Phoebe grabbed my arm the second she saw me, yanking me back to the toilets. I fumbled after her. Even sober I couldn’t keep my feet under me very well. It made me wonder why I hadn’t gotten a drink before.
I should have brought a flask.
P:Some effort would have been nice. Honestly, a lawyer can only do so much when you show up like this. What were you thinking?
Marty followed behind. I didn’t meet his eyes.
C: I don’t really care what happens…
M: Yes you do.
C: No. I don’t.
Phoebe yanked my jacket from my grasp and handed it to Marty while she poked and prodded my face and hair.
P:You look like death.
C:And it can take me.
M:You don’t mean that.
C: Yes. I do.
I looked at Marty. I shouldn’t have. All I saw was pity.
C: What, Marty? Worried your fiancee will cheat too?
M:No. I’m worried about my brother! Have you met him? Warm, kind, worth looking up to!
C:Reality hit. There’s nothing left.
I growled the words at him.
P: Enough. Button your shirt.
C: Arthur wouldn’t.
I hated his name. Hated myself. Hated everything. I was nothing. Not even worth Marty’s pity, no matter how much it ripped me open. He’d never look up to me again. My father’s eyes matched his.
P:Button your fucking shirt Cal.
The second we walked out I saw her and my insides hollowed out, dragging me down deeper than I thought possible.
She was wearing that dress… I bought her that dress.
