Hey Bartender

3: When You Were Mine

SOOKIE

I'm not really sure how I feel about Eric being in my apartment. The hangover is a bitch and I'm grateful to him for stopping Preston from taking me home last night. As good looking and charming as Preston was, I'm in no condition to be getting involved with anyone. It dawns on me that even though Debbie is a crazy bitch, she's still more desirable than I am.

If Eric's smart he'll get the hell away from me. I obviously have nothing good to offer anyone I get romantically involved with. Other than being abusive in some sort of way, the thing all my exes have in common is me. While it's true I didn't ask for the things that happened to me, I do have some responsibility there.

The sad thing is, I don't really know any other way. Eric is the best of the bunch and I can say with absolute certainty now that I am damaged goods. He used to get furious with me for saying that about myself but I know it's true. I've always known. If he thinks he's going to be some white knight that saves me from myself and my horrible past, he's sorely mistaken.

"You don't have to stay," I tell him since it's nicer than telling him to get out.

"Are you telling me to leave?" he asks, arching an eyebrow.

Yes.

"No," I reply.

"Sounds to me like you are. Lucky for you I've never been good at listening to you," he smiles.

"I remember." I reach for the pepper and shake some onto my fries.

"So, what happened to the last bad life choice?" he asks after a moment of silence.

"You mean what caused the drinking? My ex left me for the crazy bitch he was seeing before me. I sure can pick 'em." I drag a few fries through the puddle of ketchup in front of me and stuff them in my mouth.

"That blows," he sighs. "If we're talking about sucky life shit, my son lives full time in London."

"That does suck," I agree. I pick up the takeout container and coffee to go to the dining room. The window is floor to ceiling with a nice view of downtown. It's a nice apartment, really. Much nicer than a cake decorator should be able to afford, anyway.

"That's alright, according to you he's ugly like me, so..." Eric follows me into the dining room. I can hear the smile in his voice.

"He'll get used to it." I sit down and take a bite of my sandwich. Part of me is curious about the last fifteen years of his life but I'm more concerned about sucking him down with me.

I remember everything I said last night. It's obviously time to call Dr. Fant. I haven't seen her in almost two years. I started seeing her after Bill. The shots of Crown were just the beginning of the way I dealt with that. I was really self-destructive for almost two years before Jason gave me the option of getting help or he was going to lock me up for the prescription drugs I had in my possession without a prescription.

"I did," he shrugs and takes a seat across from me. "What else is new with you? What did you do after I moved to Europe?"

"I went to LSU for a while. Then Gran got sick so I moved back to take care of her. She died seven months later. I ended up moving to Mississippi with Bill Compton–" Eric's glare cuts me off. He hated Bill. It turns out to be for good reason. "He's the one I filed charges against."

"Good. Something tells me they didn't fuckin' stick," he grumbles. "Mom passing is what got me back to Louisiana."

"What happened to her?" I didn't know his mom died and it actually makes me sad. She treated me like a daughter.

"Breast cancer," he informs me. "She battled with it for close to two years. She used to tell my wife she needed to be more like you," he chuckles. "The final straw was when Mom called her Sookie a month or so before she passed. We were doomed from the beginning though."