(18+ EXPLICIT CONTENT)
"I'm good at other things too, sweetheart," His voice was gruff and husky, my lips unconsciously parting in a daze. He's standing dangerously close to me, trapping me between him and my cupboards. The tension is suffocating an...
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The street lights flickered into the interior of my car as my glossy eyes threatened to cry. It was like all the feelings of dejection and misery had resurfaced after the months of deceiving myself. I wasn't alright; I was still numb and encaptured in this subtle state of melancholy. After the first couple sessions with Bridget, I thought I was capable of overcoming the affair. In the back of my mind, however, I knew the pain still ran deep and the image of them together confirmed it tonight.
My love for Will had still pumped through my veins, even if I so desperately tried to rid of it.
Therefore, opting to drowning my sorrows wasn't unjustifiable. The intense feelings of heartache were causing my hands to shake as the images of them in our bed flashed through my mind. I recalled the crazed expression on their faces, with their breaths obstructed, and a their bare skin spilling out of the sheets. Will was the first one to manifest his remorse and shame, instantly jumping off of her body.
The tear slipped out at that.
The red light lit up the entirety of my car as I wiped away the treasonous tear, swallowing the lump in my throat. The recollection of my hands skimming down the stairs shifted into my vision again, hearing his pattering feet directly behind me. He tried to calm me down, I remember, wanting me to hear him out and pressing his firm hand against the door. I had been so furious and disgusted, but the pain through my chest was the most notable.
Almost as painful as losing our child.
I shook my head at this and pressed the back of my hand to my mouth, hopelessly trying to suppress my feelings from the hospital. That was something I definitely didn't deal with correctly. I didn't even bring it up to Bridget due to the choking sensation I felt when I tried to utter the story. She was aware of the event, but provided time and consideration if it allotted during those sessions.
I never brought it up.
I pulled my car into one of the available parking spaces, glancing towards the large, red lit sign. It was one of the bars Bridget had recommended to me, convincing, "Girl you should definitely stop by there some time, they'll take care of you. They have good beers and a good playlist." Frankly, that was all I was looking for at this moment.
My attire wasn't exactly bar material, but with my emotions at bay, I had no care in the world. I strutted my tear-stained face into that bar, not even sparing a glance towards anyone that inhabited it. The hostess tried to greet me, but to her muted perplexion, I walked right past her and plopped down on one of the bar stools.
"Good evening, darlin'," the southern bartender tried to converse, wearing this toothy smile, "what can I make for ya'." My eyes slowly drew up towards him, my expression emitting only seriousness and muted constraint.
"Anything hard enough to make me forget my name," I deadpanned, folding my hands together as he widened his eyes in bewilderment. After a moment of observing my grave expression, he uncomfortably chuckled and nodded his head, noting that I was serious. I watched him as he began mixing something, before resting my face into my hands.
