46. Violet
VIOLET
I back out of Drew’s driveway.
But I don’t head for home.
Instead, I drive down the street, do a U-Turn, and park in the same place where Drew signed the rental agreement for the house.
I smile to myself.
Apparently I'm incapable of doing anything normally.
There’s no way I’m leaving him.
I can’t.
He drank far more whiskey for someone who barely drinks beer.
My fingers tighten around the steering wheel. I know all I’d do is worry all night if I left him alone.
What if he gets sick?
What if he chokes in his sleep?
What if he falls trying to get to the bathroom?
I count the minutes, then send him a text.
I’m not honest.
Not this time.
But there’s no way I’m telling him I’m sitting down the street from his house as we text back and forth.
The house finally goes dark. And stays that way.
I wait.
When enough time has passed, I unbuckle my seatbelt and climb out of my car.
Good thing I’m resourceful.
The porch light glows softly as I quietly make my way toward the front door.
The spare key is hidden exactly where I expected.
Of course it is.
Drew is a creature of habit.
And he prepares for everything.
Except me.
The lock clicks and I slip inside.
The house is silent.
I hear a tiny thump as Luna jumps down from Drew’s bed and runs down the hallway, a tiny meow escaping.
The little gray fluffball trots toward me before rubbing against my ankle.
I crouch, scratching behind her ears. "Hi, sweetheart."
She purrs.
"Is your dad asleep?"
Another meow.
“Is he okay?”
She purrs, then heads down the hallway.
I follow.
The bedroom door is half open.
I stop in the doorway.
Drew is sprawled diagonally across the bed, still wearing his jeans and shoes. One arm hangs over the edge of the mattress.
His breathing is slow and even. Normal.
Only then does the knot in my chest loosen.
I quietly disappear into the bathroom to grab the trash can.
I set it beside the bed, just in case he gets sick.
Then I head to the kitchen and grab a bottle of water.
He keeps a bottle of aspirin in the kitchen in case he gets a headache while working. I grab two of them from the bottle.
In case he wakes up miserable, he won't have to search.
I carry them back to the bedroom, Luna trailing behind me.
I set the water and aspirin on his nightstand, scooping up his car keys.
He was definitely still buzzed from alcohol. He always hangs them on the key holder.
I shove them into my pocket, then kneel beside the bed.
I untie one shoe, then the other, and slide them off. His stocking feet hang over the edge of the bed.
He never wakes.
My heart melts.
There's a folded blanket at the foot of the bed.
I unfold it and drape it over him.
He sighs, his shoulders visibly relaxing.
Almost instinctively, he rolls onto his side.
I freeze.
His fingers twitch against the mattress, but he doesn’t wake.
For one reckless second, I want to climb in beside him. Just until morning, leaving before he wakes.
But I don’t.
I’ll see him tomorrow when he’s awake and sober.
I stand there, watching him sleep.
He looks so peaceful.
Luna jumps onto the bed and curls up beside him. I reach down and scratch her ears.
A snore comes from Drew, and I smile.
I reach down and brush a lock of hair off his forehead. His breathing never changes.
I watch him until I feel it’s safe to leave.
"Sleep well," I whisper. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Luna jumps down and follows me all the way to the front door.
I scratch beneath her chin one last time.
"Take care of him for me."
She blinks slowly. Like a promise.
I lock the door, then slip back into the night.
My phone is already in my hand before I reach the street.
Callie answers on the third ring.
"You owe me," she mumbles.
"I know."
"This is about Drew?"
"Yes."
She sighs dramatically. "What do you need?"
"His car's still at the bar. I’m coming to pick you up so I can drive it to his house.”
There’s a beat of silence.
"You really love him."
I glance back at the darkened house.
"Yeah," I whisper. "I really do."