I was waiting at our usual spot, phone in hand, my nerves twisting tighter with every call that went unanswered. Louis had promised he’d pick me up for our date, but he was almost an hour late. I sent him another message, but still… nothing.
Eventually, my worry overrode my pride, and I took a cab to his place. As soon as I reached his door, a sinking feeling weighed on me. I opened it slowly, stepping inside to the unmistakable stench of alcohol. My heart sank as I took in the sight of him sprawled across the couch, empty bottles strewn around, and the faint remains of vomit staining his shirt.
“Louis…” I whispered, kneeling beside him, my hand hesitating over his shoulder before I finally shook him gently. “Louis, wake up.”
He stirred, his eyes fluttering open, glassy and unfocused. He barely seemed to recognize me, his head rolling to one side as he muttered something incoherent.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
With more strength than I thought I had, I helped him to his feet, guiding him down the hall to the bathroom. He leaned heavily on me, barely able to stand. I helped him wash up, wiping his face with a damp cloth, offering him sips of water between bouts of dizziness.
Once I’d settled him in bed, he finally opened his eyes, looking at me with a bleary, half-awake smile. “You’re so pretty…” he mumbled, slurring the words. “Just like Mary.”
The name hit me like a slap. I froze, feeling a sudden chill settle in my chest.
“Mary?” I echoed, trying to keep my voice steady. “Is that who you see right now?”
He just laughed weakly, sinking back into the pillows. I stood there, silent, every bit of warmth and affection draining away as my hands curled into fists. I couldn’t believe it—after everything, he was comparing me to someone else. Someone I didn’t even know.
“Fine, Louis,” I whispered, voice trembling with anger and hurt. “If Mary’s who you want, then stay with her.”
I turned to leave, heart pounding, and headed for the door. Before I’d even made it outside, I heard him stumbling after me, calling my name. But as soon as I stepped out, the flashes of cameras went off, blinding me. Paparazzi surrounded us, shoving cameras in my face, questions cutting through the night.
Louis shoved his way between us, his anger barely restrained. He grabbed one of the photographers’ cameras, hurling it across the street, his voice seething. “Get out of her face!”
The man started shouting, and Louis squared up, fists clenched, ready for a fight. I reached out, grabbing his arm. “Louis, stop! This isn’t helping.”
He looked down at me, still breathing hard, his expression wild with rage. I led him back inside before things could escalate further, but once we were in his living room, I turned to face him, the disappointment and pain all bubbling to the surface.
“Louis,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. “You have to stop. The drinking, the drugs—it’s destroying you.”
He scoffed, crossing his arms, his face twisted in defiance. “I don’t have a problem, Izzy. I’m not some addict. I just… needed a drink. You wouldn’t get it.”
“Don’t do that,” I shot back, my voice shaking with frustration. “Don’t brush this off like it’s nothing. You promised me tonight, and this—” I gestured to the mess around us— “this is what I came home to.”
His eyes narrowed, a cruel edge slipping into his voice. “Oh, come on, Isabelle. Stop acting like you’re so perfect. You’ve got your own issues, don’t forget that. You want someone to fix? Try fixing yourself first.”
The words hit me like a punch, and I felt my breath catch. I swallowed, blinking back the sting of tears, trying not to let him see how much it hurt.
“I thought you’d want to be better,” I whispered. “For us. For yourself. But maybe I was wrong.”
He looked away, jaw clenched, and I could see the regret flicker in his eyes, but the anger had already drawn its line between us. I turned, grabbing my things, and walked out without another word.
The night air was cold as I stepped outside, wrapping around me like a shroud. I kept walking, head down, until I was out of sight, trying to ignore the ache in my chest.
