Tennessee Whiskey

My Give a Damn's Busted

I stepped out of the shower, wrapping a big cheetah print towel around my body. My wet hair hanging down my shoulders, dripping. I wiped my hand across the vanity mirror. I was looking somewhat like a human being again. I had eaten some leftovers from the other night and chugged a bunch of water before I took my shower. Popping some Advil for the headache. I dried off and got dressed in some comfy clothes. Black yoga pants and an old sweatshirt from college. I ran a comb through my hair and put it up in a messy bun. Slathering some moisturizer on my face, I decided it was good enough. I needed to collect my thoughts and get myself together before I even attemtped to reach out to Brantley. I wasn't sure if I should go over tonight or give it a day. It was something that should be done in person. Plus I didn't even have his number. I think that was something I should get, with all things considered. 

I grabbed a quick snack. It felt like I hadn't eaten in years, when really it was just because I had been sleeping all day. I threw on my Converse and grabbed my keys from the table next to the front door. I was going to go over tonight. Lindsay had said to earlier when she was here. And she was right. I wanted to clear the confusion before he was going out on tour. Whatever that meant for the situation. 

I drove those backroads from memory from the night before. I was hoping I was going in the right direction. I could see the black metal mailbox with a few flowers around it. The iron gate open as usual. I pulled in, taking a deep breathe as I drove all the way up to the house. There was a light on in one of the rooms, but nothing else. Only the Ford Raptor in the driveway. I cut the engine and got out, going up to the top of the stairs. You could barely make anything out inside, just a small glow coming from the back by the hallway. I knocked on the sliding glass door. Waiting a few minuets for someone to come and answer. No such luck. I knocked a little louder. When that didn't work, I decided I would let myself in. I closed the door quietly and set my keys on the coffee table. I walked through the living room and dining area. Peering down the hallway, I realized the light was coming from Brantley's room. I continued to quietly make my way closer to his door, when I heard talking. I slowly came up to the door. It was open. I peeked around the corner to see Brantley sitting on his big king size bed, talking on his phone to a female. 

I stepped back so that he wouldnt see me, my back against the wall, eaves dropping on the conversation.

"Amber, you need to explain to me why, when I went to the bank today, your name is still on my account. And why you are withdrawing money like it is going out of style." 

I could hear whining from the other end of the phone. Brantley slammed his fist against the wall above his headboard, causing me to jump. He didn't even finish the conversation before throwing his phone across the room, where it hit the big comfy chair by the window. I waited a minute until I knew the coast was clear, taking a deep breathe. I stepped in to the doorway, Brantley still sitting on his bed. His head shot up and his green eyes caught mine. 

"Hannah," He looked surprised. Fixing his black baseball cap, he stood up. 

"Hey, I, ummm, I wanted to come talk to you. Maybe clear some things up." I was hoping Brantley would be willing to listen.

"Now's not a good time." 

"It'll only take a minute. I promise." I replied, playing with my hands. 

"Hannah, you walked out in the middle of us fooling around. I don't think there is much to explain here." He stood leaning against his bed, playing wih his rings. 

"Brantley, I really do want to apologize and..." But he cut me off, walking closer to me.

"I said I don't want to fucking hear it right now." He looked down at me, his voice raised. 

His voice had made me jump a little. I didn't know what to do. I was on the verge of tears, when I decided to let it all out, even if he 'didn't want to fucking hear it right now'. " Fuck you. Honestly. You think getting up in the middle of what was going on last night was what I had wanted to do. I would have loved nothing more than to have you banging me all over this bedroom while there were tons of people out there, including your mama. But you have no idea what I have been through this last year. You have no idea that I feel like less of a person because my fiance was fucking some girl on the side the entire time we were engaged. I had to pick up my life and move it back here, all alone. My family questioning whether I was the one who did something wrong. You have no fucking idea, Brantley. Because you never cared to ask me. You are so wrapped up in whatever you are going through, that you not once asked me why I suddenly jumped up and got dressed. You chose to be quiet. You chose not to follow me down to my car. You didn't stop me, Brantley. You. You are the only one to blame here. So whether you want to fucking hear it right now or not, I don't give a gosh dang fuck."

Tears were flowing, anguish visible on my face. We stared at eachother for a while. Neither one of us speaking. I furiously wiped the tears away, willing them to stop. I was defeated once more, exhaustion beginning to take over my body. Brantley broke the tension, stepping closer to me. I looked up at him through cloudy vision. He grabbed my face with his right hand and fiercely kissed me, not even waiting for permission to slip his tongue in to my mouth. I stood frozen for a minute, before I decided to give in. He picked me up and threw me on to his big plush bed like he had done the night before. 

"I don't want to bang you all over the bedroom. I want to make love to you right here in this bed." Brantley gazed down at me.

That night, I didn't walk out in the middle of anything.