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How am I going to survive this?
I toss my suitcase at the bottom of the staircase and make a beeline for the liquor cabinet. Pouring a healthyserving of whiskey into a rocks glass, I drain the amber liquid in one go and splash out another.
“Fuck!” I scream into the empty house, my voice echoing off all the hard surfaces.
Without Sloane here, the place feels cold and sterile. She was the warmth, the softness, the joy.
I lean against the island and stare out at the glowing orange ball over the lake, watch as it sinks down into the bluish-green abyss of the water. The light swallowed up by the darkness. I sit through that brief moment in time where there is no light—no sun, no moon—just empty sky.
Sit and think about all my mistakes. Absorb them until I’m aching. Bones, joints, tissue, and skin. It hurts to breathe and I’ve never felt more lonely.
I swipe the whiskey bottle from the counter and lumber through the house, up the stairs to the bedroom.
Empty.
But she’s still here. Everywhere. Haunting me.
Her sparkly laugh bouncing off the windows. The scent of fresh flowers lingering in the air, winding around me. Soft, heated skin as we lay together, staring out at the stars dotting the dusky sky.
A dull ache spreads through my chest, radiating down my arms, my torso, my legs. I’m tired, so fucking tired.
Staggering to the bed, I sink down onto the white duvet and kick off my shoes. Peel off my shirt and joggers, stripping down before collapsing against the pillows.
The smell of her shampoo drifts up from the crisp cotton and I’m torn between imagining her here or trying to block the memories altogether.
Lifting the liquor bottle straight to my lips, I take a long slug and try to drown my sorrow. The whiskey burns mythroat as it goes down, but does nothing to dull the pain. I tip the bottle back and drink more, hoping for relief.
None comes.
I slam the bottle down on the nightstand and stare out the windows into the dark, inky sky.
Dirty little secret.
You sold me a fairytale, Cam.
I don’t even know you.
How can we come back from this? The way she looked at me, the disgust and disappointment etched over her face.
This isn’t going to work. Even if she takes me back, the hurdle of my career and all the traveling, will be too much to handle. Sloane will never trust me again.
I should give up now. Leave Thunder Creek and never look back. Forget about her and what we had.
My body tenses, a dull throbbing at my temples thudding with each pulse of my heart.
I don’t deserve her and I know it. I should have left well enough alone. But I couldn’t stop myself from taking a bite of the forbidden fruit.
You didn’t have to eat the whole damn apple.
Too late now.
I ate the apple.
Tasted it. Licked and sucked the sinfully sweet juices, bit into the ripe, tender flesh.
Swallowed the fruit down, bite after bite, making it part of me.
The whiskey’s catching up, finally doing its job. My arms grow heavy and the room’s starting to spin. I flop my arm out and fumble for my cell, tapping the screen and bringing the phone to life.
