Chapter 38 Roman
THIRTY-EIGHT
ROMAN
Iwoke in the morning with the worst hangover I’d ever had. It felt like my brain was pounding against my skull. My stomach was doing flips, causing my mouth to water with the urge to vomit.
I couldn’t even remember the last time I vomited from drinking, but I knew it was coming.
I rolled off the couch and landed on the floor with a thud.
This only made my head pound harder while my stomach cramped with the urge to empty.
I was dizzy and felt like I was dying, but pushed myself onto my hands and knees before moving as quickly as possible to the bathroom.
I bounced off the walls the entire way. I stumbled and fell in front of the toilet, opening the lid just in the nick of time to lean forward and puke up the yellowish-brown liquid.
My stomach rolled, and I gagged, spewing again. The sight, the smell, it was enough to make me sick. I flushed and puked again, the noise and smell of the water only making me wish I were dead.
I guessed that I was getting what I deserved.
I tried to think back to the night before, wondering why I’d done this to myself.
All I could get were flashes. Being at the country club with Casey.
Seeing Sasha and kissing Casey, and seeing the hurt and pain on Sasha’s face.
The look on her face felt like a punch to my gut that had me puking once again.
I remembered coming home and grabbing the bottle of bourbon.
I even remembered taking the plastic seal off the bottle’s neck.
I wondered how much was left, but I couldn’t leave the toilet long enough to see.
I gagged until my stomach muscles and chest hurt, and I had nothing left to remove from my body.
Then I fell back onto the cold bathroom floor, which helped to cool my clammy body.
My phone beeped from inside my pants pocket.
I was still fully dressed. Shoes, pants, and a shirt, even though I’d lost my jacket and tie somewhere.
I pulled out my phone to see I’d missed a bunch of texts from Monica.
MONICA: What the fuck is wrong with you? Am I the only employee you never fucked?
I rolled my eyes. Just what I needed. Her to find out about Sasha and me. It didn’t matter because it was over.
MONICA: You know she’s gone, right? She quit. I’m here with your daughter.
My eyes nearly bugged from my skull.
Sasha quit?
Of course she did. If I were her, I would’ve quit too. She didn’t want to stick around and watch me be miserable, fucking every woman within sight, except for the one I really wanted: her.
MONICA: She loves you, Roman. And I think that you love her too. I can only imagine what you must be feeling. You think you deserve to be miserable, but you don’t. You deserve to be happy. Stop standing in your own way and just let yourself be happy. Let yourself move on with her.
She deserved to be happy.
I didn’t.
I broke every rule. I ripped away her innocence, and I didn’t have a second thought about it. I ruined her. I broke her. She gave and gave and gave. All I did was take, take, take. She should move on, leave me in the past.
I do deserve to be miserable.
My phone vibrated, and I lifted it to view the screen.
MONICA: I can see the read receipts. I know you’re reading my messages. Get off your ass and find her! Bring her back!
I shook my head.
ROMAN: Call in a temp service and dig up a stack of nanny applications.
MONICA: Are you serious? You’re just going to let her walk away?
ROMAN: Yes, she deserves to be happy, and all I’m going to do is fuck up and make her as miserable as I am.
I dropped the phone onto my chest, my heart feeling as if it were shattering. Tears stung my eyes, and a lump formed in my throat.
I squeezed my eyes shut, causing the tears to roll down my cheeks.
The sickness hadn’t eased, but the anger I was feeling was stronger than all else.
I used it to push myself up off the floor.
I placed my hands on the counter and leaned against it as I looked at my glassy, bloodshot eyes in the mirror.
I had dark circles beneath my eyes, my cheeks seemed more hollow than before, and my skin had a green undertone to it that made me look sicker than I felt. I hung my head and closed my eyes as a pain sliced through my chest.
I’d been living for many years with my heart slowly dying in my chest. I didn’t think it could get any worse, but I was wrong. Losing Chloe was something I’d never get over.
Everywhere I looked, I’d always feel her absence.
I’d always love her and miss her. I’d always wish she were around for any major life event Sophia goes through.
But giving up on Sasha caused my pain to double.
Once you get used to pain, your baseline changes.
