Darling

Chapter 22

"So let me get this straight," Aubrey starts.

I hurry through the aisles of my local grocery store, checking off ingredients in my head for the dinner I plan to make this evening for Hailee and me.

"You're asking me for space? You haven't answered any of my calls in three days!"

"Aubrey," I sigh, bagging a couple of limes. "You just don't understand."

Many of the avocados are too firm, so I squeeze my way through all of them, checking for the ripest ones. All the while, Aubrey chews me out over the phone.

"You're right. I don't understand Margot. You want space? You live like two thousand miles away!"

"Yeah, I know, it sounds bad," I say, wandering over to the wine aisle.

While Aubrey continues her lecture in my ear, I browse the store's small selection of wines. With the week I've had, I figure a couple of glasses over dinner to settle my mind won't hurt. I grab the bottle with the most appealing label and scurry to checkout.

I manage to catch the last few words of Aubrey's lecture. She ends her tirade on a surprisingly benevolent note.

"I just worry so much about you, Go. We all do."

I give a polite smile to the cashier checking me out while fumbling through my bag for my wallet.

"Yeah, thanks. Look, Aubrey. I have to go."

Before she can say another word, I hang up, handing the unamused cashier my card. I stuff what I can into my backpack before stepping out and heading to my apartment. My headphones thump in my ears, blocking out the busy sounds of my neighborhood.

Once I get home, I immediately begin cooking- thankful that I'm able to finish in time for when Hailee is supposed to arrive. I'm pleasantly surprised with how dinner came out, my stomach grumbling with anticipation.

After half an hour of waiting at the table for Hailee to arrive, I subdue my grumbling stomach with a few bites of my homemade guacamole and chips, worried it'll be rude to start eating without her.

When another hour goes by, I send her a text asking when she'll be here, but it goes unanswered for hours.

I wonder why she decided not to come over. Was it something I said during our dinner? Something I did? When a few more texts are sent with no reply, I give up and have a few bites of dinner.

The bottle of wine on the kitchen counter is calling my name, and I answer, taking it with me to my office where I can get some lesson planning done. Technically, my apartment is a two bedroom, but this second room might as well be a closet. I can barely fit my desk and a chair in here, since I refuse to get rid of some of my old junk from college. Boxes of books are stacked upon one another, college notebooks, textbooks, old t-shirts, and family photos all tossed in along with them.

I sip on the bottle of wine mindlessly, managing to get a considerable amount of work done. By the time I shut my laptop for the night, I'm surprised to discover I've drank almost all of the bottle.

While cleaning my mess in the kitchen, I take note of the warm, relaxing, fuzzy feeling in my chest. The anxious thoughts and lonely feelings that usually occupy my mind aren't so prevalent anymore, either.

Why did I ever stop drinking again?

I give up cleaning after a few minutes, deciding instead to down the rest of the bottle and shower before bed. Not even five minutes goes by after I get out of the shower before I drift off to a deep, alcohol-induced sleep.

It only feels like I've been asleep for a few minutes when I'm awoken by a knock on the door.

I check my phone, the bright screen making me squint in the darkness. 12:37 am.