When I’d spoken to Maddie on the train back from my meeting, she’d sounded like a typical kid after indulging in all the water rides and, I was sure, all the junk food my parents could throw at her. I didn’t want her to hurt or dwell on the loss of her mother, but I wanted her to remember her enough to miss her today.
Maybe that was my fault.
I hardly brought up my sister, not by name anyway. I’d constantly ask Maddie if she was okay and told her if she was sad, she could talk to me, but neither of us ever mentioned Tessa. I wondered if Maddie didn’t mention her for the same reason I didn’t—we were afraid of both missing her too much and making the other upset if we brought her up.
When Maddie had told me she’d helped my mother make thebest cupcakefor her mom’s birthday before they’d left for the park, because it “doesn’t matter if it’s fresh or not since we’re just going to bury it,” something broke inside me. The deep crack in my chest I’d tried so hard to ignore had finally burst open.
My sister couldn’t celebrate her birthday, eat the cupcake her daughter had helped bake for her, or call me a dork after I’d woken her up at the crack of dawn to sing “Happy Birthday.”
I’d had months for it to settle in and to start to accept it. I’d thought enclosing Maddie and myself into a bubble and putting all my focus on being what she needed, all while ignoring how much it hurt to lose my baby sister, was the best way to move on and heal.
Yesterday, the pain had become too deep and all-consuming to ignore, and now I couldn’t escape it.
Once I’d decided to drink myself into oblivion, I’d texted Caden to get me, but I couldn’t recall anything else after. The entire night was like a fuzzy dream that began to fade before I could register any of the details. The image of punching myaddress into a GPS screen fluttered in my mind, but I couldn’t see who the driver was.
Who had brought me home?
I groaned as I pushed off the bed to stand, pressing my finger into my temple to stop the pain. I had never been a big drinker, but either my age made a night of alcohol that much harder to recover from or I’d just drunkthatmuch. Maybe a combo of the two. I shrugged it off until I noticed the dents on both sides of the bed, as if I hadn’t been alone here last night.
Had someone been here? Had I brought someone home and not realized it? I pushed my finger deeper into the side of my head, trying to get my brain to unclog enough to remember something.
My blood ran ice-cold through my veins, the chill waking me up enough to panic again. Did I bring a stranger home into the house that I shared with my niece? That was not okay, regardless of whether she was here or not.
I grabbed my phone, hoping Caden would give me some kind of explanation of last night. Maybe he’d stayed because I was that pathetic and sick to make sure I didn’t choke on my own vomit during the night.
I’d take whatever shit he wanted to give me about the state of mind I was in if he was the one who’d brought me home.
I couldn’t let this happen again. I’d go to therapy and straighten myself out, and if I’d just embarrassed myself in front of my best friend and hadn’t brought any strange women into this house, I’d never drink another drop.
I had a flood of missed calls from Caden and one text from Emily lingering on my phone screen.
Emily:Caden gave me a ride to the train station parking lot to get your car. I should be back in a little bit.
I fell back on the edge of the bed, groaning out a sigh of deep relief. Emily was the one who’d gotten me home.
But, wait. Emily had stayed here?
Fragments started to piece together along the edges of my memory.
Emily holding me up on the barstool, throwing her credit card at the bartender and begging him to run my bill quickly as I buried my head into the crook of her neck. The memory of her perfume, roses mixed with vanilla, as I’d clung to her.
I dropped my head into my hands as more details crystallized in my foggy brain.
I’d let myself rub up against her as she’d dragged me to her car and had told her to pick my keys out of my pocket. Then I’d jerked off in front of her and begged her to help me.
This wasn’t as bad as bringing a stranger home, but fucking awful all the same.
Jesus Christ, what the hell have I done?
My unresolved grief wasn’t the only thing I’d let out of my system, thanks to the booze.
I wanted Emily, so much I could barely think about anything else. But I was too much of a mess to be in any position to ask for more than friendship. I’d proven that last night in spades. What she had to think of me now… How could I even begin to apologize for this? I could only reason away so much of what I’d done and said last night as pain over missing my sister.
Even through all my disgusting behavior, she’d managed to get me home. And she’d stayed.
I didn’t deserve her. Not back then, and especially now.
Grabbing a T-shirt from my drawer and a pair of shorts, I headed to my bathroom to splash some cold water on my face and figure out my damn life—or at least what to say to Emily once she came back.
