Page 23 of A Constant Love
I didn’t even hear Tyler come in, and when he called my name, I about fell off the stool I was perched on at our kitchen island.
“Shit, Kansas, how much have you had?”
My ears heard the words, but my brain didn’t comprehend a single one.
“Why didn’t you text me back? I texted you trying to be nice and apologize.” The words came out, but I had no idea how much sense they made.
“My phone died on my way to the bar. I’m sorry, baby. Come on, I think you’ve had enough.” He scooted the bottle away from me and grabbed my hand. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“If you want me naked, just say so,” I replied jokingly.
“Yeah, I doubt you’re up for that tonight,” he said as he led me into our bedroom.
“Trust Fund, I’ll have you know, I am always up for it. Just give me a minute to get out of my clothes.”
I stumbled to the bed and laid down. “Give me just a second to lay down. Then, I’m going to rock your world.”
I rocked nothing…except maybe my head the next morning which felt like it had rocks tumbling around in it.
Immediately, I got up and made my way to the shower. The smell of whiskey emanating from my pores was making me even more nauseated.
The hot water did little to help my pounding head, but at least I didn’t reek of stale booze anymore.
Once I was dressed in some shorts and a t-shirt, I made my way downstairs. Ty was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and didn’t look up with I entered.
After fixing my own cup of coffee, I sat down next to him.
Still nothing.
“You mad at me?’ I asked, looking down at my fingernails.
“No.” His response was cold.
“Could have fooled me.” I found it hard to hide my sarcasm.
That made him toss his phone down. “Sam, I’m not mad. I’m worried about you.”
Turning to face me, he continued, “If you don’t want to talk to me about what’s going on in that head of yours, fine, but you need to talk to someone. Drinking yourself into a stupor night after night isn’t going to help.”
“It’s not every night,” I defended.
“Okay, how much is too much, Sam?”
He’d said my name twice in thirty seconds. Not Kansas. Not baby. Sam. That’s how I knew how serious he was.
He went on. “I’m not saying you have a problem here, or I think you need to stop drinking. I’m saying that you’re not going to find any solace at the bottom of a whiskey bottle, and if you do find some, then something’s wrong. Take it from someone who used to drink a whole hell of a lot to drown out his sorrows. It doesn’t help. If you don’t want to talk to me, okay, but I think you need to talk to someone.”
“Like who? A shrink?” My voice rose.
His did the same. “Yeah, maybe, Sam. Maybe a shrink wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Go see someone who is paid to listen and knows how to help.”
I wished I could have told him that no one could really help me. I was fucked seven ways to Sunday.
But knowing I couldn’t tell him any of that, I thought maybe there was a way to appease him and get him to stop asking questions for a while.
“Okay, fine. I will go see a shrink, but it has to be in the evenings when I am not tutoring. And Gabe can take me.”
I figured Gabe would ask infinitely less questions than Tyler would.