As Sweet As Can Be

Introduction.

"You're a great man, Toby. Did I ever tell you that? Because you are." I slurred towards the bartender as he refilled my glass. He looked at me, concern was clear in his near black eyes.

"Yes Kevin, in fact, you have told me about four times by now. Are you okay?" He asked, or at least I am sure he asked. I would not know, everything seems to be moving so slow and my mind cannot comprehend a lot right now.

I nodded and let out a grunt. I am drunk, its 2 am and I have no where to go. I have been drinking for nearly the past month and a half and I have not seen my kids in two. Why may you ask? Well, my wi- Nora, decided it would be okay to cheat on me, meanwhile we have two kids together. Long story short, I found out, we argued, she kicked me out and kept the kids. It kills me terribly that I cannot see their faces. I was always so close with my kids, Evelyn, who is 6, and Dennis, who is 9. No matter how much alcohol I consume, I can never erase the image of Evelyn crying and begging me to stay. I took another swig of my drink, as if the bourbon is the answer to all pain.

"We are going to be closing shortly, Mr. Brimmer." Someone spoke. I lifted my head slowly to look at the mystery person ahead of me. It was not Toby, but another bartender, an older one with an old fashioned looking mustache. His hair was gelled back in a 1980's greaser style while his eyes held this distant emotion within them. It was a cold stare, I could not look him in the eyes.

I stood up and the gravity and alcohol mixed hit me, nearly causing me to fall over. My hand reached for the counter and I closed my eyes for a quick few seconds, taking a deep breath. I have no where to go. The thought of having to go back to the bridge for another restless night doesn't sound so pleasing.

I pulled out a $50 bill and slapped it onto the counter. "Keep the change, for your worries." I spoke to the man, who still held the same cold stare. By the way Toby looked at me from down the bar, I don't know if what I said sounded like what I was trying to say. Eh, I do not care. I stumbled out of the door, sucking up a big, deep breath of oxygen. It felt cold against my lungs, but I liked it.

It is a cold night, and even though it's late, there still seems to be some drivers. My skin has begun to feel cold and dry, but my insides feel warm, obviously from the effects of alcohol. My thin fall jacket is just not doing much for the cold November air.

Where did I go wrong? Why me? I miss my family. These are the thoughts that consume my head these days, drunk or not. I have been drinking a lot lately. I had lost my job as a psychology professor a month prior to my divorce with Nora, probably why she was so insistent on f*cking other guys behind my back. I remember when I came home early that day from my part time job as a cashier, I caught them right there on the living room couch. It all made sense then and there. All the unnecessary appointments and errands, the mood swings, the lack of affection. Before, it hadn't occurred to me that that would be why my wife wouldn't look me in the eyes as she told me about her upcoming 'appointments'. "Why?" Was all I could say. The horrified expressions on their faces when they seen me standing by the doorway and the anger and hurt that stirred within me will never be forgotten.

A couple of my friends have been generous enough to let me sleep on their couch once or twice a week, its not much, but its better than nothing. They all say they are worried about me, that I should get some help. But honestly, I feel as though I have hit rock bottom, and I do not know where to go from here. I have seen one therapist and even though I made a promise that I would go back, I never did.

As I staggered down the street, with my half empty bottle of whatever held loosely in my left hand, I tripped. It happened so fast, I cannot even remember falling. I landed face first, my once half empty bottle now completely empty. I groaned in pain as I attempted to stand back up. My hands were bleeding from scraping them against the cement, I could feel the pain shooting up my legs as I tried to straighten them out. My knees were most likely bleeding too.

"F*cking Christ." I swore at the ground. What else could go wrong. I dusted my hands off on my sides and continued to walk. A black car with all tinted windows pulled up next to me. For a quick moment I thought that this is where it all ends, but then the window rolled down.

"Hey, you alright?" The woman asked me as she attempted to get a good look at me. She eyed me down from head to toe but did not say a word after that. I contemplated on what to answer her with, the alcohol was still fresh in my system and I can barely speak. So I just nodded my head, signalling yes.

The woman nodded back at me, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. "Are you drunk?" She locked her eyes with mine, awaiting an answer. I know she already knows the answer, but I nodded anyways. Even in my drunken state, I can still see that her eyes were the purest blue. "Where are you heading? I can give you a ride.." She trailed off at the end. Her voice was smooth and unsure.

"I am going to the bridge." I spoke, my voice raspy.

"Hop in."

I got into her car, struggling a bit at first, but I still got in. The warm air hit me fast when I closed the car door, and we drove in silence. The houses and trees whizzed passed us as I stared out the window. The trees appeared warped and twisted as I examined them with a fuzzy feeling.

"Is someone meeting you at this bridge?" The woman's voice cuts through my thoughts.

"Turn left. And no, I'm sleeping there." I replied, vastly ashamed of my living arrangements. She pressed on the brakes, causing me to jolt forward.

"I am sorry, you were not wearing your seatbelt. But I am not taking you to the bridge, you are drunk and alone." She said before driving straight ahead. I buckled up my seatbelt and spoke.

"Where are we going?" I asked. I suddenly began to feel tired. My eyes felt droopy, and my limbs felt limp. She ignored me and just kept driving.

About five minutes of silence later, we finally pulled into a driveway. I assumed it was her house. It was a white two story house with what looks like a big backyard. Small trees lined her driveway, she had a garden on the right side, and a swing set along with a fire pit on the other.

We stepped out of her vehicle and a dog instantly started barking, causing my head to pound. "Chill out Lincoln, its just me." The woman yelled at the dog, he stopped barking as soon as she petted his head.

The pounding in my head stopped shortly after, but was replaced with a bile taste in my mouth and a sick feeling in my gut. I am going to throw up. Before I could even try to control it, it all came spilling out right onto her clean cut grass. I fell onto my hands and knees and just let it keep coming.

When I did finish puking I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes tightly. I was panting trying to catch my breath. I felt the sweat in my forehead, yet I felt so cold. I hate this feeling the most, but its what I have become used to.

Even though my vision is blurred, I could still see her stand in front of me. She had a bottle of water in one hand and a towel in the other. I had not notice her leave to go get these items.

She tossed the bottle at me and dropped to her knees beside me. "Look at me." She spoke, snapping her fingers in front of my face. I blinked a few times before looking at her in the eyes. I really did love her eyes, they were just something else. "What's your name?" She asked. I sat up slowly and grabbed the water bottle and drank most of it.

"Kevin." I breathed out, and just like that, I passed out in the blink of an eye.