The Aftermath #7

“Lee!” Ann and Maria yelled in unison.
She closed her eyes and took a few breaths, swallowing the bile in her mouth. “I’m fine.” The second she finished talking, the bile came up. “No I’m not, bathroom!” Joe pointed her toward it, she was grateful it was close by. She ran, throwing the door open before she went on her knees and leaned her head over the toilet basin.
When she was done, she sat on the marble floor and leaned her head against the cool wall. Ann and Maria were there, watching her. She still felt uncomfortable having them around when she had her head over the toilet.
She looked around the bathroom. It was huge! It looked like a catalogue bathroom for the rich and famous. The floor and walls were cream marbled with a historic feel to it like the living room. “Are these guys’ billionaires or something?”
Ann laughed then reached down to help her up. “No. They’ve just lived long enough to save up to afford it.”
“What?”
“You are the one who said they looked exactly the same as they did when you were five.”
“Oh, right.” Lee supported herself on the crystal sink. She ran her fingers over the bronze taps which looked really expensive—according to the little history she paid attention to in class—the taps do belong in a museum.
“We are waiting for Ash to explain it to us.” Maria handed her, her toothbrush. “I had it close just incase.” Then she laughed, more out of relief than amusement.
“Where is Ash?” Lee leaned against the crystal sink. She felt guilty spitting on the beautiful art work.
“He’s in the AA room, sleeping off his hangover.” Ann laughed. Maria joined her.
“AA room? You two quit laughing and tell me the joke.” She walked out of the bathroom, unsteady on her feet.
“How about we show you.” Maria walked ahead; Ann was beside Lee holding on to her incase she fell over.
Maria opened the big double doors. She stood at the door, flabbergasted by what she saw. They had wall-to-wall alcohol! The bottles of different types of alcohol were their version of wallpaper. A huge flat screen TV mounted on the wall and a mini bar in the far corner.
“AA—as in Alcoholics Anonymous.” Now she understood the joke.
“They call it Alcohol and Amusement.” Maria was whispering. “Ash is asleep on the couch.” She pointed to a huge black leather couch that was facing the TV.
She walked toward it. Ash was asleep shirtless on his belly, a bottle of tequila still in his hand. His eyes were swollen and red, his hair was messed up, his chin full of stubs of a growing beard. He smelled like a brewery!
She held her breath as she sat on the edge of the couch. His face was creasing and then relaxing; his lips kept shifting from a frown to a stiff line. He was having a bad dream, fighting his own demons. She felt sad that she had done this to him; made him a restless drunk. She thought that she was the one who clung to him like a lifeline; she never realized exactly how much they depended on each other to stay sane.
She ran her hand across his back and stopped on the huge round scar under his shoulder blade that stood out on his soft even skin. She’d never noticed it before, she’d never noticed a lot about him until it was close to too late. *Well, better late than never*. But he would tell her everything, once he was awake or courageous enough. *This time I won’t leave him, no matter what, I won’t make that mistake again*.
She thought about Sabrina, and if Ash hadn’t got there in time. What if she had succeeded in killing her? If her being unconscious for three days put him in this current state, what would have happened to him if she had died? The only thing that came to mind was what would have happened to her if the roles were reversed. She shuddered trying to erase the possibility from her mind. She wouldn’t be able to bare it if he died and left her behind, she’d rather die before he did.
She died once the day her family was killed, reborn when Ash came into her life. It would be another death sentence, the only difference is this time it would be unquestionably explicitly permanent.
“How long has he been like this?”
“Drunk or passed out?” Ann asked her tone cold. Lee didn’t like it.
“Maria?” She controlled her irritation and waited for Maria to answer her.
“He’s been drunk since we arrived, he’s been out for a half a day now, but Joe says he’ll be awake soon.”
“To get drunk again and pass out. But you’re awake so, you’ll save us from that.”
Ann’s indifference was getting to Lee. “Ann, please don’t speak. If you don’t have anything helpful to say, don’t speak.”
She sat there for a few more minutes before the stench got to her. It was making her nauseous again and her stomach was too empty to throw anything up. Her stomach rumbled; the three-day involuntary hunger strike was catching up to her. She stood up and walked to the door. “Where is the kitchen?”