Wide awake

Chapter Fifty One. Double-Stuf Oreos

E.P.O.V

Sunlight filtered in through an open sliver in the heavy curtains and bathed my sofa in a dusty beam. I swiftly closed my eyes as I heard her footsteps approaching the front door. I kept my breathing steady and knew she'd think I was asleep-I always made it a point to feign slumber when she left the house in the mornings. I knew where she was going, and I had only stopped her once. 

But I almost wished I hadn't. She had gone the whole day and night without liquor, but her body had become so fucking dependent on the alcohol that the withdrawals incapacitated her. She couldn't lift her glass of water without her tremors spilling it over the rim, and she couldn't even keep it down when she eventually managed to drink it. So the next morning, I just acted like I was asleep when she left. I couldn't stop it, and I couldn't watch her leave to buy it. 

I had been in Chicago for six weeks, and I had been living here for four of those. My relationship with my mother had become touchy, at best. At worst, it was non-existent. I kept trying to take care of her, and she'd constantly push me away, demanding that I leave so she could just fucking rot away in solitude. It was the most pitiful and pathetic thing I'd ever seen. She wasn't lying when she'd told me that she spent her days drinking herself into oblivion.

I didn't stay because I wanted to watch her wither away-I stayed because I had to believe this life with her-the life I'd dreamt of for so long-wasn't as awful as it had seemed on the day that I'd arrived. I stayed because I was greedy and craved her acceptance. I stayed because my father had raised me to believe that this woman was infallible and pure and worthy of our unconditional love and respect. I stayed because I wanted it all back-which was ironic, because I had come to let it all go. 

The day I'd mailed the letter to Bella, I felt a little piece of my soul die. Not only was I breaking my promise to her, but I had no idea when or if I'd ever go back to Forks. Truthfully, I existed day by day because living in the immediate present was the only way of retaining a fraction of optimism. I could imagine her reading it, and I loathed being that motherfucker who probably broke her heart. A little voice in my mind wondered if she wouldn't be better off without me anyways. After all, I was the only thing holding her back from getting better, having basically threatened to leave her if she ended up surrendering to the assistance of some stupid fucking shrink. Looking back, it was probably an unforgivable method of controlling her and binding her to me by limiting her options, and now I found myself hoping that she didn't listen to a word I'd said-now that I wasn't there to help her myself. I didn't let these thoughts wander for long, because I couldn't bear to think of Bella finding somebody better once she could, although I knew she deserved it. I'd always known. This whole fucking fiasco only further proves that. I couldn't decide if I wanted her to realize it or not.

After resolving to stay in Chicago with my mother, I'd done some shopping for this shithole. It felt wrong using the credit card that Carlisle had given me for emergencies, but I reasoned that he made a whole shitload of money anyways. I'd find a way to pay him back for it all later, because I couldn't buy anything with her money.

When I'd asked my mother how she managed to survive with no job, her answer had enraged me. My father had a policy that she received after his death, and the homeowner's insurance on my burned and ruined childhood home had wielded a hefty sum as well. She had been just fucking leeching off of these funds to feed her habits for the last ten years. It was disgusting and insolent, and if I hadn't thought it possible to lose any more respect for her than I'd already had, I was proven wrong. She had been ashamed to admit how the money that had been intended to put our lives back together had basically just been wasted on her addiction. That was how I had stopped her from drinking for that one day. I'd used her guilt over the money to convince her not to buy any more liquor.