Even though I was hurt, I was used to it, but adding a little more pressure made me feel like I had an elephant sitting on my chest. And all I could do was get used to it, let my baseline move until the new pain became nothing but numbness.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly before turning for the shower. I didn’t know how I was going to move on; all I knew was that I had to.
And much like after I lost Chloe, I couldn’t even think of another woman. I didn’t want company. I didn’t want sex. All I wanted was enough liquor to drown in. I wanted to sleep. I wanted her, but I also wanted her off my mind.
Weeks passed, but nothing really changed, and it made me wonder how long this shit would go on.
Every morning, I woke with her on my mind.
Even as I spent my day at work, she was always there, waiting in the background.
She’d pop up the moment I had a second that wasn’t already occupied.
Sometimes, she demanded my attention in the middle of whatever I was doing.
At night, I’d go home, spend some time with my daughter, then I’d drink until I was passed out—far too drunk to dream.
I wasn’t living. I was surviving.
Winter had been turned on full blast. The ground froze, and there was no escaping the bitter chill in the air.
I shivered as I stood in my office and looked down on the city below, watching as fat snowflakes and raindrops swirled throughout the air.
The sky was spitting snow, but it was too cold.
The rain froze before it even hit the ground, leaving patches of black ice everywhere.
“Roman, are you ready for this meeting?” Monica asked from behind me.
“Yeah, I’m coming.” I tore my eyes away from the dark sky and snow and followed her from the room.
“Mr. De Luca,” I greeted the man dressed in a black designer suit as I entered the conference room with my hand extended to shake.
He stood from the table and shook my hand with a firm grasp. “It’s good to see you.”
I breathed out. He was dark. Powerful. The sort of man you didn’t fuck with. He didn’t even need to open his mouth to tell me. His presence oozed it.
“Please, have a seat.” I motioned toward his chair as I sat down in mine. “Can we get you anything to drink? Coffee, tea, water?”
He lifted his hand to show me his palm, with rings on every finger, as a means to stop me from asking.
Lorenzo De Luca was a big deal in this city. Hell, in the world. The fact that he was asking for a meeting with me had my heart racing.
“No, thank you.” He looked around, his dark eyes taking everything in. He was the head of Rustic Rifles, and if the rumors were true, he was a mafia don people didn’t fuck with. “It’s awfully quiet around here today. Everything alright?”
“Everything is fine. Most of the employees are working remotely today due to the weather.”
He glanced out of the window. “This cold front is rough. I think there’s an inch of ice on the roads. Makes commuting dangerous. I’m glad to see you’re the kind of boss that considers your employees’ safety, no matter the cost.”
I clenched my jaw and swallowed over the lump in my throat. “I lost my wife to a car accident. The roads were bad. A drunk hit her. I know how hard that is, and I want to take every precaution to make sure none of my employees ever have to go through that. If I can help it, of course.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Not that it matters, but my wife is dead too.”
I widened my eyes at him. “You’re… young.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t say I was sad she was gone. Some things don’t matter enough to mourn.” He rapped his tatted knuckles on the table.
Well, shit. That was definitely not a bag I wanted to look into.
“The reason I requested the meeting was that I understand you have some incredible programming and tech skills. I want to utilize those skills in some of the new weapons we’re developing. I think your brand of tech is exactly what Rustic Rifles needs for our next step.”
I breathed out. This would be one hell of a deal.
“I’m interested,” I said immediately. Taking a deal like this would definitely keep my mind off my shitty life. I could pour myself into it, working on it directly.
“Perfect. I’ll have my guys contact your guys. Sound good?” He rose to his impressive height and held out his hand.
“Absolutely. I look forward to it,” I said. “We should have dinner sometime to discuss it further.”
Monica walked into the room before Lorenzo could answer me. “Roman, you have a call on line one.”
I frowned at her. “Hold my calls, please. I’m busy here.” I looked at her with annoyance and surprise. She knew how important my meeting was.
“This is an emergency.” She lifted her brows, and her eyes widened.
I took a deep breath, my hands shaking as my mind vaulted to something being wrong with Sophia.
“Please, excuse me.”
“Of course. I need to be on my way anyway, so we will talk soon.” He pushed a business card into my hand. “Reach out for anything, including that dinner. Have a good day, Roman.”
I bid him goodbye before I made my way out the door. A secretary was sitting at the desk outside the conference room, and when I exited the room, she held the phone up for me to take.