Page 54 of Seductive Swimmer
I should call Savannah.
No, I can’t do that. Not after the way she pushed me away. She’s hurt and mad, but so am I. How could she disregard me so quickly? I was trying, for fuck’s sake. I was trying so damn hard to be the man that she deserves. All I ever wanted to do was take care of her and make her happy.
You didn’t listen to her.
I scrub my hands over my face, feeling slightly dizzy. Whether it’s from emotional turmoil or whiskey, who knows. Right now, I just need to dull the pain in my chest. The pain that’s caused both by losing Savannah, and by fear of losing my mother.
I stagger back to the living room and grab the bottle of whiskey off the table, bringing it to my lips and drinking deeply. Wiping my mouth with my hand, I open my phone, blinking at the bright screen. I manage to dial Brayden somehow, but it’s not his voice that answers, it’s Lorelai.
“Lo, s’Alex. I gotta go home,” I slur.
“Alex? What’s going on? Are you drunk?” Even in my current state, I can hear she’s concerned. It’s not in my nature to drunk dial people, so it’s no surprise she’s confused.
“My mum’s sick. I’m goin’ to England tomorrow. Tell B, would you?”
I end the call and drop the phone down on the couch. It instantly starts vibrating with a call, but I ignore it. I don’t have the energy to explain things further right now.
It’s only as I walk back into my bedroom to try and finish packing that I remember Molly. I freeze, frowning down at her where she lays on her bed. The eyes she turns to me are full of trust, and pierce at my already broken heart.
“Shit. Fuck. What the fuck do I do with you?”
I stare at her long face for a moment, blanking on what to do with the damn dog. I can’t ask Brayden and Lorelai for help. Not only do I not want to speak with them again tonight, but their building also doesn’t allow dogs. I feel sober all of a sudden. The fact that I am stuck with the responsibility of another living creature hits me, and is better than an ice-cold shower at shocking me from my whiskey and heartache-induced stupor.
I’m about to dial Savannah, and risk hearing her voice again, which will surely break me even further, when I remember Dex and Bianca have one of these dogs. They must know what to do. The question is, will they help me? Even though I plan on getting to England, sorting out what’s going on with Mum, and leaving as soon as possible, I still need someone to take care of the dog. Someone who will care for her the way Savannah would want her cared for. And God forbid I entertain the idea that Mum may be so ill that I have to stay in England for more than a few days. That’s something I just cannot fathom right now. I grab my phone and manage to find Dex’s cell phone number without too much difficulty. My head is still swimming from the whiskey, but I know I can pull it together for this call. I have to. Dex isn’t Brayden or Lo. He’s not a close friend, he’s more of a colleague; I don’t want him to know that I’m falling apart right now.
“Alex Devlin, how goes it?” Dex’s voice comes down the line, and I panic for a moment, questioning myself for involving him. He’s friends with Savannah and would likely side with her in this mess. Looking at Molly, I realize I’m out of options.
“Dexter Truitt. Good to hear your voice,” I speak slowly, and I think I somehow manage to sound somewhat normal. “Listen, I need a favor.”
To my surprise, Dex doesn’t ask too many questions when I explain that I need someone to look after a greyhound for a few days. We arrange for him and Bianca to deal with Molly, starting with introducing her to their dog, Bandit, at the park tomorrow. I thank him and get off the phone, head into my room, and finish packing. When that’s done, I finally allow myself to sink back down on my couch with a fresh glass of whiskey and Molly sprawled across my legs.
Eventually, between the whiskey and the warmth of Molly acting as my blanket, I drift off into the blissful nothingness of sleep. God only knows what awaits me tomorrow, and I feel wholly unprepared for it.
