Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
She stepped back and held her fingers out. “I’m still in love with you.” A finger went down. “I … like seeing you every single day and that means waking up with you.” Another finger went down.
“I love it when you hold me while I sleep. I’ve been woken up so many times in the past by a belt or my father’s fist, that I didn’t sleep well for a long time, but I know you can take care of me. That you won’t let anything happen to me.” Another finger went down.
“You’re my husband.” The fourth finger went down.
“And one day, I’d love to have your babies and be happy.” The thumb closed around her fingers.
“And then, on this hand, the only reason I can see to leave, is to set you free.” Her lip quivered.
“You don’t have to set me free, Niamh.”
“But you don’t do love. You’re not in love with me, and you don’t deserve to live your life like this, with a woman you don’t like.”
I closed the distance between us. I had no idea if she was going to remember this conversation or not. Strong, good whiskey had that effect on the mind. It was why it was such a good drink to lose yourself in. “I don’t hate you. I don’t not like you. I do like you, Niamh, and I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want to grant you a divorce. I’d be very happy if you stayed.”
And, Niamh had been drinking for a very long time, and the effects of the alcohol were finally catching up to her. Her eyes drooped and seconds later, I caught her in my arms as she collapsed against me. Tomorrow, she would feel the aftereffects of the whiskey.
****
Niamh
It was official, I was never, never, ever, never, ever, ever, ever, ever drinking again. In fact, I’d like to throw in a few more never-evers. I didn’t think I was quite clear enough. I had no idea the toilet seat could become my new best friend, but I did have a sudden feeling to pet the damn thing.
I was going crazy. No doubt about it.
My shame was not just my own, though, nope, to help me along the shame trail, Peter had decided to stay. He’d laid beside me all night, and I hoped he’d been able to get some sleep. I knew from past experience that my mom’s snores got louder after a night of heavy drinking.
My mother also had the ability to forget her previous night’s escapades. She would often chuckle and gasp at all the right spots, but I must not have drunk enough, because I remembered everything. There was even a point where I jumped onto the wooden coffee table and began to dance. I might have invited Ivan to also let loose. Then of course, there was the truth-on-the-hand thing I told Peter.
I didn’t know if he was going to let me forget it or not. I was hoping he would, because I didn’t want to have to go through any of that.
He held my hair back as another wave of sickness washed over me, and this had nothing to do with a baby. Nope, I was throwing up my guts because I decided to wash down lunch with a ton of alcohol.
I was like my mother, even though I promised myself I never would be.
All I wanted to do was burst into tears, finish throwing up, and sink back beneath the covers of the blankets, and hope the ground would finally swallow me whole.
No more vomit was coming, and I moved to allow it to flush away. Peter rubbed at my back, and why did he have to be so sweet, so loving? This was not who he was, and yet he did it anyway.
I wanted to give him his freedom, it was one of the reasons I had started to drink, because having this choice was killing me. I did love Peter. There was no easy way that was going to fade away as if it didn’t exist, because it did exist, and I couldn’t just get away from that.
“There, are you okay?” Peter asked.
“I think so. I don’t think any more is going to come.” The entire contents of my stomach felt like they were now in the toilet. I’d already flushed the sick down, and now I glanced inside to make sure it was clean. Getting to my feet, Peter let go of my hair, and I pushed some out of my face.
“You need a shower,” he said.
I nodded. And also to brush my teeth.
Peter didn’t leave right away. He turned on the shower and checked the water. “I’m going to make you some breakfast. Do you think you can survive the shower without me?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I can figure it out.”