Chapter 32
LUKE
Idon’t think I’ve ever been so drunk I’ve blacked out before, but there’s a first time for everything.
I’m not sure if I had a panic attack or something more severe, but the realization that Riley really and truly left cracked something inside of me that I’m not sure can ever be put back together. A few sips didn’t ease the pain in my chest this time, so I kept going. And going.
Waking up now on the cold wood floor next to the bed, I have no idea whether I ever made it onto the mattress or if I rolled off sometime during the night.
The way my head is swimming is a pretty good indicator I’m still drunk.
I try to open my eyes, but they’re swollen nearly shut.
I manage to crack one open, but the bright white walls are reflecting the late morning sun in a way that feels like an ice pick through my skull, so I abandon my attempts to see anything.
Checking in with the rest of my senses, I can hear birds chirping outside and the hum of the air conditioning unit, and I smell the chlorine from the pool wafting in from the open patio door.
I must have gone outside at some point last night…
thank fuck I didn’t drown myself in the pool, I guess.
My cheek is pasted to the floor in a patch of dried drool, and my mouth feels like I spent all night sucking whiskey off a cotton ball.
The memory of Riley walking out the door and not looking back slams into me again. I swallow back tears, my throat so dry that I have to make a couple of attempts. He left. He left, and he didn’t come back.
I didn’t even tell him I love him. And fuck, I love him so much it hurts.
I tried to force the words out of my throat, desperate to say them back to him.
To assure him that I’m on the same page, that I’m so deeply in love with him that I don’t know how I could live without him now.
But I’ve never told anyone that I love them, and the words wouldn’t seem to take the right shape in my mouth, let alone make it past my lips.
And now he’s gone.
Opening my eyes to slits once again, I make an attempt to push up off the floor.
My head is throbbing and my biceps are trembling, and I feel as weak as a newborn kitten, but I manage to use the bed as leverage to pull myself upright, at least. The room starts to spin, and I rest my head between my knees for just a moment before blackness pulls me under again.
The next few hours pass in fragments that feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience.
The next time I come to, my stomach is gurgling angrily, and my vision is blurry around the edges, but I don’t feel drunk anymore, at least. I manage to stumble to the kitchen and drink two bottles of water and eat a banana before collapsing back into bed and nodding off almost immediately.
When I wake, I have a headache unlike any pain I’ve ever experienced in my life. Riley was ever prepared and made sure to pack some ibuprofen. No. I can’t think about Riley right now. There’s no way I’m spending another night here alone. I just want to break down in the peace of my own home.
I drag myself into the bathroom and pop four painkillers before awkwardly stripping out of my sweaty clothes and making it into the shower. The cold water breathes some life back into me, and the throbbing pain in my head is beginning to abate.
Feeling a little more human, I manage to locate my phone—which is dead.
I check the time as soon as it’s plugged in and powered on, and I’m pretty sure I can still make it home at a reasonable hour if I leave right away.
Scrolling to my recent calls to find Jess’s number, I see an outgoing call to Riley that lasted two and a half minutes.
Jesus fucking Christ. Did we speak last night? Did I make it worse?
Panic grips my heart, slowly squeezing tighter and tighter. I suck in a few deep breaths and focus on dialing Jess.
“Why are you calling me?” she greets with a laugh. “I figured you and your man would spend your entire romantic getaway between the sheets.”
Shame heats my face. Because that is what we should be doing. “We, um…I…” I clear my throat, trying to find words and fight back tears at the same time. “We…broke up instead.”
“What?!” Jess screeches. “Holy mother of fuck, Luke, are you kidding me? What the hell?”
I press my fingertips to my temples and grit my teeth at her volume. “I can’t talk about it now…I just need to get home. Can you call Aggie’s daycare for me and have them bring her home? I should be there in the next three hours or so; they can just drop her off if I’m not back yet.”
“Of course, hon, whatever you need.” The shock in her voice is laced with sympathy, and I cannot do this with her right now, or I’ll break down again and won’t be able to drive home.
“Thanks, boss.” I clear my throat again, trying to maintain a semblance of composure at least. “You’re a lifesaver.”
I take a few deep breaths when we hang up and push Riley out of my mind. Three more hours. Three more hours and I’ll be home, and I can finally let myself fall apart again.
