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Abby and Travis were slow dancing in the center of the room, whispering and smiling, deliriously happy. I was lying on the floor, snapping pictures and looking for other angles. I'd already taken shots of the wedding party, the families, the couples, and the first dance. Next would be the cutting of the cake, but Travis and Abby didn't seem to be in any hurry.
I pushed to my feet, feeling someone tap on my shoulder. Tyler stood behind me, clean-shaven and gorgeous in a tux, his top b.u.t.ton undone and his bow tie hanging off kilter.
"Wanna dance?" he asked.
"I should probably stay focused. I'd hate to miss anything."
He slid his hands into his pants pockets and nodded.
"Oh, go on!" Camille said, pulling up on my camera until the strap slipped over my head. "I'll take your picture."
"I prefer to be on the other side of the camera," I said.
"Please?" Tyler said, tugging me toward the dance floor.
I followed, but Camille clicking my camera like paparazzi was maddening. Tyler and I smiled for a few pictures, and then Camille decided to try her photography skills on Shepley's parents and Trenton.
Tyler stared at our hands while he swayed with me a few feet away from the not-so-newlyweds. He touched his smooth cheek to mine, breathing me in and savoring the moment.
"This is a good song," he said. "I've heard it a hundred times and never thought I'd be in St. Thomas dancing with you to it."
"It's beautiful here. I'd forgotten. If I haven't told you thank you yet ... thank you."
"If I hadn't, America's parents would have paid your way."
"Maybe they would have gotten me my own room," I said with a smirk.
"Doubtful. No one believes that we're just friends, despite your insistence."
I glanced at my gla.s.s of "ice water" I'd left at our table. Before the wedding, I'd emptied a water bottle and gone downstairs to fill it with vodka. Every sip I'd taken during the course of the day made me feel physically better and emotionally worse.
"The second they smash that cake in each other's faces, I'm done. Fourteen hours is enough for one day. This is more stressful than being on the mountain at the head of a fire."
Tyler's mouth pulled up into a half-smile, and he kissed my temple. I didn't pull away, barely giving it a second thought. Earlier, his family had mentioned that I would give in to Tyler eventually. I wasn't even sure what we were anymore. We had started a series of two steps forward and four steps back since the beginning and couldn't seem to kick it.
Beads of sweat were forming between my skin and my dress, and dampening the hair at the nape of my neck. It wasn't so much hot as it was humid. The air was thick and heavy, draping over my skin like an electric blanket.
The song ended, and Travis led Abby to the cake table by the hand. I left Tyler on the dance floor to find Camille and my camera, trying not to feel too irritated that she'd taken over a hundred pictures in the five minutes it had been in her possession.
I focused the lens while Travis and Abby pushed down on the knife to make the first slice. Everyone chuckled while Abby threatened him as he inched the small square of cake toward her mouth. An instant later it was over, sealed with a kiss. Everyone clapped, and then the music began to play again. I snapped a few more pictures and then made my way to our table, swiping my drink and finis.h.i.+ng it off before I reached the small bar in the corner.
"Rum?" the bartender said, sweat streaming down his temple.
"Vodka cranberry. A double, please ... mostly vodka." I watched him closely as he poured, nodding with satisfaction as he poured three-fourths vodka and the rest cranberry juice. I'd realized vodka was cheap and the least smelling of spirits, and it was easy to mix with most things, making it easiest for me to take to work or most functions. "Better go ahead and make me another," I said, glancing over my shoulder. I finished off the first drink before leaving, turning with a smile on my face, hoping anyone watching would think I'd just come away with one drink.
Hiding, concealing, and strategizing to seem normal. I wasn't sure how much longer the functioning part of my alcoholism would continue to be true.
"Easy," Tyler said. "Everything okay?"
"Just relaxing," I said, watching Travis kiss his wife and then lift her into his arms, waving goodbye. I grabbed my camera and captured that moment, happy for them and me, that I could finally put away my camera and mean it.
It wasn't long before Camille and Trenton, Taylor and Falyn, and Tyler and I were the last of the wedding guests left. The parents had turned in early, and Thomas and Liis seemed to be fighting.
I sat at the table, holding ice on my neck with one hand and a new drink in the other. Trenton and Taylor were twirling to the music with their dates, joking and giggling. The flaps on the outside restaurant that had been unrolled to keep out the rain were flapping in the breeze. I lifted my head, letting the air roll over my damp skin and the liquor sink in.
Tyler brushed a few wet strands of hair from my forehead. "You okay?"
"I'm good," I crooned, keeping my eyes closed. It wasn't often that I could get drunk anymore. "I want to swim in the ocean."
He lit a cigarette, but before he could blow out, I grabbed his cheeks and inhaled, filling my lungs with his smoke. I sat back, exhaling into the thick air.
He perched his elbow on the table and cupped his chin with his hand, shaking his head. "You make it so f.u.c.king hard to do the right thing."
"Take me swimming," I said, biting my lip.
"What about tomorrow?" he asked. "It's been a long day. Not sure if swimming at night in a storm is the best idea when we're drunk and tired."
"Whatever," I said, leaning back and closing my eyes again. Air cooled by the rain caressed my skin, and the heaviness from the vodka was comforting. I reached out for Tyler, blindly finding his arm.
"What are you doing?" he asked, amused.
"Just making sure you're still there."
"I'm here. For as long as you'll let me."
