For honor. For the future.
They were the words I lived by. The ones that had won me the election. They had earned me a seat amongst the country's leaders. They had kept the public's trust me in. But they were all lies.
Honor had left a long time ago...
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The office was dark. Shadows crept along the walls. They appeared like faceless creatures, biding their time. The small light cast from the lamp that sat on my desk did little to chase their presence away. I gripped the bottle of whiskey I'd ordered my driver to pick up before bringing me here. The bottle was cold against my touch. I opened it and poured a generous amount into the empty glass waiting on my desk.
Leaning back in my chair, I took a long drink. The burn that washed down my throat was comforting. I gulped down some more.
Movement caught my eyes across from my desk. I glanced at Mark as I set my glass back down. He was pacing the length of my office. A scowl pulled at his lips. I cleared my throat and he paused before glancing at me. His frown deepened as he caught sight of the drink in my hand.
"Don't give me that look, Mark," I muttered. "Not tonight."
The sting of the liquor lingered on my mouth. I pressed my lips together, savoring it.
"Getting drunk won't help Esa," He responded. An edge clung to his voice, blunt and cutting as he reminded me why I needed this drink in the first place.
My eyes narrowed as I took another sip. "Of course it fucking won't. Nothing will."
I knew he could see beneath the expressionless facade I wore. I knew he could sense the fury. It was there, churning deep within my chest. It took everything within me to contain it. It always did when something like this happened.
Ignoring it was one way to cope. Drowning it out with my usual indulgences was another. I preferred the latter, if I was being honest. Hence the drink that was now pressed to my lips again.
"This isn't your fault," Mark murmured, softer now. He was trying to calm me down. It wouldn't work.
I swallowed tightly before muttering against the glass, "I gave it to her. I handed her the drink."
"You didn't poison it."
I closed my eyes before finishing off the whiskey in my glass. "I might as well have."
Mark didn't argue with me. He knew it was pointless. No amount of words could erase the guilt I was feeling. Nothing could keep it from spreading within me. It grew as we sat in silence, infecting every one of my veins as it slowly bled into the anger that dwelt there. The combination of these emotions was overwhelming. The buzz I was beginning to feel from the liquor didn't seem to be doing its job tonight.
The grip on my glass tightened. I resisted the urge to pour another drink.
Instead, my eyes clamped tighter shut as the dull ringing that had been steadily growing at the back of my mind suddenly seemed to intensify. It became impossible to ignore as it echoed throughout my skull. I rose my free hand to my forehead before pressing my fingers into my temple.
I didn't want to think of what had happened tonight. I didn't want to think of Esa. I didn't want to remember her body laying stiff on the floor, her eyes unfocused, her lips steadily turning purple. I didn't want to think of that goddamn drink spilled just an arm's length from her, still held within her fragile fingers.
