Midnight Tequila | Holy Trinity

Chapter Twenty Six

She had lost count how many shots she downed already, but the two empty bottles of tequila were vivid on her pool side table. The night was yet to begin, it was only six in the evening. It's been three days since she left Sandra completely. It was their mutual decision after all, but to say that she didn't miss her was a big amiss - a total lie that herself refused to believe in. She missed her - every bit of her. She missed her sly smile, her soft giggles, her witty remarks, she missed her soulful eyes; she missed Sandra. But that was it, missing her was the only thing that she could do, because she couldn't have her again. Cate took a shot and emptied it in one big gulp. She closed her eyes as she felt the burning and intoxicating sensation of the high-spirits flowing through her throat.

She regretted that night; she regretted the fact that she made love with Sandra, because Sandra was not free, she had Keanu and that fact swirled Cate's conscience. But a part of her was also thankful for it. She'd been celibate since she and the brunette officially broke up. Of course, there were various actors and actresses who tried to hit on her, tried to make a way inside her pants, tried to crawl on her bed, but no matter how hard she tried to want it, she would end up pushing them off. Her body and her soul wanted Sandra. There were nights when she would try to pick men or women, but when she would touch them and when their tongues would collide, Sandra's face would flash before her eyes and with that, she would stop. Even if their story ended eternity ago, touching other people still felt like she was cheating on her.

Cate couldn't exactly remember how many times she let a hundred break-up songs took the sassy summer heat of her room; Ten? Fifteen? Hundreds? Thousands? She lost count, honestly. Heartbreak wasn't real because it's not only the heart that suffers -  her whole body breaks into shards too. She have been cognizant about them, that they would be forever. Fuck made-up heavens, forever was just a chimera of pleasure: it was an illusion. Her sentiments were bottled in jars, but she didn't quite know that at the end, those jars would be broken into pieces.  Her love for Sandra was cradled by meters and lines, a little poesy and a bit dramatic.  Sandra was the shore and she was the bluish haze of waves inevitably reaching her - pursuing her each passing second, exhausted and almost at the verge of giving up, but never did. She never stopped loving her even if her whole body and heart wanted to. How could she unlove someone who made her love herself?

And now, she wanted to not remember the forenoon whispers they did; I love you was used by them for such a long time, until the saccharine flavor became untasteful and until I love you sounded like a joke. They used to lay in silence and it was like a lullaby for them,  something like lavender blue dilly dilly but as time passed by, the silence became so deafening like a strange metal rock to the extent that she could not hear the throbbing of her heart anymore.  With Sandra, Cate have seen stars and comets and galaxies dancing around her eyes, exploding into tidbits and dusts until those became a part of her memory. The roseate splendor of them should always be treasured, but now, she wanted to forget everything. And in hopes of doing so, she's drowning herself in tequilas once again.

Cate looked down at her phone when it started ringing. She wanted to shut if off, but the constant ringing continued like a broken bell in some unknown churchyard. With a sigh, she laid down on her pool lounger and she accepted the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, blondie."

She sighed on the phone, "What do you want, Aniston? And please, stop calling me blondie." She rolled her eyes as if the caller could see her.

"Don't roll your eyes on me. I know you're doing it."

"What do you want?"