My next week involves partying every single day. The anxiety has gone but that's only because I am never sober. I've been to clubs and bars. I don't know it, but Taylor follows me every single time, watching what I am doing. I've snorted several hundred dollars of cocaine and drank several thousand more of alcohol. I'm a mess. My daughter is six weeks old and I've barely had anything to do with her.
I'm woken by a tapping on my bedroom door today. I'm sprawled across my bed, in yesterday's black skinny jeans and white t shirt, holding the corner of the bed. My head hurts so much. There is a further tap at the door. Oh fuck. I'm laid on my stomach, my hair flopping into my face. This isn't helping the nausea.
"Yeah?" I call as Gail walks in. I'm surprised to see her in my bedroom. Obviously I know she comes in to clean, but never when I am in here. I can't imagine what I look like but I'm sure it isn't pretty.
"Mr Grey. I'm very sorry to come in," she begins quietly, looking over my prone form. I want to sit up but my head is pounding far too much. Maybe vomiting would be better.
"It's fine, Gail. What do you need?" I asks her groggily, my mouth uncomfortably dry.
"I know what you've been doing," she says slowly. She doesn't come too near me. I imagine I stink and it's putting her off. I rest my cheek back down on the bed. "And I know you're in a lot of pain," she says. She sounds so caring. Like my mom.
"I'm not sure what you mean," I'm bewildered as to what she is talking about. My hangover is not my friend right now.
"Taylor told me about the drugs. The cocaine. I know your family don't know. And I know this isn't my place," she's so calm but I can tell under this exterior she's anxious about talking to me about this. "Mr Grey, we're happy to look after your your children. It's not about that. But Taylor and I aren't hiding this from your family anymore."
"Can you give me a moment?" I manage to get myself up to go to the bathroom and vomit. It's disturbing amounts of liquid. Vodka and whiskey mostly and what could well be a lot of stomach lining. I rest my face on the cool toilet seat for a few minutes. I'm not sure how long. I know she isn't going away so I know I need to stand.
I get up, swaying a little, pressing the flush and heading to the sink to wash my hands. I splash cold water from the faucet over my face. I look disgusting. My entire face is green, I look tired, my eyes bloodshot. My hair is a mess, like it's never been washed. I grab my toothbrush and brush my teeth. It makes me gag several times. I take a deep breath and walk back through, sitting on my bed.
"Mr Grey. I've known you a very long time. You're like family to me," Gail says looking at me. Something inside me feels a bit warm and I don't think it's the alcohol for once. I've known through all of this she really does care. I didn't know she thought I was like family though.
"Thanks. Um, likewise," I mumble. I'm shy about saying this. I've always got on with her but she has been such a constant presence for me. I know she hasn't taken a weekend off since I started drinking so there would always be someone in the house for the kids. I know Taylor has been doing a lot of the heavy lifting too. I know he cares but I don't think he knows how to deal with me on an emotional level.
"I can't let you do this to yourself. I've told Jason he's not letting you in any more clubs. And I know you won't be happy," she silences me as I go to open my mouth. "But I will have to tell your family if this continues. If you sort yourself out, it stays in this penthouse. But please, Mr Grey, please get help."
I nod, feeling tears prickling at the back of my eyes. Fuck, I'm not going to cry in front of her again am I? I look down so she can't see my face.
"Your children have lost their mom. They need their dad," she says to me gently as I nod again. "You have enough money to be able to buy enough drugs to kill yourself. You don't want to go that way," she says quietly. I can see she is emotional too.
"I'll get some help," I croak out, trying to swallow down the lump of tears.
"Please do. You're a lovely person, Mr Grey," she says quietly as I don't respond for a while. I shake my head a little.
"Thanks," I mumble. "I'm not but thanks. And you can probably just call me Christian," I choke out eventually as she gives me the tightest smile. "Please can you go? I'm going to cry and I don't want you to watch," I mumble as she quickly walks out. I bury my face in my knees for a bit and let the hot tears soak through my jeans.
My memories of the night before are so hazy. The last thing I really remember is two girls trying to dance with me or on me. Who the hell knows. I'm sure nothing happened there. I know that I'm not ready for that yet. I eventually stand and walk back to the bathroom, peeling off my jeans and boxers and pulling my t shirt over my head.
