‴ Wild Flower

ten

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chapter ten
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THE DOOR CREAKED OPEN LATER THAN I EXPECTED, and I instinctively turned toward the sound, pulling my knees tighter to my chest where I sat on the floor. I was packing the last things that had left,

Tristan stepped in, shrugging off his coat, his broad shoulders filling the doorway like they always did.

I smelled the mix of cologne and whiskey. He told me he was grabbing lunch with his friends after work, i figured that it was included a few drinks too.

"Hey." He said, i stood up to greet him.
He pulled me into him, his hands cupping my face, his lips finding mine with an urgency I wasn't prepared for. His hands were warm, firm, but the scent of whiskey on his breath made my chest hollow.

He couldn't know, so it wasn't his fault. He couldn't know how he made me feel, that's what i said to myself. I didn't pull away, though. I let him kiss me, let him hold me, because it was easier that way.

"Missed you," he murmured against my lips, his hands sliding down to my waist, pulling me closer.

"I was cold," he said out of nowhere, kissing me again this time slower, softer, like he was trying to apologize with every touch. "Not empathetic, baby." He whispered as his lips trailed across my jaw.

I felt his arms tighten around me, and before I could react, he lifted me gently, settling me onto his lap as he sank onto the couch. His hands stayed on my waist, grounding me, his eyes searching mine.

"I didn't handle it right," he said, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face. "I should've been there for you better. I'm sorry."

I smiled faintly, forcing the corners of my lips to lift even though i felt it again. My usual sadness.

I smiled just like he wanted me to. Because that's what i always do, I let him see the version of me he needed to see—the one who believed him, who felt better because of him. But deep down, this feeling was still there. It always was. A quiet ache buried so deep in my soul that nothing could fix.

And it had nothing to do with him. It was all me.

I felt broken, like something inside me had cracked long ago and no one ever noticed. It was always like that, i was sad. It wasn't even something specific.

Even then, wrapped in his warmth, I couldn't ignore the feeling that there was something wrong with me. something damaged and unfixable. So I smiled again, softer this time, just for him.

"It's okay," I whispered, letting my hands rest lightly on his shoulders. I let that slip because it was not really a big deal. I didn't want him to feel bad.

He kissed me again, his hands moving up my back, his warmth overwhelming. "You don't have to say it's okay," he murmured against my skin. "I just need you to know I'm trying. I'm trying to understand."

I nodded, swallowing hard as I leaned into him, letting his words and his touch wash over me.
It was obvious he was drunk, i could feel it.

The taste of him took me to places i didn't want to be in anymore. Because i knew what it did to people, i knew it the best.

The alcohol ruined my life, ruined my family's life, and on top of all, it ruined my dad's life. Forever.

Because once you get addicted, you can't come back.

You automatically give up on everything, including yourself, and put the addiction in the first place.

You let it control you. Change your whole life, and like what happened with my father, he gave up on everything. Even his own kids and wife.