51 — The worst decision
I knew leaving like that was not nice of me. I replayed that scene over and over again in my head until my throat turned bitter. Then I gave in.
I'm not a proud person, but when I knock on Julian's door and Cathy opens it, I feel something break inside me; maybe it’s the little pride is left in me, or maybe it's my heart… It's too soon to tell.
“Hi… Angelee, right?” She asks, looking at me intently. My heart is beating so fast it's painful. “I'm Cathy.”
She extends her hand to greet me… and I simply mimic her, with my mind practically blank. I greeted her briefly and let my hand fall to the side of my body again, like the soul had left this empty shell.
“Julian is in the shower now.” Cathy says, looking further into the apartment, and her words sound like a punch straight to my stomach. “If you want-”
“It's okay… I can talk to him later.” I force a smile, taking a few steps back. “Thanks.”
Maybe my expression gave me away because Cathy looked like she's about to say something, but I rushed to get back to my place so quickly that she didn't get a chance. I just don't think I'll be able to hear anything else… I don't know how long I can keep my eyes dry.
The door closes with a loud thud, and I lean against it, my heart hammering heavily in my chest. Damn… the tears are already coming, wetting my eyelashes and threatening to roll down my face.
I slide down to sit on the floor and curl my legs up, hugging them awkwardly, hiding my face in my knees even though no one can see me in this pathetic moment.
While tears stream down my face and my mouth turns bitter, I can't help but feel pathetic… I became aware of how dependent I was on Eric and Laura, only to hand over the control of my life to someone else.
And now that I find myself alone, I feel lost, afloat in a vast sea, when I don’t see nothing on the horizon.
But suddenly, like always happens when I'm on the edge, looking at the precipice one step away from me… I feel empty, with a hole in my chest that pulls my emotions like a damn black hole, making my nerves go numb. The eyes dry up — the *throat* dries up.
Yeah… I really need to drink something right now.
***
I don't know how much I've drunk, honestly. I know that it's a bottle of my father's special vintage wine, but is there a better occasion to drink it than a broken heart? He will understand, I'm sure. I mean, *Dad, I've been fucking your best friend, and now I'm in love and dying with jealousy…* Who wouldn't understand?
I look at my cell phone every minute, checking for any texts, any calls, anything that says Julian is thinking about me, but there's nothing. Absolutely nothing. Either Cathy left out the fact that I knocked on his door a few hours ago, or he simply doesn't care about it.
But does it matter? I'm feeling really pathetic right now.
Even though Julian said she's just a friend, and that there's no reason for him to lie… I can't shake this agonizing feeling.
Indeed, I have become too skeptical. If I were told right now that the world is round, maybe I would doubt it too. Perhaps I'm just overly insecure, or maybe I'm still bleeding from the wounds made by Eric and Laura. But my trust issues are here, open, with no sign of healing.
How long will I keep doing this? I promised myself that I would do what I wanted and that I wouldn't receive less than I deserved. So why I'm sitting here on this floor pathetically, drinking a thousand-dollar wine alone, trying to make myself better?
I feel like a liar, the worst kind — *the one who lies to himself.*
With a sigh, I tilt my head, staring at the ceiling… or at least the shadow of it, since I didn't dare turn on the lights. And with another sigh, even deeper, I bring the neck of the bottle to my lips to wet them with the wine that feels only sweet… I can't distinguish the strong taste of alcohol anymore.
Hah, screw that.
I stagger up, leaning on the wall while I keep turning the bottle, taking several sips of the drink that no longer burns my throat.
Somehow, I make it to the bedroom, using the walls as support. My vision is slightly blurred, maybe because the wine is making me a bit more intoxicated than I expected.
And somehow, I also get rid of my clothes, tripping over my legs, over the cloth that slides around my ankles. Naked, in front of the mirror, I feel disconnected from my body… like it doesn't belong to me…
This distressing feeling makes my chest tighten once again.
In the closet, I spot the lingerie I bought for Julian the day I was determined to provoke him. And honestly, where is that bold flame that burned in me…? Has it shattered like my faith?
No… I can't leave it like this….
I must pick up these shards, even if my hands bleed through it.
So I reach out towards that piece of clothing like it's a light. And while my fingers reach for it and feel the texture of the fabric over my fingerprints, I have possibly the *worst idea* my slightly drunk mind could think of… And I make possibly the *worst decision* someone with half a bottle of wine in their system could make.
I dress quickly and search for the most provocative, revealing, daring dress I've bought… the one I bought to reassert myself, but didn't have the courage or the opportunity to wear. The kind that should be tucked away, not sliding down my body.
But it's too late to try to bring reason back. Because even though I know this is a bad idea… I'll do it anyway. I just save my feet from the high heels because the fall would be inevitable.
When I blink, I'm walking down the elevator, through the hotel lobby… hailing a cab on the edge of the sidewalk, almost tripping over my legs. And then, someone is driving through the bustling streets of New York, stopping at red lights that attract my wine-blurred eyes.
I don't know if the address is right, I hope it is.
“Are you okay, miss?” The driver asks, looking at me through the rearview mirror.
“I'm about to make one of the stupidest decisions of my life.” I say without looking at him, keeping my eyes locked on the sidewalk, at the people walking past us, completely oblivious to the chaos residing in my head.
“Why do it then?” It sounds like a sincere question… not a scolding, not a reprimand… a genuine curiosity.
I lean my head against the window and rest my gaze on him. Our eyes are not locked on each other. In fact, I can't see his expression at all… and maybe that's why the courage to say what's really on my mind comes out: “Because if I don't... this might also be the biggest regret of my life.”
Yes, I'm tired of regretting the things I should have done, but didn't because I was too scared. Because I was used to and attached to the routine, even though I was unhappy and tired of so many what ifs.
I know that doing this is stupid. I know I'll possibly regret it when the alcohol wears off and reason comes back to mind, but right now... I want to be free, even if that also means getting rid of my judgment.
“Here we are, miss.” The driver turns to me, and I finally see his mature face that matches the hair starting to gray. There's a worried expression on it, and somehow warms my heart. “Are you sure you want to stay here?”
I pull a few hundred-dollar bills out of my purse and hand them to him, noticing that he's surprised by the big amount. He's about to refuse, but I add, “Your tip. Keep the change.”
He takes the money, but still has a serious expression on his face. I ignore it, opening the door, and when I get out of the car, I inhale as much as I can — inflating my lungs to the max.
And lifting my eyes, I see the front of the club that had tormented me deeply because of those photos. I'm back in that kinky club.... And this time, of my own free will.
I don't feel like I can go back now, but don't feel that tipsy anymore.
I guess it's really time to get Julian out of my system too.
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