Novelas y relatos de For A Minute I Was Stone Cold Sober

I said as I maintained a lopsided smirk. "Tomorrow makes it thirty days" I said it casually followed by a few murmurs. "I've been sober for thirty days, bitches" I said, enthusiastically, nodding to their claps. "And we have something for you" Lydia said after a round of applause, before reaching unto the table.

I tried to claw myself out of the tub but the alcohol seemed to have settled right in my joints, making them languid and unwilling to cooperate with my brain. 1 second, 2; and I was fuckin’ sober. My murky vision cleared, and for the first time since I last saw him in the morning, I saw him standing just right outside my personal hell of a cold. “Are you sober?” Anger laced his tone, and I shivered. Not from the cold, but from the dark cloud swirling around his face, his sharp jaw ticking as a muscle moved.

For a moment it was all I could do not to throw her onto the bed and plunge into her anyway. “Iced tea?” I croaked. “Yes!” “Long Island iced tea?” I pressed. She blinked. “I… I don’t know. I couldn’t hear very well. But it was sweet and—” I groaned and threw myself back a couple of steps because if I didn’t stop touching her velvet skin, I was going to go up in flames. Fuck. Fuck. “We can’t do this,” I rasped. “What?! Rig—I’m here! I’m sober. Look at me!”

He slowly stood up and people clapped to encourage him as he made his way to the podium. “Hi…my name is Scott,” “Hi, Scott,” They chorused. “Um…I’m an alcoholic. I have been sober maybe twenty hours, I know that’s not much but I gotta start somewhere right? Um, that right there is my daughter. She’s pregnant with twins. My first grandchildren. She looked me in the eyes and said that if I didn’t sober up I would never see her or her children. At first I was furious with her. How dare she give me an ultimatum right?”

It is the loudest thing in the room. I am free. I repeat it to myself. I am free. I don't have to wear a grey uniform. I don't have to serve wine to men who look at me like a piece of meat. I don't have to worry about Sofia Greco or her assassins. But I don't feel free. I feel cold. It starts in my fingers and spreads up my arms. A deep, bone-chilling cold that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. It is the cold of withdrawal.

Or a cold shower. God fucking help me.

I loved the way he touched me when he was not afraid. But fear had a way of changing people. I remembered the way he had looked at me last night. Wild. Desperate. Like he was holding onto the edge of something very dark. I did not want to be his anchor if it meant drowning with him. Later that afternoon, my phone buzzed. A message from Drake. I stared at it for a long time before opening it. I am sober. I should not have come like that. I am sorry. No excuses. No commands. Just words.

Thankfully for the both of us, he somewhat holds it together. "I did try. I tried as hard as I could but I was sick man. I fucked up every chance that i was given to turn my life around, and there's nobody in the world to blame except myself. I haven't been able to have a clear headed thought in nearly a decade but I'm finally there. I'm clean, I'm sober, nearly ten months now." His voice trembles with sincerity. I don't know how to handle it. "Congratulations" I say, shoving my hands into my pockets. I mean it sincerely. It's probably the longest he's been sober in a really long time. It's a big achievement for him. I'm proud of him. He only nods his head before he continues.

She is just nothing than Pain in my damn ass. I think after taking this cold shower helped me a lot. I should go now. This cold shower really is helping me. I feel like nothing happened. I really hope that I could say so but I am not at all relaxed.

Just once. I froze.