Chapter 34
34
MALCOLM
I t feels like the alarm goes off five minutes after I collapsed into bed last night after getting home from work. For the first time in weeks, I’m waking up alone after staying with Ophelia at her place—or her staying with me—ever since her deadbeat ex-fiancé was hauled off by the cops. After several arguments of her telling me she didn’t need them, she agreed to allow Kolbi to install cameras outside her door and in the hallway of her building that link directly to his team in case Jarrett ever comes back. And with the encouragement of Bailey, she filed for a restraining order against him too. She might not be concerned about him coming back, but I’m not going to risk it.
I’ve already lost one person this year and I’m not going to lose another.
Knowing I need to get up if I want to make it to training and then to the bar on time, I drag my ass out of bed and head for the bathroom to shower and get ready. As the hot water creates steam around me, my eyes close and I feel myself starting to doze off—the exhaustion of the last two and a half months pressing squarely on the backs of my eyes and the only relief coming from finally letting them rest. I don’t have time for rest though, I have a legacy to uphold. People to make proud. A woman to take care of.
After scrubbing my body and washing my hair, I step out of the shower to dry off before wrapping the towel around my waist as I stand in front of the small vanity. Looking at myself, I start to notice some of the subtle changes in my face. My eyes are heavy with developing dark circles under them that never seem to dissolve. My skin looks like it has been faded by the Charleston sun and my hair is finer and coarser than it naturally is. Stress will do that to you , I think to myself.
So will never living up to the exceptionally high expectations the people in your life have for you, I hear another voice say condescendingly. You’re not doing enough. You’re not enough. You’re failing them just like you failed your parents. Once a failure, always a failure. Marshall would be so disappointed in you.
The voice continues to mock me as I brush my teeth, shave, and pull my hair back, tying it behind my head. I’m about to leave to go and throw on some clothes to workout when I hear it again.
Forgetting something? You’re going to need it, remember? The only way to make it through the day is with it. It’s the only thing keeping your life together right now.
My hands find the edge of the sink and the pads of my fingers squeeze the porcelain edge so hard I’m convinced it’s going to crack. The reasonable side of my brain, the side that knows better, is screaming at me to walk away. That I don’t need it. That I’ll be okay without it. But everyone’s been noticing how well I’ve been doing, how light I’ve seemed. They are proud of me.
And I don’t want to disappoint them.
I squat down and open the bottom drawer beneath the sink and pull out a small, nondescript cardboard box that’s hidden in the back of it. Opening it up, I pull out the plastic bag that holds two orange innocent looking pills.
One a day. That’s it. Never more. I can handle one a day. Just one won’t hurt.
Looking at how few I have, I make a note that I’ll have to get more this weekend. I know people from back when I relied on them years ago that had given me a new hookup when I needed it after losing Marshall. And I’ve been fine since then.
It’s only one a day.
I dump a pill into the palm of my head and quickly throw it back before the shame and guilt I feel for my dependence on it takes over. It’s just one. It’s no big deal. I can stop whenever I want.
Once it’s swallowed, I throw the bag back into the box, close it up, and walk away from my stash as if nothing happened at all.
* * *
I’m sitting in the office at Butcher and Block, going over payroll, and looking at our numbers for the week when my phone buzzes. I reach for it and see that the group chat with my friends has ignited.
3 New Message: Dungeons and Dickheads
Kolbi:
I’ve asked Magnolia to marry me and she’s said yes.
There’s a photo following the text with him bent down behind her, kissing her cheek, and her holding up her left hand that now adorns a massive diamond on her ring finger.
Hank:
Congratulations man! Bailey just screamed from our bedroom, I’m going to assume Magnolia just texted her the news.
Connie:
Oh good, another suit to buy.
I rolled my eyes at Conrad’s text but Hank gets to him before I can.
Hank:
Conrad please for once resemble anything close to a human and show some emotion. You might be the Tinman but I know you have a heart in there somewhere.
Connie:
What?! I’m excited for you Kolbi. That’s great, I’m just simply pointing out that I’ll have to get another suit. I’m assuming this will be a big production, knowing your bride to be.
Hey congratulations Kolb. I’m really happy for you.
Kolbi:
Thanks man, we’re really excited.
And no, it won’t be a big production. We’ve actually decided to elope. This weekend. And you’re all coming, no arguments. I chartered a plane that leaves tomorrow and our ceremony will be held at the lodge we stayed at last year when we went to Aspen. Everything’s been arranged and paid for. Just come ready to celebrate.
Hank:
Tomorrow?! What about work?
Oh nevermind I see the office is closed, just got the email. Fuck yeah.
