Page 10 of Imbalanced Minds

Chapter Five

Iris

Gazing at the time, I find a note on my bedside table saying Nat went back to Justin’s.

I had a good sleep because it’s gone evening and I’m starving. Rubbing both of my hands down my face I hop out of bed and hobble to the kitchen in search of a frozen dinner to heat up. At times like these when I can’t be bothered cooking, I don’t mind having a pre-made meal from Mum. She loves to fuss and if it involves feeding us kids then we let her.

As I move to the sink to clean my dishes, I stare out the kitchen window wondering what to do seeing as I have the house to myself.

Not caring for the hangover I’ve spent most of the weekend sleeping off, I find myself opening a bottle of wine, turning on my Bluetooth speaker and cranking some tunes from my playlist; didn’t I say music was my go-to. Blasting it as loud as the neighbours will allow, I relaxingly sip my wine in between picking up the mess I created.

After taking out what was left of the mess to the outside bins, I do a little happy dance at the victory. The more I get into my little dance the more I let go—just like at the club Friday night.

Memories suddenly assault me, and I freeze in place as I remember two large dominating hands slide over my body. The gentle caress as we moved as one on the dance floor and the warmth of his breath on my neck as he leaned into me. I get goosebumps merely thinking of it which causes my body to heat in ways I’ve been trying to suppress. The intoxicating warmth of his large body engulfing mine and the huskiness of his voice as he spoke into my ear, brushing it ever so softly. This man is playing havoc with my mind and body and I need something to pull me out of my thoughts before I’m giving in to temptation.

Before I know it, I’ve finished my first bottle and have a nice buzz flowing. It’s a good thing I can get more from my secret stash hidden underneath my bed. The spot where I go to make all my thoughts disappear with ease.

I quickly reach for a bottle, not caring to look at what one I grab then make a dash back to the lounge and try to slide along the wooden floor in my fluffy socks, almost crashing into the coffee table because I over-committed to the slide.

Righting myself and opening my second bottle, sudden sadness washes over me having no one to share my silly antics with. It starts my downward spiral as all of the pain that currently consumes me is set free; for lack of trying, pain I seem to have no control over.

Melting down like a complete fool, I slump into a puddle of drunken tears as I collapse down on the couch and let it all out. Gathering a cushion and holding it tight to my chest, I rest my chin on it while curling up into the foetal position. All the built-up emotion I’ve tried so hard to build walls around being released in a violent stream of ugly tears and snot.

I hate that I’ve gone from being so great and on top of the world to seriously depressed and hitting rock bottom in a blink of an eye. I’d like to blame the hormones, but I know better than that. It's been a while since I’ve fallen to the dark, but it seems Cory, or should I call him asshole, validated my return ticket. Deep down, I don’t think that of him but right now, in this moment, I blame him for everything. It’s easier than blaming myself any more than I already do.

My heart unexpectedly jumps out of my skin and my thoughts are scrambled as my front door suddenly crashes open. This was not how I saw this sob party for one ending.

Quickly sitting up while wiping my sleeve over my face, I try to compose myself so that the man in the entranceway doesn’t get wind of what just happened to me.

A rather concerned and distressed looking Cory wanders into the lounge, looking me over with furrowed brows, making me think I’m obvious as all get up. But that thought’s halted with a round of quick-fire questions aimed at me.

“Why don’t you have your fucking door locked? Do you know anyone could have entered here? And what’s with the loud music?” he puffs. It looks like someone’s fighting an internal war. To an onlooker, he looks absolutely pissed, but I can see straight through him and I know the gentle, caring heart deep down wants to come out. He just hides it well.

You and me both, chief.

I reply the only way I know how; deflecting and putting on a façade. “Only a party for one going on in here.” I chide and hiccup all at once. “Care to join me? Oh wait, you couldn’t get away fast enough the other night, so why are you here now, huh!” I yell, no longer giving a shit and completely overreacting. I’m over his shit fest and ready to high five the ‘C U Next Tuesday’ in the face with a chair. How can he barge in here and act as if nothing happened! He broke me and my already fractured soul, so he has no right to these demanding questions.

The turmoil rolls through me in waves; confusion as to why he’s here and how he’s making me so unhinged. Yet the vulnerable softie in me wants him to hold me so I can melt in his arms and pretend none of it ever happened.

He comes closer to me. “Listen, Iris, I came to apologise. Can you turn the music off and let me explain? Please?”

I think about it for a beat longer than necessary deciding he’s at least owed that much, even if his odd behaviour doesn’t warrant it.

Turning the music off I offer him a seat on the couch next to me then decide I may as well offer some liquid courage too. “Drink?” holding my wine bottle out.

“No thanks.”

Plucking the bottle from my hand he continues to talk to me. “Listen, I’m really sorry about Friday night, hell Saturday morning is probably more accurate. Anyway, I shouldn’t have flirted and toyed with you like I did. It wasn’t fair to lead you on. You’re Justin’s younger sister for crying out loud. It’s just… when I’m around you, I lose my damn mind and all rational thought goes out the window. Can I be honest with you?” he pleads with his eyes, which kills me that this particular look is there in the first place.

“Sure,” I huff in defeat, “shoot.”

He takes my hand in his, but I pull it away not wanting any physical connection. The hurt expression on his face tells me this is hard for him too. Still, the confusion in me is enough to be cautious.

“I can’t be with you. Not because of Justin, but because of me. I had a very unpleasant past relationship, and I can’t put you in a position where I could hurt you. Iris, the last person I cared for, I hurt. Badly.” Cory says looking up at me from under his lashes, his wispy hair falling over his eyes.

“How bad?” I press on, needing to know if he’s just trying to scare me or if he’s telling the truth. Justin never told me this part of Cory’s story. I’m going to make it my mission to find out the truth, and when I do, he’ll wish he never played with Iris Jones’ heart. Because I’m going to make him see that he’s still worthy and when I’m done, he’ll be the one chasing me asking for another chance.