I stand under cool water, letting it wash the alcohol, sweat and general disgust for myself off. Well as much as it can. I put my throbbing forehead against the cool tiles for a while before eventually switching the water off and grabbing a towel. I wrap myself in a white bath sheet, walking back through to my room and laying back down on the bed. It's gone 11am. I guess I'll be missing work again then. Who cares.
Without drugs or alcohol the pain feels so real again. Like cutting through my chest. I don't bother checking my phone. She isn't going to text me anymore, to hell with anyone else. Even though I know everyone cares for me and I know I love them all for it. I just want her. I roll on to my side and reach into my dresser, taking out my citalopram and propranolol and taking three tablets to try and soothe the anxiety that is threatening. It's the first time I have tried it. It's time to try prescription drugs instead of this concoction of alcohol and cocaine I'm currently living on.
I sleep most of the day and get up around 4. I walk to my closet, pulling on grey sweatpants and a black t shirt. I brush my teeth again to try and get rid of the disgusting taste still lingering from the night before. I know for a fact I owe someone an apology. Probably several someones but one person is important right now.
I walk to the staff quarters and knock on Taylor's door. I wait patiently for the first time in our working relationship until he steps out. "What's up, Mr Grey?" He asks me. He hands are held in front of him. He looks the same as he always does, waiting to take whatever order I have.
"Can we talk?" I ask him slowly. God, I feel like I'm apologising to a girlfriend now. I don't know if this is going to improve or lessen Taylor's opinion of me. He gives me a curt nod. Never giving anything away. I follow him back into his office, sitting in one of the chairs. I'm nervous. Why should I be nervous? He works for me and I've always been a dick to him.
Except this time, he's been picking up everything with Gail while I've been in cloud cuckoo land. Normally, I'm at least sober when I'm barking orders. He looks at me, clearly waiting for me to speak.
"Um, firstly, I just wanted to say. I'm really sorry for my behaviour the last couple of weeks," I say slowly.
"You don't need to apologise," he says, cool as ever. If he's annoyed with my behaviour, he doesn't show it. I strong suspect he is.
"I do. I really am sorry. And you had to lie to my mom and… how did you get her to leave me alone?" I ask him suddenly. My mom was having chickens about me already, seeing me drunk surely didn't help?
"Well, I told her it was a one off. And you've somehow managed to act sober enough when its mattered otherwise," he says with a sigh. "She's really worried though. She knows something isn't right. I've told her its your anxiety medication and that you're not ready to tell anyone you're on it yet."
I nod, swallowing hard. He is right that my medication will have side effects. Maybe they can make you spaced out. I should probably read the leaflet again. Taylor must be one hell of a liar though to have convinced my mom. When this blows over I need some tips. I've never managed to get my mom off my case before.
"Have you started it?" He asks me abruptly. I'm surprised he's asking me. It's not really any of my business. Well, maybe it is with how I've behaved. And perhaps he's not quite as good as hiding his emotions as he thinks.
"I've started today," I tell him slowly, chewing on my bottom lip. "I don't think it's working yet."
"It will take a while," he says and his voice softens a little. Hell, he really cares about me. "You might feel worse for a bit. But those tablets you've been prescribed. You can't drink on them." I vaguely remember emailing Taylor the prescription to get him to collect them for me. I'm a little surprised he's read it. Even more surprised he's read the entire manual on the drugs.
"Yeah. Flynn said," I say shaking my head. "Did you and Gail send home the other staff?" I ask him. I have vague snippets of the last 7 days. I know my mom and dad have been twice. I was coked up for one visit. I haven't had coke since I was maybe 15 or 16. They didn't notice then either. For all their concern for children of abuse, many of whom have had parents who are drug abusers, they know surprisingly little about the effects of drugs. I know for a fact if my mom thought I was on cocaine she would have had me locked up in a rehab facility.
"Sawyer has been here. We put Hope on annual leave," he says slowly. I'm sure he's keeping stuff back from me.
"Why?" I ask him.
"I think the fewer people to deal with you like you've been, the better," he looks at me. Fucking hell.
"Have I been really bad?" I ask him. My heart is off again. Like a galloping pony. I'm so ashamed of myself.
"You've just been drunk. That's all. We're just trying to protect you," he says. "We planned both your family's visits for when you're most sober too."
"Thanks," I sigh. "You know I was on coke for one of them?"
