Call Me When You're Sober Novels & Stories

’ He says. He is right. I hear my phone ringing. I pull it from the desk drawer and see it is Izzy. This conversation really needs to wait until I am sober. So I let the phone go to voicemail. But of course I couldn't get that lucky, because a minute later it starts ringing again. Growling, I pick it up and slide to answer the call. “What do you want Izzy?” I ask exasperated. I can tell by her gasp that she can tell I am drinking, not that I am surprised by the way my voice came out.

I have a chance at something fucking real in my life and I'm not going to fuck it up over anyone. "Scott, please..." she whispered. I blinked hard, I needed to get my act straight, I needed to get my fucking shit together. I needed to be sober. I walked inside her home and slammed the door behind us. I massaged my temples, "Get me some water, Cindy." She nodded as she made her way to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of cold water. I snatched it from her and drank it. Fuck, I shouldn't have drunk this much.

“Guilt was eating at me, someone brought beer to the training, and that’s how it started. It ended with my downing two bottles of whiskey.” “Owen, I don’t know what to say to you. I am disappointed you drank to get away from your problems. You should’ve stayed sober and talked to Mel. I need to go now; I am meeting a client. Try and stay away from women who aren’t your mate.” “I will, mom.” She hung up the phone without saying anything else. I tried to call Mel again, but the same thing occurred. The call continued to ring without going to voicemail.

I had taken my phone already before Rose tried to stop me but my eyes cleared when I saw the caller. Why is she calling so late? I thought I became sober immediately, without thinking, I picked up and said "hello" She was about to say something when Rose pulled me closer and moaned my name. Did she hear that? . The other line became silent and I didn't know what to say next. While I was thinking of what to say, she suddenly said, " sorry for disturbing you sir. Could you please come home tomorrow, I have something important I want to discuss with you sir".

Getting my back scrubbed sounded like a very good self-care option. I glanced briefly at my phone before reaching for it and switching it off without any hesitation. The phone was used mainly for me to communicate with my clients anyways. Apart from my clients, no one ever called or contact me in anyway on the phone. Since I’m supposed to be on leave now, I decided to go off the grid and shut off all communication that was work-related. It’s just for a few days, I told myself. It would be a few days of rest that I needed to heal my mind and find the will to continue fighting on.

Until I hear the dial tone. Already it has been a week since the rut and another few weeks since I went back to our house to get my things. It’s funny how our dear ‘mother’ never bothered to contact us after I sent her the text about… The shrill ringtone pulls me out of my thoughts. I glare at the screen before swiping to answer. “Why did you call?” her voice comes high-pitched but her words are slurred. Ah, a classic of this woman to never be sober for a single minute of the day.

And she did. That amazingly strong 12-year girl breathed deep and screamed the most earth-shattering scream she could. Every single neighbor came running, the cops were called, CPS was called and our family that had been broken for years, finally fell apart. That was just over 5 years ago. He apparently got sober 3 years ago and has been since, but I refuse to talk to him. “Why would he call you?” Mia asks trying to keep her cool. “He’s been trying to get a hold of me a lot more lately. He usually leaves a voicemail, fills me in on his life and that’s that.” I shrug.

“I just… I just need to think.” The bartender, clearly used to situations like this, took out her phone which was tossed carelessly on the table and made a call. He didn’t ask for permission, he just dialed the first name he saw on her emergency contact list. “Yeah, hi. I’ve got someone here… She’s a little too far gone,” he said into the phone. “She’s been drinking for a while, and I don’t think she’s fit to be alone right now. Yeah, I know, I’ll be here. Just letting you know, okay?”

The tears flowed faster than I could control. A failure. That was what I was. I held onto the bottle of alcohol like my life depended on it. My vision blurred as I stared down from the edge of the cliff. I took a deep breath. “What a great night to die,” I mumbled, taking a hearty gulp of my drink. My legs wobbled as tipsiness kicked in. Just one jump… Just one jump and all my problems would be over. My phone buzzed at that moment. Cursing at the fact that I hadn't left it at home, I brought it out of my coat pocket. My blood ran cold as I stared at the caller ID. With shaky hands, I received the call.

It was life-changing. The second time I called, three nights later, I was stone-cold sober. And I was already naked when I dialed. He answered on the first ring. “I was hoping it was you.” The simple statement sent a thrill through me. “I’m naked,” I blurted out, before I could lose my nerve. A sharp intake of breath. “Fuck. On your bed?” “On my knees beside it.” It was true. I’d felt wild, daring. “Spread your legs for me. Show me how wet you are.”