Chapter Thirty-Two
Alicia
“You doing okay?” I ask my sister, looking up from the stack of bills I’ve been going through.
After our shower last night, Rowan toweled me off then led me to the bed, instructing me to lay down on my stomach.
I expected him to make some comment about my ass, or use the massage to get handsy, but to my absolute shock and delight, he really did give me a massage.
My body felt like jello afterwards and I just wanted to sleep, but he made me drink a large glass of water to flush the toxins out, and then proceeded to give me a mind-blowing orgasm involving the partially full bottle of rosé from the country club and his tongue.
He wanted me to stay another night, and while the idea was severely tempting, I didn’t want to leave Bridget alone that long, so he dropped me off at home a little bit ago before heading to see Eamon and Teagan.
As much as I want to stay wrapped up in him the entire time he’s here, I know that’s unreasonable for both of us.
“Yeah, why?” She asks quickly, eyes locked on the screen of her phone.
Bridget’s been off ever since I got back, barely interacting with me, and obsessively checking her phone more than usual.
“You seem a little distracted.” I set the papers down. “Something on your mind?”
“No.” She hops from the chair she’s been perched in and heads toward her bedroom.
“Bridget,” I say warily. “What’s going on?”
“Oh my god, Li. Nothing!”
If I wasn’t already suspicious, I definitely am now. Teenage attitude is par for the course these days, but things have been pretty great between us recently, so this feels completely out of left field.
Standing, I take cautious steps in her direction. “Bridge, whatever it is you’re trying to keep me from finding out, I promise I won’t get mad. Just be honest with me. Please?”
She freezes in the hallway and hangs her head. The dark hair, twin to my own, falls to form a curtain around her face.
“Bridget, what’s wrong? I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Li,” she whimpers. “I think I fucked everything up.”
My heart sinks to my stomach. I have no idea what she’s referring to, but unease bubbles within me. I take a couple more steps.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re going to hate me.” Her voice sounds so small and resigned.
“B, I’ll never hate you. No matter what.”
I wait, and just as I’m about to ask again, she turns to face me.
“He said that it would be okay, that it would help us.” I go cold as my sister sobs.
“Who, Bridget?” I ask her hollowly, even though I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.
No. Please God, no.
“Dad.” My eyes squeeze shut as despair courses through my body. “He showed up last night, and I let him in. I don’t know why. Maybe because I stupidly thought he had really changed, and I just wanted some semblance of a normal family.”
“You have to be fucking kidding me,” I snap, and she flinches. “In what world would having him around be considered normal, Bridget?”
I’ve gone from horrified that he was in the same room as her to absolutely livid that she’d fall for his shit after everything. Somewhere along the way, the gentleness I was clinging to slipped from my grasp, all rational thought leaving my head.
“I’m sorry, Li. I’m so, so sorry!” She’s crying fully now, the heels of her hands pressed into her eyes.
“You need to tell me everything right now, or so help me.”
Bridget shuffles her feet and fidgets with the string of her hoodie, still not giving me eye contact.
“I’m waiting.” I bark, folding my arms over my chest.
“He said he needed money to help get him set up here, and then once he had a stable job, he’d pay it all back.
He said he was here to stay and that he wanted us to be a family again.
I didn’t know what else to do, so I…” she stammers before rushing out, “I opened the safe in your closet and gave him the money.”
“You did what?” I choke, hands falling to my sides. My head is swimming, my pulse thrumming in my ears.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers.
“You have no idea how much you just fucked us both over!” I yell, throwing my arms wide.
“That piece of shit is long gone now, and we’ll never see that money again!
Do you know how long I’ve been saving? How hard I’ve worked?
That money was a down payment for a house, Bridget.
And now it’s all gone. What were you thinking? ”
“I don’t know!” She screams back at me. “Is it so bad to want a bigger family? To have someone else to spend my time with rather than you? Not that we spend that much time together anyway, since you’re always working or with Ro!”
“That’s not fair, and you know it.” Hurt spears through me, but I’m so angry.
“I’m doing the best I can, so please cut me some fucking slack!
You think I wanted to become a parent and give up my life?
” I stomp into my bedroom, throw open the closet door, and even though I already know it’s going to be bad, I fall to my knees and punch in the code on the safe.
With a soft beep, the door unlocks and pops open.
It’s all gone. Every last cent is just gone.
I let my butt hit the floor as the weight of what this means washes over me.
I don’t know how long I sit there staring at the empty box, but it’s dark outside of the window, so it was for at least an hour.
Eventually, I close and lock the safe, though I’m not sure why. There’s nothing in it anymore.
I trudge into the living room, noting that there are no lights on, not even a sliver of light from under the crack of Bridget’s door.
Switching on the lamp, I glance around the space until my gaze snags on a piece of paper on the coffee table, my name scribbled onto the front in my sister’s handwriting. Gingerly, I pick it up and unfold it.
A,
You can have your life back. I’ll go find my own.
-B
The note falls from my fingers to the floor.
I need a drink.
* * *
One glass of Scotch ends up being an entire bottle, plus a beer.
I’m so drunk that my body feels numb. Good.
That’s what I was going for. Something other than pain, fear, or extreme sadness.
For once, I don’t want to feel a goddamn thing.
The years I’ve spent fighting to make the best of our situation feel so futile.
Maybe I wasn’t the best candidate for the job. Maybe I should have surrendered Bridget to the state. Maybe, just maybe, had she been with anyone other than me, she would have had a chance at a better life. I tried so hard to be what she needed, and it’s never been enough. I’m not enough.
With that thought, I stumble into the kitchen and pull another beer from the fridge. Lou weaves through my feet, making me trip. I barely catch my self on the lip of the counter.
“Fuck, Lou! Are you trying to kill me?” I shout at my cat.
He glares at me, flicks his tail, and stalks out of the room.
Perfect. Now my cat hates me too.
I’m vaguely aware of my phone ringing from my bedroom.
Maybe it’s Bridget. Moving clumsily, I eventually make it to the doorway, then to my bed.
I fall ungracefully onto the mattress and pull the phone from my nightstand.
I don’t even remember putting it there. It’s pitch dark in here, so the light from the screen is blinding.
My vision is blurry, no doubt due to the alcohol in my system.
Squinting, Ro’s name comes into view. One part of me wants to answer and tell him I need him.
I want him to hold me and tell me I’m not a fuck up.
But the other part of me can’t bear the thought of him seeing me like this… or hearing how awful I was to Bridget.
My pride wins out, and I silence the phone then roll to get up.
It was the wrong move. Nausea has my stomach churning, and my head feels like it’s spinning.
I slap a hand over my mouth and lurch for the bathroom.
Miraculously, I make it to the toilet before hurling up my guts.
The last time I was anywhere near this drunk, was the night Rowan and I almost hooked up in the bathroom.
Eventually, there’s nothing left for me to vomit and my body is spent.
I slump to the floor and curl up on my side.
Bathroom floors are, by nature, disgusting and uncomfortable, but right now it feels like the only place in the world I’ve ever needed.
The phone starts ringing again as I drift into unconsciousness.