CHAPTER 6
1497 Words
80’s music flowed softly from my speaker, relaxing me as I lay on my bed, scrolling through Abigail’s i********:.
My eyes stuck to one particular picture. Abigail and Jason, taken three years ago. They looked younger, happier, and in love. A look I didn’t see in them now.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I let it ring once more before answering.
“Hello?”
“Gloria,” my mother’s voice slipped through the line. “It’s Mom.”
My head sank back into the pillow. “Hi, Mom.”
“Where have you been, honey?” The words rolled out quickly. “Your dad and I have been worried sick. It’s been months.”
“I’m fine. I just have some things to handle. I’ll be home soon.”
There was a brief pause before she continued
“Look,” her tone got calmer. “I know everything’s been hard since the accident. But you don’t have to do this alone. We’re here for you.”
I pressed my fingers to my forehead, and let out a deep sigh. “Mom, I said I’m fine. I’ll see you when I can.”
“But—”
I ended the call.
For a moment, I stayed still, the room too quiet despite the music. After everything that had happened, they had learned how to move forward. Talks about healing. About normalcy. I didn’t know how to exist in a world that expected that of me.
I went back to my phone, tapping into i********: again, when a second call came in. Another unfamiliar number.
I answered immediately. “Mom, please stop calling me!” I snapped. “I told you I’ll come home when I’m ready.”
A soft voice cut in. “Mrs. Gloria. This is Valerie, the coordinator from Alcoholics Anonymous.”
I sat up immediately.
“I’m sorry,” I rushed. “I thought you were someone else.”
“That’s fine,” Valerie replied. “I’m calling because the last time you were here, it seemed like you had something pressing you wanted to speak about with Mr. Donovan.”
My grip on the phone tightened.
“I just wanted to let you know he’s here,” she continued. “In case you’re still interested in talking.”
My eyes widened.
“Oh,” I said, the word catching awkwardly in my throat. “Okay. Thank you. Thank you for letting me know.”
“You’re welcome,” she said.
The call ended, and I stayed seated, phone still in my hand.
Jason was back in the picture. After everything I’d already set in motion. After Abigail. The thought settled uneasily in my chest, part temptation, part warning.
I stared at the wall, weighing it. Going. Not going. Turning back now. Or not.
It wouldn’t hurt to have another route. A backup plan.
With the decision made, I stood.
I dressed simply. A plain tee. Jeans. Nothing that tried too hard. When I reached for my makeup bag, I focused on my eyes, darkening the skin beneath them until I looked tired. Worn. Like someone who hadn’t been sleeping well.
I studied my reflection. The exhaustion looked convincing.
As I reached for my keys, I hesitated, then dug back into the bag and found the small bottle of eye drops. The ones I’d stopped using because they left my eyes red. I turned it once in my hand before slipping it into my purse.
Then I headed out.
I barely remembered the drive, and by the time I realized I was breathing too fast, I was already standing outside the community center.
At the entrance, I paused and reached into my bag, pulling out the eye drops.
I tipped my head back, and squeezed several drops into each eye.
The burn was immediate. My eyes watered at once. My vision blurred.
But I held it in.
This had to work.
I blinked through the sting and pulled out my compact mirror. My eyes were red, glossy, swollen at the edges. Like I had been crying for hours.
Good.
I practiced my expression in the mirror. Eyebrows low. Lips curved into a small frown.
I drew in a deep breath and opened the door.
As soon as I stepped inside, our eyes met.
Jason was in front of the room, already speaking to the group. His voice was smooth. Calm. Like always.
He held my gaze for a few seconds before looking away, acting as if nothing had happened.
I quietly took a seat at the back, careful not to interrupt.
When it was over, I hadn’t even stood up when he walked toward me.
“Gloria.”
I looked up at him. His face was serious.
“Yes, Mr. Dono…” I corrected myself. “Jason.”
“I was told you wanted to see me,” he said, eyes scanning my face. “What’s the matter? Why do you look like this?”
I sniffed lightly and glanced around. “Can we… can we please talk somewhere more comfortable?”
“Of course. Follow me.”
I walked behind him. He stopped briefly beside Valerie and leaned in to say something I couldn’t hear, then kept moving.
Inside his office, he opened another door that led to a balcony with a breathtaking view of the city. There was a cushioned bench and a small table.
He motioned for me to sit first. Then sat beside me.
“Now,” he started immediately, “what happened?”
I adjusted in my seat and lowered my eyes, settling into the expression I had practiced.
Um…” I swallowed. “My parents died.”
His face shifted into a slight frown.
“It was five days ago. A robbery attack.”
I blinked slowly.
“I know we were estranged because of my drinking. But they were still my parents, the only ones I had left.”
My voice grew thinner.
“And now they’re gone.”
He stayed quiet, letting the words hang between us.
“The last time we spoke, it was bad,” I continued. “We argued. We said things. I always thought I’d have time to fix it.” I shook my head “I didn’t think that was the last conversation we’d ever have.”
“My sister is gone. Now them.” I pressed my hands against my temples briefly. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Maybe I’m cursed.”
He placed a steady hand on my arm.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he said firmly. “And you’re not cursed.”
There was a brief pause.
“There’s something about me that people don’t know,” he added in a quiet tone. “Something I haven’t even told the AA community.”
He leaned back slightly and stared ahead, eyes fixed beyond the balcony rail.
“The reason I founded this program,” he began, “everyone thinks it’s because I used to be an alcoholic. Which is true.” He swallowed. “But no one really knows why I decided to stop.”
“A few years ago, there was an accident. I was driving.” His voice dropped. “I had been drinking.”
My fingers curled in my lap.
“My wife begged me not to get behind the wheel that day. She said I wasn’t sober enough.” His eyes lowered briefly. “I didn’t listen.”
“There was a crash. She lost the baby.”
The air between us felt heavier.
“I wake up with it every day,” he continued. “No matter how much good I try to do. No matter how many people I help. The guilt doesn’t leave.”
“I basically killed our baby.”
“Don’t.” I cut in, placing my hand over his. “Don’t say that.”
His eyes met mine, glassy and tear-filled
“It was an accident. You made a mistake. That doesn’t mean you killed your child.” My fingers closed around his. “You have to forgive yourself.”
A faint smile touched his face. His other hand covered mine, holding it between both of his.
“The same way you need to forgive yourself,” he returned. “For your parents. For your sister. None of that is your fault.”
He turned fully toward me.
“You’re not alone, Gloria. You have me. Whenever you need me, you call and I’ll be there. I promise.”
He pulled me into him.
The hug was firm. Close. His hand slid into my hair, holding me there a second longer than necessary.
“It’s going to be okay.”
I rested my head against his chest.
“Thank you, Jason,” I whispered.
As his arms tightened around me, I smiled.
Not the broken smile he expected.
A different one.
Sinister. Certain.
Because in that moment, I knew.
I had them both.
- Writer
