Page 30 of Brutal for It
And this time, she asked for the one thing I don’t know how to survive.
The door closes.
The house is silent.
And for the first time in my life, I’m gutted in a way no fight, no bullet, no blade has ever managed.
Because losing her isn’t just pain.
It’s losing myself.
The house doesn’t sound right without her.
It’s too quiet.
Too clean.
Too dirty.
Too empty.
Her toothbrush is gone. Her pillow’s cold. The faint scent of her shampoo clings to the bathroom, mocking me every time I walk past.
And the damn ring box sits on the counter, staring at me like an open wound.
I keep opening it, like maybe the stone will have an answer written in it. Like maybe if I stare long enough, I’ll understand how she went from yes to goodbye in what feels like the blink of an eye.
It doesn’t talk back. It just glints at me, cruel and silent.
Unable to find solace in my silence, I do the only thing that comes naturally. I drink instead.
The first night, I down half a bottle of Jack and punch the wall until my knuckles split. When I don’t make it to the job site and neither does Jami, my foreman calls Crunch. He shows up the next morning because I wouldn’t answer any calls, curses under his breath when he sees the hole, and hauls me to the sink like we’re kids again. He cleans me up while muttering about how love makes idiots of us all.
“Where’s Jami?” he asks finally.
“Gone,” I reply flatly.
“Gone where?”
“Don’t know.” I slam the cabinet shut harder than I mean to. “Don’t wanna know.”
His eyes soften, and that pisses me off more than if he’d yelled. “You need to talk about it, Tommy.”
“I need a drink.”
“You need to dry out and come to work. I don’t know what is going on. I’ll get Jenni to get up with Jami. Whatever it is, we will sort this shit. But can’t do that with you drunk as fuck.”
“She asked me to let her go. So leave her to it.” The words roll off my tongue leaving only bitterness in their wake.
“Dammit, brother, how long have you been drinking?”
“Two days and I plan to make it three.” So I pour one, right in front of him, and dare him to stop me. I toss back the drink and pour another.
“You want me at work. I’ll be there tomorrow. Today, you need to leave me alone, Rhett. I need you to leave me alone.”
Rhett studies me.
“Never asked you for shit. Put up with every binge you ever had. Now, brother to brother, I’m asking you to get the fuck out of my house and trust I’ll be at work tomorrow.”