"i didn't at first. But it became apparent," he says stiffly. He is so unimpressed with me. This is excruciating. Why?
"My parents didn't notice?" I ask him slowly.
"No, although I think if you do it again they may wise up. They thought it was the first day of your meds. I kept you away as much as possible," he adds. So he physically removed me from my parents? Smart.
"Thanks," I mumble. "And look, Taylor. I really am grateful. I'm really going to try not to drink. It's just hard," I add quietly. Taylor doesn't seem to be judging me. He has every right to. Unimpressed maybe. But judging? I don't think he is. It doesn't lessen my sense of embarrassment though.
"No one is doubting that," he says slowly. "We all miss her. And we're all here for you. But you're going to get hurt behaving like this," he sounds more stern with me now. Who would have thought my head of security would tell me off now? Wow. 2 months ago I'd have been swearing at him by this point.
"I know," I say quietly. "Gail said the same. I don't want to let my kids down," my voice is a whisper. I'm going to fucking cry again, I know it.
"You won't. Just be there for them. Teddy needs you, Mr Grey," he says firmly.
"Taylor," I say slowly. "I remember. Going to a club. And dancing with… women. Did anything happen?"
"You're asking me if you've had sex?" He asks me in disbelief. Now he does look embarrassed. Join the club. So am I. I nod. "Every time you went out I went too. So, not that I am aware of, Mr Grey." Oh thank god. My wife's body barely cold and fucking someone else. That would be horrific. Ana would hate me for that. If she doesn't already for getting pissed for a week and being unable to take care of our children.
"I told Gail… she can call me Christian. I mean I call you Taylor. So… call me what you like," I add.
"Mr Grey is fine," he stands. "Go see your son," he tells me. It's an order. Definitely the wrong way around. I nod, swallowing back tears and heading out. He closes the door behind me.
I walk up to the nursery. Despite it being a Saturday, Gail is here. She's on the floor, playing with a baby doll with Teddy. Rose is fast asleep in her crib.
"Daddy!" Teddy squeals, rushing over as I pick him up.
I sit down, settling him in my lap and kissing his lovely curly hair. He smells like shampoo and talc. I could hold him all day. Maybe you should have been the last few days, I think darkly. "What have you been up to?"
"This is my baby," he tells me, picking up the baby doll by its leg. Let's hope he doesn't have the same idea with Rose, I think in amusement. It's nice to just sit and play babies with him. Gail leaves us to it. I sit on the floor, holding the baby as Teddy prepares bottles for it. I pass him the baby as he feeds her.
"What's her name?" I ask him as he gets it on the toy changing mat to change it.
"Ana," he says. Oh. Fuck. My eyes are burning again. I take a deep breath.
"I love that," I say quickly. "Like mommy."
"Yeah," he says, pulling the diaper off in one and passing it to me. Gail is clearly letting him use Rose's diapers for play. I smile slightly, placing it back in the packet and handing him a new one from the pack so he can pretend to change 'Ana'.
"She's sleep now," he says, dropping in the toy crib. I don't know why I'm laughing, his parenting is better than mine has been the past week. At least he's present.
"Shall we grab some dinner then? Got to eat now the baby's asleep," I say, unable to call the doll Ana. I don't want another sob fest in front of my son. Teddy nods. Gail has prepared a really mild chicken curry for us. After it, I bathe Teddy and get him and Rose settled before walking down to my room.
It's around 8pm and I don't know what to do with myself. I don't want to start drinking. I pace around for a bit, wondering what I used to do in the evenings before I met Ana. Work probably. Well I don't want to start now. I've not looked at emails since I started drinking. The piano makes me too sad. I think it's too late to call my mom, even though I know she wouldn't care. I take a deep breath and wander down the corridor.
"Come in," Taylor calls as I walk into the staff quarters. Him and Gail are sat in their living room together. She has a glass of white wine, he isn't drinking. They look surprised to see me. It's a mark of how desperate I am not to drink that the next question leaves my mouth.
"You guys want to watch a movie with me?" I ask hopefully. I have surprised myself.
"Sure, what would you like to watch?" Gail responds at once as I shrug. Anything that involves me not sitting alone with a whiskey bottle really.
"Can see what we can download?" I suggest. I rarely used to watch cable but since we've had kids, we now have a TV in our living room as Teddy loves to watch kids TV. They nod as I head back through to my living room, grabbing a glass of fruit juice on the way and sitting down with the remote to flick through the movies available.
