Chapter 8 #3
One of the family’s longtime friends waved at Drea’s parents, and they started in that direction before her mother turned. “Please behave, Drea.” The disdain in her voice mixed with the disappointment in her eyes had been Drea’s constant companion.
Drea raised her glass to them, then finished it off.
She returned her attention to the bartender and held her glass up to signal another.
If she had to be here physically, she might as well escape mentally.
She had wasted so many years at her parents’ bullshit events.
For charity. For image. For status. Drea couldn’t care less about those last two.
And that was the crux of the problem. Though her parents both had noble professions as doctors, they got lost in the grandstanding, always needing to throw the best party, invite the wealthiest guests.
Drea never fit in. She cared about authenticity and art, about expression.
And her parents rejected everything that was authentic to her.
Her career choice, her hobbies, and definitely her lifestyle.
She had gotten used to the disappointment she inspired in them, though it had been lonely for more years than she cared to remember, but now, deep down, it felt right.
Not fitting in. Not pleasing them. They weren’t her people.
Family was much deeper than shared biology.
The bartender handed Drea her drink and she took a sip, letting the burn chase away her thoughts.
At least alcohol made these events slightly more tolerable.
A woman in a merlot sleeveless dress accentuating all the right spots and lipstick to match stood at the end of the bar.
She held a mask in front of her eyes and smiled at Drea.
Drea took another sip, then turned more fully to the masked woman, holding her gaze for a long moment, before a slow smile spread across her lips. Even better.
Drea woke up with a gasp. She glanced around the dark room, realized she was in her bed, and tried to slow her breathing.
She turned to see the woman from the gala asleep next to her.
Without disturbing her, she slid out of bed and tiptoed down to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and the bottle of whiskey from the cupboard, before heading out onto the balcony.
The chilly, late-night air hung around her and she glanced up at the full moon illuminating the river below.
She poured herself a glass and sipped, closing her eyes, waiting for the burn to steady her pulse.
Even a night with a beautiful woman hadn’t quelled the demons.
They never did. Drea tried to steady herself after the nightmare that always seemed to surface when she was overly tired or stressed.
Apparently, even a carefree romp with a stranger didn’t make up for the stress of a night back with the fam. Drea groaned to herself.
As always, the nightmares revolved around her late friend, Anna.
It had been several years since Sam’s partner had died suddenly in front of her.
That first year after losing Anna, Drea frequently had nightmares reliving that tragedy.
And while the nightmares lessened in frequency over time, the intensity never diminished.
The recurring nightmare was always the same.
Anna was normal, happy, full of life, then suddenly dropped to the floor, her life gone in an instant.
Drea’s role in this scenario always had her trying to change history, to get to Anna before she died, but the nightmare never changed.
Anna disappeared before her eyes and there was nothing she could do to save her.
Drea never told Sam or anyone about the nightmares.
Sam lived her own hell the first few years, and then finally found happiness with Ash.
Drea would never do anything to encourage her to relive Anna’s death.
Though Sam never actually saw what Drea had been unfortunate enough to witness, both Sam and Drea knew Anna hadn’t suffered.
But reliving that horror over and over was something Drea wouldn’t wish on anyone.
As Drea’s heart rate slowed, an image of Cassie smiling popped into her mind.
She was glad that helping Cassie with the event planning after work was slowly starting to bring back the smiling Cassie she knew.
It had only been a few evenings together, but the light seemed to have returned to Cassie’s eyes and she was more upbeat at work.
The more time Drea spent with Cassie, the more she wanted to know about her, which was not a common thought for her.
She still wasn’t sure what to make of that.
So, as usual, she avoided it. Drea rubbed her face as if that might make her thoughts disappear.
When that didn’t work, she turned to something more effective.
She swallowed the rest of the whiskey, took a deep breath and one last look at the water dancing under the moonlight, and headed back to her guest.