Page 16 of Bound to the Daddy

My vision blurs as the pill starts to take effect, making me feel warm and languid inside. Dangerous. I don’t remember it feeling like this before. Unfortunately, things were so bad back then that I probably felt closer to normal. Not sure what exactly that says about me now.

Is my anxiety just not strong enough? Am I not about to just break down again? My muscles shake as I push myself up and away from the edge. No good will come from me thinking these dark thoughts here. Besides, I need to figure out what I can live with and what can leave behind.

My steps are wooden and heavy as I walk into my apartment. Tears trickle down my cheeks again as I look at the stuff. My stuff. Once my parents passed, all I had was me. I rented this apartment on my own. I furnished it myself. All the assets they had went to their bills and funeral, leaving me to pick up the pieces by myself.

I was proud of the life I carved out. And now, what do I have to show for it? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Sliding down to the floor, I pull my knees up to my chest and sob, allowing my heart to break. But even that feels empty somehow, hollow. As if I can feel things but not really experience them. Maybe it’s the pills. Maybe it’s the exhaustion threatening to creep up on me and pull me under.

Either way, minutes pass by without my awareness. I have no idea how long it’s been since I came back home. It’s not until I look up and note the gathering darkness that I realize I must have been here for hours. My stomach grumbles in protest as I pull myself up from the floor.

At least now that I don’t have to worry about rent money, I can possibly get myself something nice to eat. One last takeout meal in my home before I end up on the streets.

No. Not on the streets.

I stare at my phone, my heart clenching as I pick it up. There’s one person I know who will help me out of this mess, but to invoke his name is to bring about the devil himself. I don’t want to go to him, but I have little other choice. Shaking my head, I decide to take the coward’s way out first.

Stephanie

Hey sweetie. I have a lot going on. Any chance I can stay with you for a few weeks while I sort it out?

Brody

...

...

Babe. I thought you knew I wasn’t going to be available for the next few weeks. Didn’t we already have that conversation?

We did... I just thought if you weren’t going to be in your space, maybe I could?

I’d love to have you over. Believe me, I would. But that would just complicate things. Don’t you think? We have such a great thing going, and I’d hate to fuck it up. You understand, right?

Yes... I understand.

That’s my good girl.

Look, why don’t you call over to the house and see if Chef can make you something? I’m sure it’s just your period or something like that. He’ll make you a good dinner and you’ll feel much better. Gotta bounce, but I’ll see you when I get back.

Another tear slips from my cheeks and splashes on the phone. Part of me thinks I’m being ridiculous, but the other part is so furious and fed up that Brody can’t even give me the courtesy of listening to me. Then again, if he’s in meetings, then I’m probably just bothering him.

It’s so confusing. I want to be angry, but I find myself feeling just so alone and abandoned. But then, I knew this going into the relationship. He never hid the fact that he’d be away and unavailable at various points in time.

I agreed to it, clinging to the familiar. He was all I had after my parents passed, and even now, as I think about leaving him, it feels like just one more piece of my life crumbling at my feet. I want so desperately to stay in control… but even now, I feel it slipping through my fingers.

Glancing over to my bathroom, my fingers itch as I force myself to stay put and not grab the razors. I don’t need them. Not really. I can manage without them. I just don’t want to.

And that’s the problem.

Maybe my landlady is right. Even if I’m not an addict, I certainly feel like I might have the potential if given the right stimulus.

Even if it’s not now, it could be a matter of when. I give my head a furious shake, pulling my thoughts away from the edge.No. She’s not right. Not now. Not ever. All I need is some good food and a game plan.

Honestly, what I need is Brody’s dad. As much as I loathe the idea of crawling to him, begging him to fix it, I know he’s the only one. Everything in me hurts as I crawl to my bed to sleep in it one last time before I face the inevitable.

Even in the morning light,my options are clear. No amount of sleeping on it revealed some grand plan. Somehow, I didn’t even dream of a solution. I didn’t dream at all.

Grabbing my phone from off the nightstand, I stare at my reflection in the screen. I’m not a failure. I’m just not. Unfortunately, I can’t even seem to lie to myself anymore.

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