Aggie greets me at the door as soon as I walk in, and there’s something about the wag of her tail and the way it looks like she’s smiling that immediately makes me lose it.
I drop to my knees and let her climb into my arms and lick my face, and I finally release the grief and pain and tension that I’ve been bottling for hours as I white-knuckled it home.
I played that last conversation with Riley over and over in my mind during the drive.
I know I fucked up by not telling him about Cooper, and I should have considered his sobriety rule before the collab with Rod.
But surely that can’t be enough to throw away our whole relationship?
Surely we can figure out a compromise that doesn’t involve me quitting work or losing Riley.
Aggie is sniffing around my bag now, swinging her gaze between me and the door. She probably needs to go out, but first I have to talk to Riley. I have to find out how much damage I did with that drunken phone call, and I have to try and fix it.
Just when I think his phone is going to ring to voicemail, he answers with a groggy, “H’lo?” and my heart leaps into my throat.
“Hi, baby,” I breathe, my voice breaking at knowing that it’s really him on the other end of the line.
“Luke?” He sounds a little more alert now. “It’s almost midnight…are you okay?”
I wince. I forgot about the two-hour time difference. “Yeah…yeah, I’m sorry. Um…where are you?”
I can hear the rustling of the sheets in the background, and my heart aches to be next to him. “I got home a few hours ago. Why are you calling, Luke?”
“I just…I, um, saw that I called you last night.” I pull my knees up and drop my head forward in shame. “I don’t know what I said, so…I was just hoping maybe we could talk about it.”
Riley releases a long breath, and I can hear the pain and exhaustion in the sound. “I don’t know what you said either, so we don’t really have anything to talk about. I listened to the first few seconds, and it was pretty clear you were drunk, so I deleted it.”
“Oh.” I’m not sure if I’m relieved or saddened that he didn’t listen to it.
“Was that all?” His voice is a little clipped, and I suddenly feel like a little kid being scolded, but I don’t know why.
“I just really wanted to talk to you…” I trail off, not sure what else to say to keep him on the line. Suddenly, I remember my birthday and our plans. “I know you probably need some time, and I get that…but maybe some space will help, you know? We can go to Hawaii in a couple of weeks and—”
“I can’t go to Hawaii with you, Luke.”
The words were spoken plain as day, but for some reason, my brain can’t make them make sense. “But…we already have everything booked and planned…”
“Listen to me, Luke.” He’s trying his hardest to mask the way his voice cracks on my name, but his tone is firm.
“I can’t do this with you anymore. You called me completely plastered last night, right after I told you that your drinking is scaring me.
I can’t keep watching you close in on yourself, and I love you too much to stand by and do nothing while you self-destruct. So…we can’t go to Hawaii together.”
“I can stop,” I insist desperately. “It isn’t that big of a deal, I was just—”
“It isn’t just the drinking. You lied to me about Cooper, and you still haven’t told me what’s going on with you.
I haven’t felt like you respect me at all lately.
I do need space, and a few weeks isn’t enough.
” His voice betrays him and breaks a little when he says, “I think it’s best if we don’t talk. I need a clean break from this, okay?”
I’m frozen solid, mind completely blank except for a high-pitched ringing in my ears.
“Please get some help.” His voice is a quiet plea. “Please.”
The click on the other end indicates that the call has ended, and I think I may have gone into shock because I can’t feel anything.
Aggie is pushing at me with her nose, but the coldness of her snout doesn’t register against my skin.
My phone falls to the floor, and I think I hear a crack, but I can’t bring myself to care.
No.
This can’t be it. This can’t be the end.
It can’t be.
Aggie is whining now, pawing at my arm and trying to climb into my lap.
I lift her carefully and bury my face into the fold of skin at her warm neck, breathing in the lavender scent of the shampoo they use on her at the daycare.
The calming effect of the scent must be working, because I should definitely be feeling the now familiar shortness of breath and tightening of my chest, but instead, I just feel numb.
“It’s okay, Aggs,” I tell her softly. “He’s not coming back…but you’re gonna be okay.” She lets out another muffled whine. “It’s okay to be sad. Someday, it won’t hurt as much, but it’s okay if it hurts right now. It just means you really, really love him.”