Chapter 36 Aspen
Aspen
How am I supposed to function? How am I going to continue to live?
With Genevieve gone, half of my heart is gone.
I feel empty. The air I breathe starts to feel thin and I realize I don’t know what to do without her.
Genevieve was a dream I never thought I’d touch.
Now she’s gone and I’m wide awake in a nightmare. What do I do?
Watching her leave was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do.
My chest felt hollow, like I’d carved out my own ribs.
She left without letting me explain. If she’d just let me speak, just for a second, I would’ve told her, that I quit.
That I kept that bag as a reminder of what I walked away from.
For her. It was the last one I had and I didn’t want to use it.
I didn’t want to give myself that satisfaction.
She just wouldn’t hear me out. I honestly don’t blame her, but still, I wish she would have given me a moment of her time so I could explain, then none of this would be happening.
Instead, I now face the potential to lose her, and that’s the last thing I want.
I should’ve told her from the start. I should’ve looked her in the eye and said it: I’m an addict.
Just like your dad, but I’m trying to be better.
I want to be better. For you. Maybe she would have appreciated me coming to her and recognizing my sickness and admired my willingness to change.
But instead I assumed the worst, that she wouldn’t understand, and instead I never even gave her a chance to understand.
Besides all of this happening, I have to leave for work. As much as I don’t want to, I have to pay the bills. Plus I have to tell Raul that his favorite cook won’t be in today. He’s going to be so pissed.
I drive over to the resort and walk straight to the bar area where I’m hoping to catch Raul, and sure enough, he’s putting down the chairs in the bar to get ready for guests. I walk up to him nervous, but on a mission. I just have to rip the bandaid off.
“Hey boss,” I tell him, trying to hide the nervousness in my voice.
“Hey, where’s Gen?” He asks immediately. I love how he’s more concerned for her than me. He doesn’t know that my heart is currently broken into a million pieces and that she took half of it with her back to Nebraska.
“She left,” I say choking on it, like the words taste wrong.
“She left where?” He asks, hoping that I tell him to go to the bathroom, but unfortunately for both of us that’s not the case.
“She left back home. We got into a fight” I tell him.
He remains quiet, letting the information I just gave him sink in.
“I see,” he says. He takes a seat in the chair he had just taken off the table. His head is hung low and he honestly looks just as defeated as I am.
Raul gets up from where he’s at after a minute and goes behind the bar. I watch him, nervous for his next move. He grabs two glasses and fills them both up with bourbon. He nods towards one of the glasses silently telling me to grab one.
I do as he says and we both raise our glasses towards each other, then shoot back the burning liquid.
“Are you okay?” He asks after swallowing the liquid.
I shouldn’t be surprised he’s not angry. I should’ve known that Raul values my feelings more than losing an employee and having to pick up the slack. He’s always treated me like a son. I don’t deserve his kindness. I’ve lost him a great replacement employee at least until Derek comes back tomorrow.
“No,” I admit. “But I’m hoping I will be.” I set the glass cup on the table and he fills me up again without pause. I shoot back another shot before he speaks again.
“Look, Conner has been handling the classes alone since before you joined him so I think he can handle a day by himself. Help me in the kitchen area this way you can just be in the back and don’t have to talk to anyone,” he tells me, a sense of relief washes over me.
“You know sometimes you are just so sweet I forget about all the times you can be a complete dick,” I tell him.
He laughs. “Take the bottle. Drink your sorrows away, just serve them something edible, please. God knows I can’t.”
“You got it boss,” I tell him, grabbing the quarter empty bottle and my glass from the counter.
I can’t thank Raul enough for being as understanding as he is. I know it can’t be easy turning a blind eye once in a while for me. I love him for it though.
I walk around the bar top and head back to the spotless kitchen Genevieve has spent the last two days working at. She must have picked up and organized while she was back here.
It looks great.
I picture her standing here just two days ago, smirking with a spatula in one hand and a bun in the other, telling Raul she thought his burgers would give the resort food poisoning. She laughed so hard her eyes crinkled, then turned around and looked at me like I was the only person in the room.
That laugh—God, that laugh. It stuck in my ribs, like it wanted to live there.
How am I ever going to forget about her?
I have no idea how to cook anything except the basic stuff on the menu and lucky for me, Genevieve already prepared all of the beef patties for today.
All I have to do is put the patties on the stove top and assemble the rest. I can just imagine this is going to be a long day.
A day I hope I never have to relive again.
This is exactly why I tried to never fall in love. It never works out.
***
A few hours into my shift and I’m nearly shit faced.
I need to sober up if I’m going to make it home.
Or I can continue to drown out my sorrows and just ask Everest for a ride.
My thoughts are interrupted when Raul sticks his head in the back and says, “Aspen, a customer just told me her meat wasn’t cooked enough.
Step it up boy, don’t make me take that bottle away from you,” he warns.
“Sorry boss, I’ll do better,” I slightly slur and salute him off with two fingers.
My life is depressing. I look like a mess, I feel like a mess, and the food I’m making probably tastes like shit. I’m having withdrawals, but not from cocaine, from Genevieve. She is the new drug I have now addicted myself to. Without her I can’t live.
Drug.
Live.
I can’t help my emotions.
Before I lose my train of thought, I grab one of the sheets of paper Raul gave me with an order written on and begin writing on the back of it.
I’m having withdrawals
She’s my drug,
I’ve become addicted.
It’s too late now,
I’m feeling conflicted.
Do I go after her?
No.
Yes?
I don’t know.
All I know,
Is I miss her and I need a bump of her,
before I lose strength.
A tear rolls down the side of my cheek when I place the pencil down. Fuck. What have I done? I used to tell myself I wasn’t like him, that I’d never screw it up like he did. But here I am—same story, same ending. Different name. The same way my dad lost my mom.
To drugs.
I thought I was different, but I’m not. I’m exactly the same as him. Something I’ve been trying to avoid my whole life, I didn’t realize I already was.
When did I become my father?
And how do I stop?