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“What can I get for you, love?”
The barman’s voice broke into Anne’s drunken musings and even though, she’d begun to feel nauseous, she had no intention of stopping. All she wanted to do was to forget all her troubles, especially, about Richard, and if that meant drinking herself into oblivion, that’s exactly what she’d do.
Stumbling slightly, as she edged closer to the bar, Anne tried to compose herself enough to answer the barman. Her stomach felt unsettled and fragile and the world seemed to spin as she holstered herself up to sit on the high stool at the bar.
“Tequila shots, please.” Her voice was clear as she spoke, despite her drunkenness and for that, she was glad.
She didn’t need his pity or his curiosity. She had never been one to drink excessively as in the past, her parents would never have let her get drunk and Isabel had never really included her in her outings. She didn’t want to deal with his questioning looks.
Only a few moments later, Anne watched the young barman line up the shot glasses with trepidation. Seeing the amber liquid being poured into them seemed to make Anne feel even sicker. The hurt over Richard hadn’t disappeared as she had drank and at the sight of the glasses, she couldn’t help but worry that it wouldn’t matter how much she drank at all. She’d still feel as if her heart was breaking.
The excruciating pain attacking her heart as she thought about her marriage wasn’t just disabling but for a couple of moments, it stilled her hand as she raised the shot to her mouth. Richard’s whispered and loving promises seemed to go round her head on a painful loop and all she wanted was to stop thinking and more importantly, to stop feeling entirely.
With a rueful smile on her tired face, Anne had an epiphany. In one swoop, Richard hadn’t just broken his promises as well as his vows but also her heart.
“No matter what happens, I will always care about you, Anne. As long as there are stars above and my heart beats, you will always have a friend in me. “The memory of his whispered promise brought a thick lump to her throat and she ended up gulping quickly in order for it to go.
How had things gotten so bad? How can someone go from being utterly devoted to someone only to tear that person’s heart to smithereens? It seemed ludicrous and impossible that Richard was doing that. With the various questions buzzing around, Anne’s head was beginning to ache.
The whole point of drinking had been to forget about Richard and everything he had apparently done. Even just thinking of Richard being with someone else, whilst coming back to her each night tortured her….
Shaking her head ever so slightly, as if to clear the painful thoughts from her mind, she turned her attention back to the shots on the bar in front of her. Despite her drunken stupor, she worked methodically and quickly downing one shot after the other. As she did so, Anne barely had time to taste the bitter after taste of the tequila as she moved on to something else.
“You should probably slow down a little. You’re going to have a banging headache in the morning.” The barman’s advice was barely registered by Anne as she only noticed he was talking to her once she’d spotted him waving his hand in front of her face.
“I’m not drunk.” She slurred to him, brightly. Anne knew she was telling the truth. After all, she wasn’t just drunk. She was heartbroken. Surely, that would make you act a little differently than normal, she mused, biting into her bottom lip.
The barman looked a little disbelievingly at her slurred words. The empty shot glasses in front of her only served to remind them both just how much she’d drunk. Whilst the barman looked at Anne with worry, her thoughts were scattered and hazy. Richard was still very much etched on her mind as much as it tortured her to admit it.
“Yeah, sure and I’m the queen. “The barman replied to her, his voice full of sarcasm.
Anne noticed his tone immediately and her sluggish movements followed his words. She quickly tried to move from the bar stool but her drunkenness, tiredness and even how upset she was made that an almost impossible task. The stool banged loudly, catching the attention from those around her, as she stumbled. As she did so, her face showed no emotion.
“I.AM. NOT.DRUNK.” She bit out, her teeth gritted as she emphasised each and every word escaping her mouth.
A crimson blush had come to her face, despite the coldness of her words, and it was still present as she stumbled and swayed her way out of the bar. Anne could feel the barman’s heated gaze following her as she did but she merely ignored him and carried on.
Despite the amount of alcohol Anne had drunk, the cold hit her hard. Her bare arms were covered in goose bumps as the cold January air hit them and instinctively, she wrapped them around herself in a vain attempt to keep warm. After a few cold moments, it was clear to her that it was futile.
She couldn’t help but want the man she’d tried so desperately to forget, Richard. He’d always been so warm and comforting and as she walked in the cold, she yearned for nothing more than for him to wrap his arms around her.
Somewhere inside of her reminded her of what he’d done, of how he’d broken her heart and Anne couldn’t help but feel like a fool. How could you want someone who had irrevocably torn your heart to shreds? Even she had to admit it was complete madness. Nevertheless, however, she wanted him.
Anne tried to push those yearnings aside and focus on getting home but her feet didn’t seem to work. They were achy and heavy and before she knew it, she’d stopped walking completely. Without the distraction of walking, Anne once again thought of Richard. The desire to talk to him almost disabling….
She barely registered getting her mobile out of her pocket and it seemed she was ringing Richard without properly registering it. As soon as she heard the dialling tone, she felt sick to her stomach and despite her drunkenness, it had nothing to do with alcohol.
“Anne? Is that you? Are you alright?” Richard’s voice sounded different to her now. As if he wasn’t the man she’d married.
She blinked at his words. What could she tell him? Did even she know? Anne quickly tried to conjure up something to say to her husband. Anything… she was starting to not care.
“Why would I not be?” There was an edge to Anne’s words, almost as if she was challenging him to admit what he had done.
Anne waited patiently for Richard’s answer but for what seemed a long while, all she heard was a sigh. It was full of weariness and unhappiness. It was something Anne hadn’t heard her husband do that often. She was struck with the realisation that she hadn’t once thought of him being unhappy with his ‘lover’ and the thought of it galled her. Why should she? If he was going to throw a marriage away, he should be happy. Why make two people miserable?
For the first time since she’d started drinking, Anne felt completely sober. Her thoughts had reminded her of the pain she’d been trying so hard to block. Tears stung her eyes and although, she knew they were for her, she had to wonder whether they were for Richard too.
“I’m sorry. I-I…. I haven’t done anything with her, Anne. I promise. You’ve misunderstood the situation.” Richard sounded like the honest man Anne had married and it took all her strength to not believe him.
Her heartbroken heart longed to believe him and doing that seemed so easy but Anne knew it wouldn’t be. Could she ever truly trust him? And if she couldn’t, could she bare living with a man she couldn’t trust? She couldn’t answer the questions plaguing her mind and it was with a cold voice she answered him.
“I don’t care. I don’t know why I rang you. I must have thought I needed you.”