Daddy Issues

23 - Quite the night

I know Dan's still in the house. Because I've been awake for a while now, but I haven't dared to face him yet. I wish I would have forgotten some parts of last night but I haven't. I remember everything from my happy drunken daze at the bar to everything that happened with Keith to Dan finding me.

I never would have told him about Jack if I hadn't been drunk. It just came out. After years of not talking about it. My stomach is filled with dread at what this will mean. I don't want to talk to him about it again, but I know he'll want to continue our conversation when I see him. But mostly, I'm so worried about what Mom will do. Will she be angry that I told him? I just hope Dan won't tell her. But he couldn't promise me he wouldn't.

My headache is killing me. That fucking tequila... I knew this would happen. I wish I had just stayed home yesterday. But I couldn't deal with it. I had to find a way to forget. Only it made everything worse.

Eventually, I do get up. Because I'm not going to be able to avoid Dan forever. I stumble to the bathroom and drink some water. Then, with great effort, I manage to undress and take a shower. I put on comfortable, clean clothes before I go downstairs. I don't care that I look horrible at this point. My face looks ashen and my eyes are red and puffy from all that crying yesterday. But at least I'm warm and clean again.

Dan doesn't notice me when I appear in the doorway. He's at the kitchen table, staring at his laptop before him. Working from home, I guess. Though he doesn't really seem to be doing anything, because he just keeps staring at his screen. He looks tired too.

'Hi, Dan,' I say, to let him know that I'm here. He snaps into attention and looks at me. An empathetic smile immediately makes its way to his face.

'Hey,' he says. 'How are you feeling?'

'Oh, you know. Terrible,' I say dryly. Dan blows some air out through his nose. Almost a chuckle. Then he gets up and moves to the counter.

'Why don't you go sit on the couch? I'll get you some aspirin. You think you can eat something?'

'Pff,' I mumble. 'I don't know.'

'I'll make you a sandwich, see if you can keep it down.'

'Okay.'

I could protest, tell him that he doesn't need to fuss over me. But honestly, I'm still exhausted. So I just turn around and head to the living room to lie down on the couch. At least I'm not really nauseous. That's a plus. But I'm not really hungry either.

I found my phone getting charged on my nightstand this morning. Dan mentioned he had it last night. But I don't know how he got it. I also still don't know how the hell he found me.

When Dan shows up with a plate with a sandwich, a large glass of water and some aspirin, I sit up a little straighter. I don't feel as at ease with him as I usually do. Last night was crazy. I shared so much with him. Cried like a baby. How can it be the same?

There's a lot of things I want to ask him too. Like how did he find me? How did he get my phone? Does he think I'm crazy now? But I settle on:

'Shouldn't you be at work?'

He hands me the glass of water and the aspirin and puts the plate on the coffee table. Then he takes a seat on the armchair beside the couch.

'I called in to let them know I had some personal issues to work through. I took the day off, I'll catch up on the hours later.'

God, I made the man take a day off. He looks as haggard as I feel. I need to stop sucking him into all my shit.

'I'm so sorry,' I say, before popping the aspirin into my mouth. 'Did you get any sleep after we got home?'