Broken Glass

Chapter 20: "A Father's Pain"

I sat on the edge of my bed, the whiskey bottle in front of me, as I stared at the photo of my wife. It was a ritual I had grown accustomed to, trying to numb the pain of her loss with the burning sensation of the liquor. It never worked, but it was all I knew how to do.

As I gazed at her smiling face, I couldn't help but think of Emily. She looked so much like her mother, with the same bright blue eyes and curly brown hair. It was like looking at a ghost, a constant reminder of what I had lost.

I took another swig of the whiskey, feeling the familiar burn in my chest. I didn't know how to deal with the pain, how to process the grief that still lingered inside me. So I drank, trying to dull the ache that had become my constant companion.

The room began to spin, and I felt myself getting lightheaded. I lay back on the bed, the photo still clutched in my hand, and let the darkness wash over me.

The next thing I knew, I was being jolted awake by the sound of a motorcycle engine outside. I groggily sat up, rubbing my eyes. What time was it? I looked around, trying to get my bearings. The clock on my nightstand read 3:45.

Panic set in as I realized I had overslept. Emily was already back from school. I stumbled out of bed, trying to shake off the haze of the hangover. I made my way to the door, still feeling the effects of the whiskey.

As I stumbled out into the bright sunlight, I saw Emily getting off a motorcycle, her backpack slung over her shoulder. I sat down on the porch step, my eyes fixed on her, a look of curiosity on my face.

"Hey, kiddo," I said, my voice still slurred from the hangover. "I saw you getting off a motorcycle. Did you make a new friend?"

I narrowed my eyes slightly, trying to focus on her. Who was this person she was with? And why was she riding a motorcycle to school? I felt a pang of concern, my mind racing with questions. But as I looked at Emily, I saw the anger and frustration in her eyes, and I knew I had to tread carefully.