One Night

Chapter Six- Rock Bottom

Bottles I began to lose count of began to stain my sobriety as they laid strewn throughout my entire apartment. Where Lila's bassinet had sat since the day she had arrived home, empty bottles of wine now took her place. I had lost count of the days as well as the times I had thrown up from the excessive drinking. But it had been the only thing that had kept me from going further than where I had gone before. If alcohol was my keeper, I was a servant beneath its mercy. 

"Anna?" My own name echoed loudly in my head before I heard my front door shut. As I attempted to steady my eyes, I saw a familiar figure split into a hazy double. For a moment I had paused, bringing my eyes to a squint to focus. 

It was Luke. 

I wasn't sure if seeing him would be a pleasant experience as I had practically abandoned him, bit in this instance, all I could think of was my pounding headache and nauseated stomach. I could just imagine how I had appeared to him in smeared makeup, greasy hair, and unwashed clothes; and yet none of it seemed to phase him. 

"What happened to you?" I heard him ask as he moved about my apartment picking up my apartment and throwing the garbage into large trash bags. Even when I had given him reason to hate me, he seemed to come to my rescue. 

"Why are you here?" I asked in a more sour tone then I had intended. 

"I thought someone should check on you after two weeks." I paused. 

"Clearly, I am hydrated." I attempted to make light of the situation before finding him to look to me with frustration. 

"Go run yourself a bath…" he ordered me as if he felt he had a right to do so. Even if a ring was present on my finger, he would never be granted a right such as that. 

"I didn't ask you to come here…"

"Yeah...but maybe you should have…" he looked to me with sorrow before moving towards me. "I have a right to be angry at you, Anna...it is not the other way around. I was arrested, frisked, interrogated, left in jail overnight, and forced to explain a kidnapping charge...and all I am asking of you is to get into the damn bath." When he phrased what he had endured in this way, I felt guilt rise along with my nausea. 

"Fine. But I'm not letting you see me naked." I could see his attempt to speak before he pulled away from me and allowed me into the bathroom myself. Leaving the door cracked, I began to disrobe before hearing him continue throughout my apartment. The sound of glass bottles hitting each other may have erased the physical evidence; but not the guilt that had accompanied it. 

"Luke!" I called out upon growing frustrated with my bra. He arrived behind me quickly before chuckling. 

"Were you planning to shower in the sink?" He asked as the water poured rapidly from the faucet and I had my hand under the running fluid. I glared before motioning towards my bra. 

"I can't get it off!" I groaned as he brought his touch to my skin and hesitated before clearing his throat and pulling the clasp from its reciever and allowing my breasts their freedom. 

As his steps began to exit the bath, I could feel my legs turn to jelly as I spoke words I didn't expect to. 

"Please stay." He hesitates in the doorway before slowly nodding- agreeing to stay due to the overwhelming little he felt for me. Carrying his focus to the tub, he began to run the water and examined my bottles before finding bubble bath; nearly empty-as were most of my belongings. He then turned back to me and helped me into the water before moving onto his knees. Keeping my knees to my chest, I remained silent as he washed me the best he could without crossing any inappropriate lines. 

"Why didn't you fight for her?" He asked while washing my hair. The mix of his presence and the warm water seemed to assist in sobering me up as I could now think clearly; or whatever version that was for me. 

"It's-"

"Complicated?" I nodded before watching him take a small handful of soap into his palm and bring it to my skin. Once again, he focused on the less private portions of my body, but somehow managing to touch me deeper than anyone had ever before. 

"Does Nate...hurt you?"

"No." I spoke firmly. Luckily, I was never subjected to his physical hand in terms of anger. But vocally, I learned an entirely new vocabulary from a misogynistic womanizer during that five years. 

Luke breathed a sigh of relief. "Then what are you afraid of?" This question had been the heaviest he had asked me since I had met him. When speaking of my parent's deaths there hadn't been such a somber accompaniment, but as I looked into his eyes-I knew he saw my vulnerabilities. 

"Losing you." The words left my lips as relief washed over his own. 

"Then let's get you dried and we can find a way to get Lila back." He helped me to my feet and wrapped a towel around my body; careful to not touch me inappropriately; an attribute of his that was now beginning to annoy me. 

Bringing me to my room, Luke assisted in helping me with my clothes, doing so gently, until my nude body was then covered and more modest. Taking my dirty clothes into my hamper, he then moved into my kitchen. 

"Take a seat…" he spoke as more of a suggestion than an order as before. I complied as I couldn't deny how great it felt to be cared for. I watched as he began rummaging through my cabinets, bringing a focus to a specific skillet, some toast, and some fresh coffee. I could tell he was surprised at the lack of items I had as essentials-a detail not lost upon his expression. 

He then continued to make small talk before giving me French toast and premium coffee. "It will help." He assured me as he lightly buttered the toast before sliding it to me. He watched as I ate every last crumb and drank every last drop before looking to me with a quizzical gander. 

"Are you afraid of Nate?"

"I already told you.. he doesn't hurt me."

"He doesn't have to lay a finger on you to make you fearful of him. Is that why you gave up-"

"I didn't give up!" I yelled to him, the promise of a tender moment having been broken by this. 

"Anna...what do you call this?" 

"A set back...none of your business...take your pick…" I answered with a glare. 

"You're right, it's not my business. But I'm making it mine. If Lila could be mine-"

"She isn't." The words left my lips as they felt sour leaving my throat. I saw all the color drain from his face. That boyish excitement I came to envy as happiness faded with my confession. "I took the test and Nate showed up...I went to you to tell you...but he had you arrested-"

"Why didn't you have me go with?" 

"For this very reason. I was petrified she wouldn't be yours and then Nate would have a say in her life. I don't know how it is possible...she looks like you-" 

"Then why are you drowning your liver with poison instead of fighting for her?!" He asked, now aggravated with me.

"Because I can't. I can't afford his lawyers or claim as much dirt on him as he has on me. Look at my life Luke...I have spoiled milk in my fridge and roaches in my bathroom...I have no paycheck and live off of the mercy of others. Nate is employed, has a nice apartment, and even a stable history." Before he could respond, I grew too embarrassed to know his response. It seemed that my defense mechanism had been cruelty. 

"I didn't ask for you to be here, I don't want you here...you can't help with Lila...you're useless to me!" 

"Anna-" 

"You think it's the alcohol? I'm sober! Test me! Get a f******g breathalyzer! Anything to get you to leave me alone!" He clenched his jaw before making his way towards my front door. 

"Get out!" He paused as if going to speak before taking himself out of my apartment. I hung my head low and cried until I grew too exhausted to stay awake. 

So far I had lost the two most impactful people in my life; one was taken, and one I pushed away. But for some reason as I looked to the bottle of vodka on my counter, I had no desire to drink it. Instead, I threw it to the nearby wall until it shattered upon the ground. I thought of how it could all be over by a piece of glass across my wrists, but did not have enough strength to commit to this. Instead, I would remain in the damnation of my own making.