Recollections

The Time We Took Different Paths

The Time We Took Different Paths
(song of the chapter: Don't Speak // No Doubt)

It's been seven months since Austin's father, Harold, passed away.

I am no one to tell anyone how long the mourning process is supposed to take but I'm losing my shit. Austin's job has threatened to fire him on several occasions recently, and I'm sure that if his boss hadn't of been such great friends with Harold, he would've been a goner by now.

Everything about him is just different now. He doesn't seem to care much about anything lately, including me. Nightly, I cook dinner for the two of us and if he's even home in time for dinner he doesn't eat. The nights that he's not home in time for dinner, he comes home extremely late and smelling of liquor. He's no longer sleeping in the bed with me, but instead on the couch in the living room. I've tried talking to him about it; the drinking, staying out late, the loss of his father. Austin isn't looking to talk.

I don't know where else to turn. I've tried to confide in Candice but she told me to give him time. She has no idea how bad it's become. Poor Elena, my best friend, I don't have the heart in me to tell her that her big brother has turned to alcohol.

Blinking back to reality I stare at him sitting on the couch. His face is completely stone cold and his lifeless eyes, that were once blue but are now hollow, are staring through the television as if it were turned off.

"Austin." I call out, continuing to stare at the back of his head. When he doesn't respond, I call his name another two more times before he bothers to glance in my direction. When his eyes land on me, he stares at me the same way he was looking at the t.v. There was a time where I was the only thing he saw. But somewhere between now and then, he's changed. I've changed.

I mumble a goodbye to him and tell him I'll be home in a few hours. He doesn't bother asking where I'm off to.

**

I'm not sure how long I walked. My feet just kept moving further down the sidewalk as far away from that damned apartment as they could carry me. Once I'm far enough that I can catch my breath, I scan my surroundings. There's an Applebee's across the busy intersection, and I settle on the low key restaurant.

The bar inside the restaurant isn't very crowded. In fact, neither is the restaurant in its entirety--the whole place is pretty relaxed. As soon as I'm settled into my seat the bartender is taking my drink order.

"Moscato." I tell him.

"And you can put that on my tab."

My eyes snap to the left, searching for the voice of whoever just offered to buy my drink. My gaurd is instantly up, because I know exactly how Austin gets when it comes to me being around other men. Then again, Austin doesn't really seem to give two shits about what I'm up to these days.

I'm staring at the profile of a man, who looks to be only four, maybe five years older than me. The shadow along his defined jaw can only be about a day's growth of stubble. His dark hair is gelled neatly to perfection and my eyes seem to be hypnotized as they watch his index finger slowly run along the rim of his glass over and over. He hasn't glanced up at me once, nor has he made any movements to move into the chair that's playing as a buffer between us.

Not sure where the nerve comes from but before I can stop myself I'm speaking up. "So you buy a girl a drink, but you don't speak to her. Does that usually work for you?"

"Well you're talking to me now, aren't you?" He has a good point. His rugged voice intrigues me slightly and he tilts his head sideways to glance at me. For the first time I get a decent look at his eyes. They're nothing like Austin's, whose are deep and full and more blue than a robin's egg.