My lids popped open, and I let my head fall forward, looking at him with sleepy, dry eyes. "I want to make a pallet on our floor and lie with you naked."
"That sounds like a dirty trick," he said, grinning.
I lifted my hand to the waiter, signaling for another drink. He glanced to Tyler, who I could see shaking his head from the corner of my eye.
"Hey," I said in a moment of clarity.
"Ellie ... you're drunk. You're on like your tenth drink ... not including the s.h.i.+t you've drank all day. You're going to hurt yourself."
"Better me than someone else."
He frowned. "Wow. Are we at the pity stage of the night? Or is that you being a bitter drunk?"
Camille was showing her engagement ring to Falyn for the dozenth time of the evening, and I rolled my eyes. "It's a f.u.c.king diamond, and a small one. Stop bragging."
"Ellie, that's enough," Tyler said.
My face twisted. "She didn't hear me."
"You're talking louder than you think. C'mon. Let's go back to the room."
"I'm having a good time."
"No, you're sitting in a corner getting drunk."
I sighed. "I'll go. You stay here with your family. I don't want you to miss this."
"So you can end up in the ocean? No. C'mon."
I reluctantly stood, pulling away when Tyler tried to take my hand. He waved to his brothers and their significant others, and Tyler only touched me when I stumbled off the sidewalk.
We climbed an excessive amount of stairs to our room, and I leaned against the wall while Tyler opened the door. The lock clicked, the door opened, and had Tyler not caught me, I would have fallen inside.
He lifted me into his arms, carried me to the bed, and lowered me gently to the mattress.
"Come here," I said, reaching for him.
He pulled off my heels and then turned me onto my side, long enough to unzip the back of my dress. He slipped the fabric down and then slipped a T-s.h.i.+rt over my head.
"Much better," I said. "Now come here." I reached for him again, but he turned off the light and the bathroom door closed. The pipes whined as he turned on the shower. I thought about joining him, but I was so comfortable, and dizzy, and maybe a little nauseated. After a few minutes, the heat became hotter and the comfort went away. Nausea took over, and I rolled off the bed, crawling to the bathroom and reaching for the k.n.o.b.
I barely made it to the toilet before my stomach rejected the day's worth of vodka I'd consumed. The curtain pulled back, and Tyler's deep voice filled the room.
"Christ, Ellie. Are you all right?"
"Yep. Ready for round two in no time."
The curtain closed just in time for me to heave again. The water turned off, and I could hear Tyler shuffling a towel over his body before starting a bath. He held my hair until I was finished, and then undressed me, lifting me off the floor and then lowering me into the tub.
He used a washrag to wipe my face, and then he sighed.
"This has stopped being exciting, hasn't it?" I asked, feeling mascara sting my eyes.
"Yeah," he said, sounding sad. "I think it's time."
I nodded, wiping the black from my cheeks. "It's okay, Tyler. I knew it was coming."
"You knew what was coming?"
"Goodbye."
He shook his head. "I've told you ... I'm not going anywhere. Maybe it's not perfect, but I'll love walking through h.e.l.l with you just the same. I'm just not to going to watch you get worse. It's time we start going in the other direction."
"I think we both know we're past a support group and twelve steps."
He wiped my forehead with the rag. "Maybe. Whatever it is, I'm with you."
My bottom lip quivered, nodding.
I picked at my nails, feeling strange to have been sweating from the Virgin Islands humidity in the morning and have Tyler's truck heater blowing in my face to battle the chill of Colorado air twelve hours later. The winds.h.i.+eld wipers were creaking across the gla.s.s, wiping away the snowflakes falling quietly from the night sky.
"I'm not trying to be difficult. I think I just need some time to get my s.h.i.+t together."
He sighed, frustrated. "And why can't we do that together?"
"Because everything I've tried up to this weekend hasn't worked. It's been a year. I think it's time for something new."
"Or someone new?" he asked.
I blinked, offended. "I can't believe you just said that."
"I just want to help you with your luggage. It doesn't have to be a big deal."
"When you get upstairs, I'll want you to stay."
"Is that so bad?" When I didn't answer, he gripped his steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. "You want to drink, and you don't want me to see you."
"Something like that."
"So is this going to be the new thing you're trying? Choosing to get drunk over being with me?"
"No."
"That's what it sounds like to me."
"You're not coming inside," I snapped.
"Why?"
"You know why!"
He slammed his palm down on the dash. "G.o.dd.a.m.n it, Ellie! I'm f.u.c.king exhausted!"
"Then go home!"
"I don't wanna go home! I want to be with you!"
"Too f.u.c.king bad!"
He clenched his teeth, staring straight ahead. The headlights of the truck highlighted the MountainEar building and the snowflakes, adding to the already white blanket on the ground.
He slammed his gears.h.i.+ft into reverse. "I can't do this."
I grabbed my backpack and put my hand on the door handle. "It's about time you admitted it."
"You were just waiting for that, weren't you? I give up, so it's not your fault. Or maybe you can go upstairs and pretend you're drinking because you feel sorry for yourself. f.u.c.king brilliant."
I opened the door, and then opened the back door, grabbing my rolling suitcase and yanking it to the ground. I slammed the back door, and then the pa.s.senger's.
Tyler rolled down the window. "I've put up with a lot of s.h.i.+t to make this work, and you don't give a single f.u.c.k."
"I warned you!"