Page 25 of With Wine Comes War

I put a pot of water on the stove to boil. I decided a nice penne with a mushroom cream sauce sounded divine, with a hearty bottle of cabernet. I threw a fresh crusty Italian bread in the oven to warm. I smashed some garlic cloves and mixed them with softened butter to spread on the bread when it was done. I added some sea salt to the boiling water then threw in the pasta and poured a glass of wine while I waited for the pasta to cook. I grabbed another pot to make the mushroom sauce and put it on the stove to heat, then added those ingredients and stirred while drinking my wine. I kept looking over at my phone trying to decide if I should check my emails for something from Roman now or wait until after the food was cooked. I ultimately decided to wait since I was sure that I would ruin dinner if I got caught up in emails with Roman, knowing it could never just be a quick scheduled meeting with him. This was going to take a lot of mental strength to get through.

I finished cooking and drinking half the bottle of wine in the process and served up the food. I placed my plate and another full glass of wine on the cocktail table in front of the sofa and picked up my phone to turn on my favorite classical music station through the Bluetooth speakers. I saw the email notification as soon as I picked up my phone and agreed with my inner monologue that it could wait until I was done eating.

I savored every bite. The pasta was cooked al dente and the mushroom sauce had the right balance of white wine to cream where it seemed to melt on my tongue. The garlic bread was perfectly crisp on the outside with just the right amount of buttery garlic melted over it to soften the middle without making it soggy. If I hadn’t gone into real estate, I could’ve gone into the culinary industry, except Ihate the craziness of a restaurant kitchen and would probably end up murdering someone.

I glanced down at my phone. Clearly, he was into playing games now because it read, “TRUTH OR DARE.” I don’t have time for that right now. I needed to see if he could help Darius. I laid the phone down and cleaned up my dishes. I poured the last of the wine into my glass watching as the last drop hung on to the lip of the bottle for dear life. It was just the way I felt about reaching out to Roman right now. I got comfortable on the couch again, propping myself up on the pillows and tucking my feet underneath me– laying the velvet blanket over my legs for comfort. I picked up my phone and thought for a minute about what I was going to do with his email and the one I needed to send.

He’s going to have Amelia call me to set up the meeting tomorrow and then he wants to play Truth or Dare. I was smiling and tipsy, but I wanted to test my comfort level with him before seeing him. It was for the best I got to bed as soon as possible, before this turned dismal.How about getting truth and dare over with so I can go to sleep?I thought and took another sip.

Sometimes the wine makes me emotional and sometimes it does its damn job and numbs the pain like right now. Maybe wine was the answer. I read his rejection of my first answer and his new dare.Call him.

From: ROMAN

Reply to: ALEX

Subject: re: Back to truth or dare

________________________________________________________________________________________

Then I dare you to just call me.

RK

________________________________________________________________________________________

That was a dangerous dare. I dropped the phone and walked to my room.

This was going to take a minute, if I can even bring myself to do it. I dragged my feet back to the bedroom taking as much time as I could to change into jammies and brush my teeth. Back in the kitchen I picked up the corkscrew and held it in my hand like a weapon as I stared at my phone waiting for it to sprout fangs and attack me. I opened another bottle of wine, satisfied my phone wasn’t a threat, and poured another rather large glass of cabernet. I held it up to my nose and inhaled the strong fragrant scents of cherry and dark chocolate– possibly notes of tobacco in this blend. I already had a major buzz going from the first bottle of wine, but I needed to make sure that no emotions were invited in on this phone call. Since it seemed to block out the bad memories of thinking that Roman was my attacker, I could only assume the wine is the reason I’m making this call.What if I start slurring. Maybe I should talk out loud to myself for a minute to make sure I sound sober.Oh fuck, I’m talking to myself to make sure I sound sober…that is the definition of not sober.I sat up on the sofa and put the glass on the table then put my face in my hands while I decided how I was going to go about starting this phone call.

Thinking about it was what was going to get me into the most trouble, so I picked up the phone and pushed send. The ringing almost made me nauseous. When he answered in his low, husky voice, tears started welling up in my eyes. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The wine was supposed to numb the feelings, not make shit worse. I could feel him vibrate through my veins– the pain, the love – all of it. I pushed the speaker button and set the phone down so I could wipe the tears off my face.

“Hi Alex, I didn’t think you’dreally call.”

I composed myself before I responded, wiping off the tears and taking a deep breath.

“I wasn’t sure I was going to, but you know how much I hate to lose.” Thinking of this stupid game we were playing as I rolled my eyes and took a big gulp of wine to mask the gravely sound of my voice. I sounded worse than I imagined I would.

He laughed a little and said, “It’s great to hear from you. You sound good.”

He had to be joking. I felt like shit, and I knew he could tell I was crying. He sounds amazing as always, however. If he was feeling like me, he was a lot better at hiding it than I was.

“Thanks, I’m a little tired, but that’s all. It's nice to hear from you too. How’ve you been?” I don’t know how to have a conversation with him anymore. I hoped I convinced him I was just tired and not a bottle and a half toward being drunk.

“Ummm, a little pissed off actually.” And he sounded like it now. His little laugh from earlier must have been sarcasm or condescension, not sure which. Maybe he was just a good actor. I should’ve known it wasn’t going to be so easy.

“Probably at me, huh?” I snorted trying not to laugh but didn’t want him to get more upset, so I took another drink to muffle the sound.

“Yeah Alex. How could you ever fucking think I could do something like that to you? I don’t care how much drugs were in your system.” Not the reaction I was expecting, but I’m not sure I was expecting anything in particular. “Everyone, including the police, Bruce and Steve told you it wasn’t me. Why don’t you believe them.” I got up and refilled my glass of wine for the rest of this conversation. In fact, I’m just going to empty the rest of the bottle and fill the glass all the way up. I’m getting drunk tonight and not holding back.

“I was drugged.” I yelled. “I couldn’t see. He took me into the room you took me to the night we met. I asked him if it was you, and he said “Yes, Roman King!! What the fuck was I supposed to think? My mind was a fucking mess.” Take that.Gulp.

He yelled back, “Are the drugs still in your system? Or are you just pushing me away?” Dagger to the heart.Gulp.

“I don’t know. That’s a very good question.” Even the giggle that came out was slurred. “Nothing a little bottle of wine won’t take care of.”Or two.I held my glass up to the phone offering “cheers” to the air.Gulp.

“Why the hell are you doing this to us? If you’re hurting as much as I am, then why?” His voice was hoarse, and he sounded shattered. He wasn’t handling this the way I thought he would. Tears were falling, but my voice only gave way to the inebriation. The wine was keeping me from outright crying in his ear. Hearing him so tortured was brutal. But I couldn’t refrain from telling him how I felt even though this was not what I had planned tonight. I didn’t know how long I’d be able to control this.

“You don’t deserve me,” I barely whispered, holding my head down staring at the phone while teardrops splashed across my screen. “You deserve someone better than me.” It was like I was listening to myself say this from somewhere else and I had no control. “I’m like a black cloud that ruins everything it comes in contact with. Why do you want that?” I blinked then realized what I had said and felt like I’d heard a speech like that before. A little self-loathing as I raised my glass to my mother in heaven.

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