You Never Call Me When You're Sober Novels & Stories

The call comes in at 3 a.m. Liam's name flashes across my screen, but it isn't his voice on the other end. It's some guy from a bar, sounding both annoyed and exhausted. "He's drunk off his ass," he says. "Never seen him like this. You need to come get him."

"Oh shit. We had not discussed that yet. But yeah,if you want…I would like us to get married again. Without you leaving me on the alter.Alone. I take both her hands and kiss her knuckles. "I'm never leaving you." I promised because I was not planning on doing so. Not now. Not ever. "Can you please tell me." I'll tell her. Not everything but I will. "I was young when I pulled my first trigger. That sort of messed up with my head and I…I turned to alcohol for solace. It went on for more than ten years. But I've been sober now for like three years? Yes,three years."

’ 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.

So I guess, coming home to an empty house is pretty fitting. She hasn't even come by for her stuff, everything is exactly where she left it this morning. She must be borrowing some stuff from Fran. I should call her. No I shouldn't I'm drunk. Well, I'm not drunk but I'm not sober, I'm at that awkward middle phase where I am probably responsible for my actions but I don't feel like I should be. Fuck it. I sit down on the edge of the bed and dial the phone. It rings, and rings, and rings. I fall back against the bed and let out a sigh, she's not picking up.

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.

Woman qued while chatting to one another. I sighed heavily, I was a terrible drunk. Everything was depressing me. I leaned against the wall and pulled my phone from my pocket. My sober self was going to be pissed. But my drunk self didn't care. I dialed Wyatt's number and listened to the ring. "Kenz? Are you okay?" "Why do you always think I'm calling because I'm in trouble? I'm not a damsel in distress!" "Why are you shouting? Is that music? Where are you?"

"Hold on...why does he actually sound sober? Usually his words would be all slurred up by now?" "... you're right?" Dorry responded in a surprised tone. "Is he really not drunk?" "Guys! I'm sober! Haa, this isn't working. I'll call you two later." he cuts the call off before they could react. Even if he couldn't believe every other person, there was one person he had much faith in despite her annoying tone. The call goes through and he takes nervous steps forward as he picked up. "Hey, Bree... I'm gay."

Rita finally snapped out of it and let out a mocking laugh. "Kevin, just because someone made a joke, you want a divorce? "I was actually thinking that since you'd behaved yourself these past few days, I'd take you out somewhere in a couple of days. But you've really let me down. "Wasn't everything perfectly fine over the holiday?" Perfectly fine? Back when I worked in the ER, distraught family members would often grab my collar, sobbing and demanding:

She answered the call with almost shaky hands with build up of everything absolutely terrible. "Why didn't you call me? I told you to call me, then why didn't you? Did you not even think of me enough to call me?" His voice sounded hoarse, almost robotic. His tone was psychopathic with three different emotions with each sentences that shook her completely. She immediately wished she hadn't had the delusional thought the he had said those things because he wad drunk. People were usually the most truthful when they weren't sober.

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.