Pursuing Pandora

Chapter 30

The ride home had quite me down. My thoughts drowned in the rhythmic thumps of the game Zara was playing on her phone. She has been so enthusiastic about getting in the taxi to munch down on all the juicy details of the date. My lethargic answers prompted her to delay her questioning for another time.

My throat is parched for a drink. My eyes wander to the liquor store on the other side of the street. The taxi has been stuck in traffic for a while now leaving me feeling restless inside. I could easily excuse myself and buy a miniature bottle of bourbon. I looked straight ahead to ignore the temptation but my eyes till wandering back to the neon signboard on the door.

Ben used to be the best-drunk therapist. I miss spewing bullshit and laughing at his mediocre jokes about the situation. He was always there. Now I don't know with whom to talk to; a cold headstone? My leg bounced rapidly as I struggle to patiently sit still. I don't know if the horn is blaring in my head or from the car behind us but it's testing my patience!

The taxi finally moved and the scenery changed to high-end retail stores and busy streets. I just closed my eyes for the rest of the ride, grabbing the seat cushion tightly to restrain myself from getting any other stupid ideas while Zara was in the car.

I debated in my head whether to stay at Ben's apartment till my headache subsides but decided against it as it will worry Zara even more. Letting Magda take care of her, I retired to my bedroom after exaggeratedly expressing how tired I was. Hopefully, it will deter her from checking up on me.

I crashed on the bed like a malfunctioning airplane ascending on water. On second thought landing headfirst into the pillows wasn't the smartest move. I rolled the coverlet along my legs and pulled one of the pillows over my head to drown out any noise. I had forgotten to pick up a bottle from the bar. The decanter sitting on my table was almost empty after having too many nightcaps. I crawled into my closet after drowning the spoonful of whiskey left at the brink. There was bound to be a flask somewhere in my closet.

I pulled out random boxes from the topmost shelf hoping to find something useful. I grabbed hold of a big one that sounded like it had a lot of stuff when I gave it a little jiggle. Pulling apart the tape, I was surprised by the jumble of souvenirs that I collected. It contained all all the things that had my favourite memories attached to it. There were concert tickets edged inside my journal with few pressed roses my brothers had given me on Valentine's day.

There were a few silly trophies and holiday cards I had received from my friends. I shifted on to other things in the box when I saw Mason's name written a few times in my book reminding me of the embarrassing crush I had one him when I was 15. It's absurd to think of him that way now after so many tears. He had flown to Cabo with Katie last weekend and I'm sure I'll be getting an invite to their engagement party in a few days. I have to think of an ostentatious gift for ruining his first proposal. My eyes briefly wandered to the black getaway bag that I that I readied this morning. Maybe not.

There was a black piece of leather jutting out from under the climate change banner I had made. I pulled out a worn-out black motorcycle jacket with a sports patch sewn on the inside. The silver buttons on the pockets had lost their shine and the colour fading near the zipper.

It was Victor's jacket. He had forgotten it in my room when he left. I didn't have the heart to burn it like the rest of the things he gave me. He used to love to see me wear it, his way of flaunting that I was his girl when we were around his friends. His smell had faded out just leaving a musty stench. The jacket was a bit creased up but still fit me perfectly. One trip to the drycleaners will restore it back to its original form.