Finally Grounded (Sequel To The One Who Grounds Me)

Chapter Fifty-Three

Tristan

I tried to track her down, but her phone was unavailable. She didn't go back to Cathy's. I checked everywhere even her college but she wasn't there either.

I tried the restaurant she worked but nothing. I lost her completely. When I told her I needed space I didn't mean that I wanted things to end between us. I just wanted some time to think that's all.

I wanted to be with her so much it fucking hurts. To numb the pain, i drowned my self in a bottle of whiskey. It's been a week since she walked away and yet....

The sound of the door buzzer went off. Frowning, I pushed myself off the floor. The liquor bottles was scattered everywhere, but I didn't care. I didn't care about anything anymore.

Staggering down the hall, I headed for the front door. Not checking to see who it was, I just opened the door. Martha stood on the other side with a perturbed expression on her face.

I haven't spoken to her since she came clean about murdering my mother. Well it was self defence but at the same time it was murder.

I was mad at her, because she kept something as important as that from me for years. Not to mention she only took care of me. Because she was feeling guilty! I gritted my teeth.

I wasn't in the mood to deal with any of this.

Her head snapped up. "Tristan." She said breathlessly.

Fuck the pleasantries. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you."

"I'm not in the mood Martha. Please go away." I said, through clenched teeth.

"Please Tristan. I just want to talk.... just please."

"Just please go away!" My voice broke.

Her lips wobbled. "No! I won't leave until you talk to me!"

I ruffled my hair. "Martha I can't talk right now okay."

She didn't even listen to me. Instead she slid past me and walked into the house. She gasped in shock. "What the hell happened here!" She asked in horror.

Brushing past her, I headed back into the sitting room.

"Yah Tristan! What happened here? And where is Tiana?"

At the sound of her name. The pain returned. Fisting my hands at my sides, I quicken my pace. Inside the living room, I grabbed a fresh bottle of whiskey from the small bar.

Martha looked at me in sympathy. Guess my silence spoke volume. Taking the bottle from my hand, she pulled me into a hug. At first I stiffen but then I slowly relaxed in her hold.

Tears I've been holding back, started to flow freely. Like a child, I clung to her. Not caring how I sounded.

I sobbed loudly.

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