This is the thought that keeps swirling through my head as I take another slug of whiskey, setting the tumbler on the coffee table without a coaster. Something that would usually bother me, but who cares, when I’ve hurt Iris? Betrayed her trust? Humiliated her?
The whiskey burns my throat, and I let it. I need it to drown out the burning in my chest every time I think of the hurt on Iris’s face. The betrayal shadowing her eyes.
God, I’m such a fucking idiot, blurting that out to John. I just couldn’t listen to him rant about her for another second. Couldn’t let him continue to see her as a failure. As broken.
The irony is, that’s exactly how she thinksIsee her now, isn’t it? Putting that label on her without even talking to her about it. That wasn’t my place—and wasnevermy intention—it just erupted out of me in fury. In a futile attempt to force John to see how wrong he is about her.
But that doesn’t excuse it. Doesn’t justify it. Doesn’t make it okay. She deserved so much better than overhearing me blurt that to her father. She deserved—deserves—gentleness and care.Patience. Someone who can be steady when she needs it. Not someone who loses his shit.
I take another swig of whiskey, grinding my jaw. I didn’t return to the office today. Didn’t want to face John’s questions. Couldn’t imagine walking in there knowing I wouldn’t see Iris’s face.
Instead, I cleaned my apartment. Put in two hours at the gym. And tried to think of a way to fix this fucking mess I’ve made.
But I’m not sure I can.
My phone buzzes on the table, and I leap at it hopefully, pressing answer before I even check who it is. All I can think about is Iris. Hearing her voice.
But my sister is the one who says, “Hello? Aid?”
I heave out a breath, settling back onto the sofa. I shouldn’t have answered.
“Hey, Soph,” I mutter, words coming out rough as gravel.
There’s a pause. “You sound weird,” she says. “What’s going on?”
I grunt, slugging back more whiskey. I don’t even know where to begin.
Sophie exhales down the line. “I’m going to grab food and come over, okay?”
Fuck. No. I can’t let her see me like this.
“I’m fine,” I grate out, but it sounds like a lie, even to me.
There’s another pause, and then, “Please? I could use someone to talk to.”
Everything within me softens. I’m such a selfish bastard, sitting here wallowing when my sister needs me.
“Of course. Should I…” I begin, about to offer to drive to her apartment, trailing off when I realize how much I’ve had to drink.
“No, I’ll come to you,” she says, as if she knows. “Chinese okay?”
“Sure.”
We end the call, and I stare into my whiskey, debating whether to finish the glass. If Soph wants to talk, I should have my wits about me, but it’s probably too late for that already.
I down the rest, distracting myself with Netflix while I wait for her to arrive. Choosing a show at random—Brooklyn 99—I press play and sit back, trying to take my mind off Iris. It’s not until I’m halfway through the second episode that I realize I haven’t chosen this show at random at all. Iris has talked about it multiple times. The thought makes me even more miserable, and I decidefuck it, pouring another glass of whiskey as Soph knocks on the door.
She runs her eyes over me with a frown when I answer. I catch sight of myself in the entryway mirror and wince. My hair sticks out at all angles from me anxiously running my hands through it all afternoon, there’s a stain on my sweats, and my eyes are red-rimmed. I’m a mess.
Soph holds up two bags of Chinese, and I step aside to let her in, the room spinning a little around me as I do. God knows how much help I’ll be to her in this state, and I’m not only talking about the booze.
We settle in at the coffee table with the food, and I’m reminded of that first night after Iris started at the firm, when Soph and I sat here and talked about her. It makes my chest ache, and I push the thought away as I pour Soph a tumbler of whiskey.
Her brows rise. “What’s going on, Aid?”
I wave a hand. “Don’t worry about me. Are you okay? You said you wanted to talk.”
She smirks. “Of course I did, otherwise you never would have let me come over.”
