she inhaled my scent and shivered in my arms, when I lifted her foot to take off her shoe and caught a glimpse of her panties beneath her dress, how her hand felt resting on my bare stomach.
I wanted to pin her down and bury my aching cock deep inside her sweet pussy that instant.
My cock came to life from thinking about how good she’d feel quivering around me, hot, tight, and writhing in pain from me popping her cherry.
I brought the bottle back to my lips and sucked down some more bourbon, praying that the faster I got it in, the sooner the beast would quiet. He was strong and wasn’t relenting. Instead of giving up, he fought harder, sending me mental images that seared themselves into my brain.
I saw myself with my hands wrapped around her throat as I fucked her from behind. In the next second, I saw her watery eyes roll back as she choked on my cock that I had buried in her throat.
“Fuck me,” I muttered, attempting to shake my head free of the images.
Shaking my head after chugging several shots only made me dizzy, though. It didn’t stop my imagination or the need that had been consuming me. I wondered how her blushing pussy tasted, swollen and dripping with arousal.
I imagined sucking on her clit as she shook with pleasure.
Something told me that she’d be insatiable once she learned what she’d been missing.
I bet she was the kind who would slide her panties to the side just so she could get fucked as fast as possible, the kind that didn’t even care if she got off or not, as long as she had someone moving inside her.
“Fuck it,” I said, pushing myself up from the bed.
Keeping the bottle of booze in my hand, I moved into the bathroom and stripped down for a shower.
As the space filled with steam, I had a seat on the bench.
The bottle in one hand, my cock in the other.
I rested my head back against the wall and closed my eyes as I started working myself from root to tip.
Every inch began to tingle as I imagined her walking into my bathroom, finding me jacking off, and stripping down to join me.
I wet my lips before pulling her onto my lap.
She’d straddle me as I buried my tongue in her throat.
I’d use my fingers at first, making sure she was nice and stretched for me.
Then I’d let her slide down every inch of my cock that she could handle, slowly working more and more into her until she was fully seated.
I let out a soft groan as I came with the image in the forefront of my mind.
My head fell back against the tiles, and I pressed the bottle of alcohol back to my lips.
I really was pretty fucking broken.