"Have you seen the Lord of the Rings?" Taylor asks me as I shake my head. "It's a good movie," he tells me as I nod, finding it and downloading it. It's awkward at first sitting with them but as the movie gets going and we chat about the plot I feel a lot more relaxed. Hell, I might even be enjoying myself. It's almost midnight by the time the movie ends.
"Let us know if you need anything," Gail says gently. She touches my arm. I don't flinch away, just give her a small smile and thank her. I walk to my room, changing into pyjama bottoms and a white t shirt and climb into my bed.
I fall asleep for a bit but wake up at 4. My dick is rock hard and I can see it through the duvet. This is the second time it's happened since I lost Ana. I couldn't even bring myself to touch it last time. I check the time. I'm up plenty early to do this. I take a deep breath and reach under the duvet and into my pyjama bottoms.
I jolt a little as I touch myself, ridiculously oversensitive having not come in nearly 2 months. The last time I came it was inside Ana. Don't think of that, I berate myself at once. I wrap my hand around my length. It feels so good. I have no idea what to think about though. I can't think about Ana but thinking of anyone else feels like cheating. Get a grip, Grey. Literally.
I search my mind, trying to think of any woman I fancy. I'm not a saint, I know for a fact I looked at other women when I was with Ana. Not with any intention of doing anything ever. But maybe looking at an ass or tits and admiring it. But I can't think of a single person I fancy. I try and clear my find and just make it a mechanical task. A means to an end.
But she keeps swimming into my head. I try and push it out. It's making me miss holding her. Fuck this. I take my hand out of my pyjamas and walk to the shower. There's a simpler solution to this. I set the shower to the coldest setting, strip my pyjamas off and stand directly under it until my erection fades. Stupid fucking thing. I climb out and wrap myself in a warm towel, walking to the closet to get dressed.
I could take a run but I have zero energy. I reach in my bedside cabinet and take my tablets. I know it's a little early but I am desperate to get them in my system. I have this nervous energy. Anxiety. I know it is no matter how much it pains me to admit it. I push my fingers through my damp hair as I lay back.
At around 7 I head upstairs and get my kids. Hope still isn't back. Taylor tells me she's due back tomorrow. I text my mom and ask her to come round. I want to see her. I don't want to be alone. By the time she arrives at 8 the kids have had breakfast and we're sat watching Sunday morning tv on the sofa, Teddy cradling a sippy cup and me my little girl.
My mom heads over, kissing each of our heads in turn. "I'm so glad you called, Christian," she says taking a seat as Teddy goes to sit in her lap. I give her a weak smile. "How are you feeling?"
I sigh. The side effects seem to be kicking in. I feel very nauseous. Maybe it's the withdrawal from the booze but it's a sickness I've never felt, weighing heavy. "I'm okay," I mumble as she rubs my head for me.
"You want to talk about it?" She asks me as I sigh. Teddy won't get most of this so I can talk.
"I have to tell you something," I mumble, adjusting my hold on Rose. Mom nods. She looks so worried about me. "I started my meds yesterday," I admit slowly as she looks at me. "I'm sorry mom. I made Taylor lie to you. I've been drunk for two weeks."
My mom doesn't look disappointed. Hurt yes. But she's not disappointed in me. "Oh Christian," she sounds so sad. "Why couldn't you just reach out?"
"I don't know," I whisper. "I took drugs, mom." My voice is hollow. I have to tell her what I've been up to. I don't know why. I just feel she deserves to know.
"Yes, well Dr Flynn prescribed them," she says gently. She doesn't get what I just said. "You're going-"
"I mean cocaine, mom," I say, feeling tears prickle in my eyes. She still doesn't look disappointed. But she's crying now too.
"Christian," she sets Teddy on the floor, taking Rose from me and laying her carefully on the sofa. She reaches for me and wraps her arms around me. I start to sob into her shoulder, my whole body shaking. She rubs my back. Teddy isn't paying us any attention. He's playing with Duplo. But someone else is looking.
Rose gives me her first ever smile. Tiny little gums showing. "Mom," I let go right away, fumbling for my phone in my pocket for pictures. My little girl is beaming. And apparently all I needed to do was sob uncontrollably into my mother's shoulder. She has a wicked sense of humour, I think with a small smile.