Chapter Two: Better Than Me
The sun rises up before my alarm, so I get up with it, carefully pulling myself away from the warm ball at my side. When had I fallen asleep?
Smiling at how cute he is, the deep purple onesie soiled and two-tone hair a mop mess, I cover him back up with my blanket.
The moment I do, a furious hangover comes barreling at me, making my head relentlessly pound and my body unevenly sway. Shit, this hurts! As I go into the bathroom to take a cold shower, anger fills me up, and I can't help but think about how this is all Gou's fault. I ponder smothering him, but my better half screams against it, knowing that deep down I'm not who the constant stress, grief, and alcohol abuse has made me out to be. Thankfully, or regretfully (I can't tell which yet), I haven't burned any bridges with people. But I wouldn't dare ask for help. They have their own lives to lead, they shouldn't waste it worrying about me.
As I undress and redress into the same old clothes, I avoid gazing into the mirror. I know what I look like, I don't need any reminders. Pulling up my pants, I feel the pocket vibrate. Taking it out, I put it to my ear.
"Hello?" I say, voiced strained from all the talking and crying.
"Hey, Kai. I just wanted to see how you were doing."
I mentally groan at the feminine voice gouging out my ears. "He's asleep, Julia, keep it down."
Obviously she's not bothered by it because she keeps yelling. "Where the fuck are you anyway?"
I hear a crowd of people singing something in the background but I don't care to learn what it is.
"I'm on vacation with Raul and Romero. We're in Greece, on a cruise ship."
"Good for you." I grunt out, stooping down to pick up one of Gou's stuffed turtles. For some reason he loves them. He sleeps with this purple one in particular, drags it everywhere he possibly can.
Carelessly tossing it on the bed across from me, I watch as Gou rolls over. Great, shouldn't have done that.
"Anyway, Kai, I heard about what happened. Are you okay?"
Her voice is softer, sweeter, clearly she's gone somewhere to be alone. The singing is gone and I'm far from hearing any inappropriate noises, so I guess she's back in my good graces.
"I'm doing fine." I say as my stomach knots up in protest.
"From what Max told me, you were taking her death pretty hard."
"Yeah, well, I'm not completely emotionless." I say, a fair bit of bite to my tone. I don't like where this is going, at all.
"I know. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You didn't handle our aftermath well, so..."
"Julia-" I warn. Does she like reminding me that I screwed us up? It seems so.
The headache pounds more and I nearly buckle down to the floor. Apparently I hissed into the receiver because I'm immediately bombarded with questions, Julia mainly asking if I'm okay.
"Julia, shut up I'm fine!"
I hang up the phone, not giving her a chance to answer. Within my huffs I hear a soft thud and some pitter-pattering meaning that Gou's awake. Damnit, that's the last thing I need.
When he comes up to me I shove him away, and get up, ignoring his cries while I go get some strong painkillers.
About an hour goes by before the hangover finally eases off, and then another before I'm drinking again. In the meantime I indifferently change and feed Gou, not bothering to talk to him as he munches on his oatmeal. Oddly enough, he seems fine with it. Was this kid born to be a saint or something?
Time flies by, and in the blink of my eyes, Gou's come up four-years-old. He's a mouthy pain at times but he mostly listens to me. The keyword being mostly. Every day is a losing battle and I hate being a parent.
On the anniversary of her death I have him stay with Max for a while, it's become somewhat of a routine since he turned two. To sum it up, he was unruly at the gravesite the first time he went and I couldn't handle it. I fear I'll beat him if he acts up like that again, so I take him to Max for safekeeping, his favorite uncle.
But today I feel different. I'm unresponsive to anything Gou does. If he breaks something, oh well. If he screams at me to get my attention I don't give it.
Somehow, I drop him off, Max tearfully wishing me well. He gives me the flowers for his sister after a warm hug hello, which I return.
But soon, I'm drinking again, and in an emotionally fueled stupor, one day of grieving turns into years of me leaving all I know behind.
Next thing I know, I'm in hiding, living somewhere half a world away.