If I’m going to quit, I might as well go out with a hurrah. Being sober for days sucks. The itch is like an urge that consumes me from the inside out. It won’t leave me until that burn tickles my throat.
The door opens and I sigh. Of course, Dad would return to ruin my fun. I understand the sudden hit with parenthood, but come on, we need a break from each other.
I need a break from hating my father because he’s her father.
I need a break from thinking he ruined my life.
I need a break from him. Full stop.
“I’m not interested in talks, Dad. Leave me the fuck alone.”
I expect him to reprimand me for ‘language’ in his stern politician voice, but there’s no answer.
Maybe he got the memo this time.
Small arms wrap around my waist from behind. “I’m not leaving you alone anymore.”
What the…? Am I getting drunk without alcohol now?
Either that or I’m going crazy, because nothing explains the soft hands resting on my stomach or the voice that should only visit in my dreams.
And my hell once I’m dead.
Because I have no doubt I’m going straight there. Do I regret it? For her, yes. For me, not at all.
I kind of made peace with my demons after long years of struggle, and they’re against the holy water idea.
My demons spill out to invade my space and whisper those thoughts that, while sinful, feel so fucking right.
One last time.
One last touch.
One last push into madness.
What do you have to lose?
It could be the demons or my demented mind, but I remain still, soaking in her warmth that’s creeping into me and filling me with a weird sense of comfort.
It’s when she tightens her arms around my waist that I realise it’s neither because of the alcohol or a dream, like the other time.
Kim is here and she’s hugging me.
I grab her hand and attempt to yank it. While a part of me wants her to stay there forever, this will only fill her with regrets later.
A moment of weakness will rule her life and before she knows it, all her actions will be eating away at her soul like cancer.
That’s how I felt after the kiss and the oral sex. I felt so much guilt towards her, it drew a hole in my chest and I had to fill it with bottles and bottles of alcohol.
Spoiler alert, it never worked.
She doesn’t release me, her clutch turning hard and unyielding while her chest presses against my back.
Fuck me.
“Let me go, Kim.” My voice is thick, wrong.
She shakes her head against my T-shirt.