“Most hurts now aren’t the kind that a disinfectant can fix. They’re the kind that turn you.”
He nodded slowly.
“Yeah, then let’s hope she gets a chance to use it.”
I moved from the door and made a show of helping myself to a bottle of brandy. Then, turning my back to him, I moved a few bottles and slid the door closed. When I straightened, I took the single bottle from the top of the sideboard.
“Thanks for this,” I said, lifting the bottle slightly.
He nodded and reclined back in his chair, ready for his after-dinner nap.
Every nerve tingled as I let myself out of his house and walked down the street, openly carrying the brandy. I could already taste it. My mouth watered. I imagined myself taking off the top and lifting it to my lips. Need didn’t completely cloud my thoughts into making a hasty decision, though. I waited until I was home where all the curtains still gaped wide.
Kicking off my shoes, I crossed to the kitchen. Instead of opening the bottle, I opened the cabinet and put the precious win inside, right beside an empty vodka bottle that had a sticky note on it.
I know this was water.
I got angry, but I didn’t show it. That Emily knew didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. Closing the door, I went up to my room and closed my curtains.
Once I was alone, I pulled the second bottle from my jacket. It wasn’t big, but it would do. Unscrewing the top, I took a long swig and exhaled heavily.
I felt no guilt that I’d taken it. James had given me an open invitation to do so. And I felt no guilt that I was hiding it. In fact, I was feeling something I hadn’t felt in a good, long while. Pride.
Emily and Merdon’s judgmental views of my drinking wouldn’t oppress me.
As I’d proven time and again, I was the queen of drinking games.
Chapter Six
The bottle with the sticky note was on the counter along with its new, unopened, partner, when I came downstairs the next morning. I knew an ambush when I saw one.
“Do we really need to do this?” I called out.
Emily popped up from behind the island.
“Yes. We do.”
I looked her over with the same intensity she was looking me over.
“Why, exactly, were you hiding?” I asked after the moment stretched long enough.
“To see your reaction to the bottles.”
My gaze shifted to the bottles then the note on the empty one.
“They’re bottles. Do you want me to start leaving love notes on them, too?”
“You know that isn’t a love note, Hannah.” She pulled the vibrant yellow paper off and thrust it at me. “It’s a problem.”
“Yeah it is, and so is hiding behind a counter. Better watch how you’re acting or people will start thinking there’s something wrong with you. It’s a judgy place around here.”
Her shoulders slumped for a moment then she slapped the note down onto the counter.
“I’m not judging. I’m afraid. Afraid of losing you and being alone again.”
Her words made the storm inside of me thunder louder.
“Don’t you get it yet?” I asked. “It’s never been about if we’ll die but about when we’ll die. You will lose me.” My thoughts collided as I realized something so very obvious. “We were always meant to die. From the day we were born. The only thing that’s changed is how. Instead of old age, it’ll be infection or a hound.”
The idea that my mortality had always been there, that my life had always been meant to end, sent my mind into a spiral. I gripped the counter against the onslaught of questions. How could anyone live knowing they were already dying? How were we all not running around in fear even before the quakes? What the fuck was the point of living at all?
“Hannah? You don’t look good. Are you okay? Are you going to be sick?”
I shook my head and stumbled away from her, unable to deal with her questions any more than I was able to deal with my own.
“I need some air.” I grabbed my jacket, my hands shaking so bad that I knew there was no hiding it from her. “The new bottle is still sealed, by the way, but feel free to break it open and take a sip if you don’t trust me. I’ll be back later.”