Read Online On the Rocks (Pub Fiction Book 2) by Gillian Jones - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gillian Jones
Tags: Fiction
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wave of guilt to wash over me.
What the hell am I doing thinking about Levi?
Immediately I reach inside the wooden night table to shake off my Levi thoughts and remember Shawn instead, by taking out the worn note that I’ve held sacred for the last four years. I keep it for Emme, I keep it for me—as a reminder, a memory invoker, a punishment, but, best of all, a connection. A connection that I miss so damn much. A connection I felt guilty for stepping away from for a while today…
Opening it up, my hands tremble as they always do. Why do I have to go back to that day over and over? Why do I insist on punishing myself? I’m like a cutter, it’s like I use Shawn’s letter as a way to feel. A way to torment and to punish myself, to let it slowly kill me from the inside. Why the hell can’t I let the guilt go?
I’m so tired of torturing myself, exhausted from the guilt, the anger, and the fear. I just want to scream into the void: How the fuck could you do this to me?! You ruined me! I just want to share out loud how hurt I am; I’m cut, cut so fucking deep, but I can only bleed inside.
I can hardly stand to breathe some days, but I’m not a coward. I am a mother. And our daughter needs me…my daughter needs me. I have to be strong for Emmerson, so rather than allowing the cuts to remain open and to bleed out, letting all the pent up feelings escape, to seep out allowing me to deal with and to eventually heal, they pool inside and fester within, killing me quietly. Will I ever get over it? Move forward?
But tonight I can’t seem to hold it in. What is happening to me? I clutch the note to my chest I try to control myself, but great big sobs escape along with my pain and anger. Glancing in Emme’s direction, I see she’s awake and looking at me. I begin to try to comfort her, but it’s my four-year-old daughter who comforts me.
“It’s o’tay, Mommy, I wove you.” And, as if it were possible, she scootches over even closer to my side, closes her eyes and gives me exactly what I need in that moment. Her.
Finally calmer, I read over the lines one last time, focusing on certain now-familiar words:
the happiness cavalry
trust me to take care of you still…always
I’m with you
I love you
I’m sorry
Don’t blame yourself
It’s not very often that I can handle reading the whole note, but tonight I feel the need. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that need again, to see what Shawn wanted me to see.
I wonder if he’s proud of me?
Has he really been looking out for us all this time?
Could he be bringing the job, and Levi, into my life for a reason?
God, I need to make an appointment with Hillary. And soon.
These are the thoughts that plague my mind as I pull my daughter closer and finally drift off to sleep.
Chapter 12
Levi
“W ait ’til, you see these chicks, man. I’m telling you, they rival the ones we picked up last weekend. Shit, I can’t believe I’m gonna be a repeat offender. Who would have thought I’d meet a girl at Tim Hortons of all places, eh?”
I’m fucked, truly fucked. Sitting on my back deck I’m listening to my buddy Finn go on and on about some chick, Zoey, and her friend that we’re supposed to meet up with later tonight at Front 54. Or rather, trying to listen, ’cause he’s obviously into this one, but I can’t. All I can think about is her . Braunwyn.
“Are you fuckin’ listening to me, man? I’m like pretty much giving you my man card and you’re just sitting there zoned out. What the hell is on your mind? And if you tell me ‘Pub’, I’m going to kick your ass. You’re off tonight. Remember?”
Taking a long pull from my bottle of Canadian, I can’t get the would-be taste of her out my mouth, a taste I keep imagining over and over. That taste which I imagine would belong to her skin, one of honey infused with vanilla, like her scent. I keep tasting it and imagining it as hers, despite the crisp flavour of beer taking over my mouth (not
What the hell am I doing thinking about Levi?
Immediately I reach inside the wooden night table to shake off my Levi thoughts and remember Shawn instead, by taking out the worn note that I’ve held sacred for the last four years. I keep it for Emme, I keep it for me—as a reminder, a memory invoker, a punishment, but, best of all, a connection. A connection that I miss so damn much. A connection I felt guilty for stepping away from for a while today…
Opening it up, my hands tremble as they always do. Why do I have to go back to that day over and over? Why do I insist on punishing myself? I’m like a cutter, it’s like I use Shawn’s letter as a way to feel. A way to torment and to punish myself, to let it slowly kill me from the inside. Why the hell can’t I let the guilt go?
I’m so tired of torturing myself, exhausted from the guilt, the anger, and the fear. I just want to scream into the void: How the fuck could you do this to me?! You ruined me! I just want to share out loud how hurt I am; I’m cut, cut so fucking deep, but I can only bleed inside.
I can hardly stand to breathe some days, but I’m not a coward. I am a mother. And our daughter needs me…my daughter needs me. I have to be strong for Emmerson, so rather than allowing the cuts to remain open and to bleed out, letting all the pent up feelings escape, to seep out allowing me to deal with and to eventually heal, they pool inside and fester within, killing me quietly. Will I ever get over it? Move forward?
But tonight I can’t seem to hold it in. What is happening to me? I clutch the note to my chest I try to control myself, but great big sobs escape along with my pain and anger. Glancing in Emme’s direction, I see she’s awake and looking at me. I begin to try to comfort her, but it’s my four-year-old daughter who comforts me.
“It’s o’tay, Mommy, I wove you.” And, as if it were possible, she scootches over even closer to my side, closes her eyes and gives me exactly what I need in that moment. Her.
Finally calmer, I read over the lines one last time, focusing on certain now-familiar words:
the happiness cavalry
trust me to take care of you still…always
I’m with you
I love you
I’m sorry
Don’t blame yourself
It’s not very often that I can handle reading the whole note, but tonight I feel the need. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that need again, to see what Shawn wanted me to see.
I wonder if he’s proud of me?
Has he really been looking out for us all this time?
Could he be bringing the job, and Levi, into my life for a reason?
God, I need to make an appointment with Hillary. And soon.
These are the thoughts that plague my mind as I pull my daughter closer and finally drift off to sleep.
Chapter 12
Levi
“W ait ’til, you see these chicks, man. I’m telling you, they rival the ones we picked up last weekend. Shit, I can’t believe I’m gonna be a repeat offender. Who would have thought I’d meet a girl at Tim Hortons of all places, eh?”
I’m fucked, truly fucked. Sitting on my back deck I’m listening to my buddy Finn go on and on about some chick, Zoey, and her friend that we’re supposed to meet up with later tonight at Front 54. Or rather, trying to listen, ’cause he’s obviously into this one, but I can’t. All I can think about is her . Braunwyn.
“Are you fuckin’ listening to me, man? I’m like pretty much giving you my man card and you’re just sitting there zoned out. What the hell is on your mind? And if you tell me ‘Pub’, I’m going to kick your ass. You’re off tonight. Remember?”
Taking a long pull from my bottle of Canadian, I can’t get the would-be taste of her out my mouth, a taste I keep imagining over and over. That taste which I imagine would belong to her skin, one of honey infused with vanilla, like her scent. I keep tasting it and imagining it as hers, despite the crisp flavour of beer taking over my mouth (not
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