Page 23 of When It Rains He Pours

Chapter Five

Glory

––––––––

Pushing the door shutin my apartment, I flopped down onto my couch. The plush mahogany cushions curved around my head and shoulders, cradling my body.

I was exhausted. Having had way too much to drink and my brain overloaded with every emotion known to man, I could barely function. Dropping my arm like dead weight off the side, I rested the other across my eyes.

What to do? What to do?

What the fuck am I going to do?

Words and images were blowing through my mind like a tornado. The destruction, the man, Liam. . .

My chest constricted as ghostly sensations of his hands on my body took over, and sharp hairs prickled their way down my skin.

No, not him, he's not what you need to think about.

I tried to force myself to think of what really mattered, creating a series of everything that needed to get done, and putting them in order.

Call my customers, clean the gallery, buy new supplies, paint my ass off.

Don't think of Liam!

His bright blue eyes flashed in my mind, causing my stomach to twinge with that familiar flutter of excitement. Clutching my belly, I rolled onto my side. I wasn't sure what it was about him that made me feel so tingly.

This is stupid. It was a one night stand, get over it.

My phone pinged in my purse, so I dug it out and checked the message. Ten messages were on my screen, all of them from my mother. She was last person I really wanted to talk to right then.

'Glory, rent is due in a few days, are you coming over?'

'Honey, did you get my message?'

'Hello? Call your mother!'

Her messages increased in worry and I wasn't surprised. I was all she had left. After losing my father, she seemed to clutch me harder. But I couldn't give her the same back. I was pulling away because things felt different, while she was doing everything to keep me close.

The distress over what had happened came back ten fold, making me even more pissed and upset. She relied on me for everything, so this gallery wasn't just about my existence, but hers too.

I loved my mother, don't get me wrong, but it was my job to care for her now. That was a heavy burden to carry, even as an adult.

It was a promise I had made to my father when I found out he was sick. And there was no way I'd ever break it, not a chance in hell. He died knowing that I would make sure she would always be alright. I wasn't going to let him down, not ever.

'Yes, I'm here. Sorry, long night, just waking up, I'll be by soon.' Turning my phone off, I dropped it onto the coffee table and stretched my arms up over my head.

Looking around the quiet space, I searched for my planner. I had to focus on what mattered. I needed to get my shit together.

Standing up, I walked to my desk, and rummaged around. Spotting the bright red planner, I pulled out the chair and sat down. My fingers shook as I pulled back the cover, knowing exactly how hard it was going to be to make those phone calls.

Hi, this is Glory from Glory's Gallery. I hate to call you like this, but. . .

I have some bad news. . .

I regret to inform you. . .

Damn it!

---