Promise?

Chapter 11

Once home, Chloe changed into her sweats and sat on her window with a bottle of wine.
Her mind was in a mess; just as her life was. She wondered how she always managed to get herself in the worst situations. She was just so tired. Tired of everything.

She had a lot of thinking to do.
But she knew what was bothering her. She was angry on herself. She was angry for being a coward. She was angry for not being able to let the past go. She was angry because she was so weak, thinking or already assuming that she would fall for him. She was angry and that was it.

She looked at her bottle of wine and remembered how Alan hated it when she drank just because she was depressed. He didn't mind a drink or two for lightening up on the weekends or parties. But he hated it that she made it a habit to drink when she was depressed.

Looking at the bottle, she laughed bitterly. How she wanted him to see her like this and scold her. Then tell her that he was disappointed and then tuck her into bed. She loved it when he got angry. Because then she could tell herself that he cared.

But he wasn't here. And it was because of her. Staring out at the dark night, she felt weak and pathetic. Something she never wanted to be. But something she had become. She rubbed her face with both her hands and tried to control her breathing as she loathed herself mentally.

She'd had enough. And she'd been a coward far too long.
It was too stupid of her to behave like this.
She was being a hypocrite.
She called him a runner and accused him of that all these years. But wasn't she doing the same thing now?

She didn't know how long she must have sat on her window, the wine bottle empty a long time ago. But sleep wont come to her. So she gazed at the stars, the moon. She listened to the rustling of leaves as little gusts of wind blew like it was smiling watching the moonlight kiss the ground in the most beautiful way.

She watched the sky bleed as the moonlight had to part away from the ground, for the seperation of a day, but promising the same love as night came.

She wondered if the sky changing its colours perhaps depicted the story of the Earth and the moonlight. Mysterious, dark and promising, depicting their primal love at night. Red depicting tears of blood at separation but the promise of eternal love and passion. Blue as it wept, for the pain that they felt while not together.

She didn't know when she fell asleep, but was woken up by the doorbell.

Not just one, but a series of doorbells followed by loud knocks.
Her mind a hazy mess, ached from the hangover of last night; and the pounding at the door didn't help.
Try as she might, she couldn't keep her eyes open due to exhaustion and the entire bottle of wine she so easily chugged down yesterday.

Cursing herself for her stupidity, she got up and tried to get down and reach the door unscathed. Though that did not turn out that well as she bumped a couple of times trying to compose herself and her wobbly legs.
She reached the door finally, and swung the door open with a huge frown on her face, irritated on who was so persistent to meet her in the morning.

Her eyes bulged out at the sight of the person standing at the door; and the same expression was probably mirrored by the one standing in front of her.

There stood Alan, with a very shocked look on his face, staring intensely at her.

"What have you done to yourself?" he all but shouted.

Chloe still shocked, couldn't seem to move. She stood there looking at him, her mouth slightly agape. She must have been a sight she thought.

Impatient at her lack of reply, Alan moved into the house and closer to her and asked again, "Chloe, are you okay?"
And while he was at it, he must have smelt the alcohol on her as realisation dawned on his face and a dark scowl appeared in place of the worry.
"Have you been drinking?" he couldn't help but shout. Or is it better if I ask, "How much have you been drinking?"

"Are you even okay? Have you even slept? What are you doing to yourself?" he continued getting more and more frustrated.

Chloe, in the mean time, was a wreck. She was flooded with different feelings at the same time; and the hangover didn't really make it easier to figure things out.

She was angry, for he was treating her like a child. Scolding her for being a little careless.
She was irritated, because he had no right to act like it was all her fault and make her feel guilty.
And somewhere, she was happy. Because she knew that he still cared.

And despite of feeling all of it, she stood there, looking at him wide-eyed and guilt stricken.

When Alan looked at her dishevelled appearance, he still couldn't help but think that she was beautiful.
She probably was a sight to see with her wild, untamed bed hair, her luscious and a little plump lips and her eyes. God her eyes!
You love just once. She used to say. And even if you manage to fall in love with another person, its never the same.
He'd laugh at her for believing that.
But right at this moment, he knew. He knew he could never love anybody like he loved her.

Deciding to be angry later; he came forward and sighed. " Are you okay Chloe?" he asked again, looking at her intensely as one finger traced her cheek.
"You seem like you haven't slept properly for days." he continued as his finger traced the bags below her eyes. "You seem to worry too much. You know how I hate it." he said, tracing the slight wrinkles on her forehead. "You don't seem to laugh anymore. You had two really beautiful curves when you used to smile." he said tracing his finger just beside her lips. His finger hesitantly traced her bottom lip, and just as it came it was gone. He restrained himself from doing anything stupid and took a step back.
"What are you doing Chloe. You look miserable. And as much as you'd like to admit otherwise, I know you feel miserable too. I hate seeing you like this. And it really fucks my mind seeing you do it to yourself. Just please, talk to me." he completed exasperated.

Breath caught in her throat, Chloe did just one thing she think would have been right.

She hugged him.

She hugged him like her life depended on it, for all the years lost in which she could be with him, she hugged him recollecting how it felt and how he'd changed but for the better, she hugged him to tell him that she was sorry, because she needed her bestfriend as much as she denied herself, and she hugged him tight saying that she was happy to see him again and asking him to stay.
And it all felt right.