Just Me Again.

53: Be Mine

MARIA WAYNE

Charlie was scared to tell Marcus – she wasn't sure how he would react. She told me that she brought up having more kids but Marcus mostly dodged such topics. She is scared of how he would react – what if he is not happy. She has been stressing over this over the past few days and it has made her cranky and depressed. I told her that it wasn't good for the baby and herself – that she should tell Marcus as soon as she can. I was sure that Marcus would react differently than she thinks he would. I know why Marcus never brought up the topic of having more kids with Charlie – because, he is scared. He lost Susan when he had Kathie, now he is afraid of losing Charlie. I am sure that he will be as happy as he should be. I asked Charlie to go back to Marcus and stay at his place for tonight and tell him that he is going to be a father. They need to talk it out. After a long talk, Charlie agreed to tell Marcus tonight. I once again told her how happy I was – I didn't want to make her feel that I was disturbed by the news. I was happy for her, but I felt empty inside – for myself. It was already very late and Marcus called a few times to make sure that everything is okay. I asked Charlie to leave as it was late and Marcus was worried about her. She agreed and left. Thankfully, Marcus lives in the same building, so I wasn't worried about her.

After she left, I felt horrible. I couldn't believe that I was feeling jealous of my friend – who is more like a family to me. How can I be like this? How can I be jealous of others' happiness? It isn't their fault that I can't experience being a mother. I felt guilty and disgusted by myself. I wanted to forget about it – I want to be happy for my friend. I frustratingly blew my cheeks out and walked to the kitchen. It has been so long since I last drank – I needed to drink. I wanted to feel numb even for a few hours. I need a distraction. After looking around the kitchen, I was finally able to find a beer bottle that Marcus brought the last time he came for dinner. I took the beer carton and brought it back to the lounge.

I sat on the couch, switched on the television, and started to drink. One after another – I didn't know when I had four bottles and decided to open the fifth one. I was already drunk and was struggling to open the bottle when I burped. "Oops," I said and laughed. At least now I had something to laugh about. I tried and tried but couldn't open the bottle, so I decided to call for help. After struggling for a few minutes I was finally able to unlock my phone. I sighed and called Silas. After a few rings, he finally picked up, "Maria?" He sounded bewildered. "Is everything okay?" he asked. Ah – that's my Silas, always worrying about me.

"Yup!" I answered him. "I can't open it," I complained as I tried to twist the cap of the bottle. "My hand hurts, but it won't open," I said as I held the phone between my shoulder and my ear and tried to open the cap of the beer's bottle. "Maria?" He asked after a brief pause. "Hmm," I replied as I kept trying to open the bottle. "Are you drunk?" He asked me. I chuckled, "Yes," I replied. "Where are you?" He asked. "Home," I replied. "I am coming." He replied quickly before he cut off the call.

After a couple of minutes, the doorbell rang. "That was quick," I mumbled and looked at my crutches lying on the floor. I sighed and tried to pick them up but my drunk self couldn't even do that properly. I huffed frustratingly as I couldn't reach my crutches – or was I even trying to get them? After a few seconds, the door opened and Silas walked in while breathing heavily. He looked at me and I am pretty sure he cursed in his mind. "Maria," He said softly and walked nearer to me. I narrowed my eyes, "How did you get in? Do you have the spare keys?" I asked him. He sighed and nodded as he picked the empty bottles of beer from the couch and put them on the table. "Why did you drink so much?" He asked as he sat beside me. I chuckled, "What? Now, I can't drink?" I asked sourly. "There are already so many things I can't do – please, don't add drinking on that list," I told him. He didn't reply immediately. He kept looking at my face before he pushed back the hair from my face and smile. The smile was not his usual – happy smile. It was more like a sad pitiful smile. "What?" I asked him irksomely. I didn't like the way he was looking at me – it was almost like he could read me. It was like he could see the pain I was in.