Connie:
I’ll let my boss know I’ll be out of office for the day.
My eyes roll for a second time at Conrad’s lame excuse for a joke seeing as how he works for himself. I feel my insides flip when I realize I’m going to have to be away from the bar for the entire weekend but this is my best friend’s wedding—missing it isn’t an option.
I’ll be there. Alice can handle things here for the weekend.
Kolbi:
Yeah, sorry it’s all so last minute man but honestly, you need a break anyway. You’ve been working yourself like a dog recently. This will be good for you.
I know he’s right, but all the same, being away from the bar that long makes the knots in my shoulders tighten. I was about to get back to work when my phone buzzes again with another text from Kolbi.
Kolbi:
And Malcolm, we hope Ophelia will be joining you.
* * *
The ceremony is small and intimate and includes the strange, rag tag team of people I call family, Ophelia, and Ms. Ruthie. As promised, Kolbi flew us all on a private jet, and he and Magnolia were married at the top of the ski resort he had brought her to during a private getaway trip they’d taken together. When I called Ophelia to tell her about the trip, she seemed excited to be invited. I could hear her barking out orders to her assistant Dale that he would have to cancel her Friday meetings since she had somewhere important to be. Her assertiveness is one of the many things I love about her, but the thing I love the most is how she prioritizes the important people in her life. As I watch Kolbi say his vows and dance with his new wife for the first time, my brain wonders if she will ever let me love her in the same way. She has her reasons to not want marriage and I’m okay with that. But will we ever get to the point where I can call her mine forever?
Only if you’re able to man the fuck up and provide for her like she needs you to. Right now you’re doing a pretty piss poor job of that though. I tuck my chin into my shoulder and try to shake the voice loose.
When my eyes open, I find her brown eyes looking back at me and a smile spread across her lips. We’re sitting at a long mahogany table with everyone having a post-ceremony dinner to celebrate the bride and groom. Her arm is resting on my shoulder and she’s running her fingers through my hair which is clean and falling around my shoulders. I’ve subconsciously synced my breath with the rhythm of her hand running its way over my scalp and find as much peace as I can in the feeling of her touch.
Yesterday when I woke up, I took the last pill I had in my possession and texted my guy to see if I could get more from him before leaving for the weekend, but as luck would have it, he wasn’t able to get me any more until Monday night. I told myself I would be fine without it but as I get closer to twenty-four hours without a fix, I can feel the itch getting more and more desperate to be scratched.
You could go and find some here, you know. I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard.
No. I’m not risking that. Not here, not now. This weekend is about Kolbi and my friends and I’m not going to go and fuck that up.
I push out a deep breath and try to relax. We go home tomorrow and then it’s just one more day after that.
“Hey,” Ophelia says, leaning closer so it’s just the two of us who can hear our conversation. “You okay?”
“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I’m just tired from the time change. It’s like, midnight at home, you know.”
She chuckles a little in disbelief. “Yeah, and? That’s usually when you’re getting back from the bar. You should have another hour or two in you.”
“I guess it’s just the travel and the time change. I’m worried about the bar.” I try to come up with any excuse for my strained energy levels that I think she might actually believe.
She turns to me fully now and tucks her hands into mine. “Malcolm, Alice promised you she would take care of the place. You haven’t heard anything which is a good thing . Please just let your mind relax while we’re here. We go home tomorrow and then you can worry again, okay?”
“I know, I’m trying.” I place a hand on her cheek and smile at her warily. “Thanks for looking out for me.”
She leans in and plants a kiss on my cheek. “I care about you, Malcolm. I want you to care about yourself as much as I do.”
“Hey!” Kolbi calls out from the end of the table and we both turn to look at him. He and Magnolia are sharing an oversized armchair that the restaurant brought over just for them. “No kissing at the table, this is my wedding night. The only ones kissing should be me and my wife.” The table erupts in laughter and cheers as the two of them kiss.
I try to laugh along with them so as to not raise suspicion and while it might sound authentic, it feels artificial. As hard as I’m trying to be in the moment—with her, with them—my mind and body are hyper fixated on the desperate need for my next hit.
This is what drugs do to you. They whisper into your ear begging you to give them a chance. Just one time, you’ll be fine. But in that one time, that one chance, they sink their hooks into you and never let you go. And slowly, one hit after another, they drag you down further and further into the darkness until you’re so far in that you can’t find your way out.
I knew this already. I’ve learned this lesson before.
But yet, here I am again. Feeling myself sinking farther and farther into the darkness and spending my days waiting for the release that follows a swallow instead of being able to focus on the big moments that are happening around me.
And the reality of that truth makes me feel even more like a giant fucking failure.