The dent in our vows

𝟑𝟔

David's POV

They said Karma was a bitch, but mine felt more like a Mackenzie Valley wolf with sharp canines and viscous claws that sunk deep into my life, leaving a very big, very open wound.

Dawn was pregnant.

The very thought of this strangled my organs. It felt like a fresh hole had been dug inside my heart and it bled so much that I thought I would pass out.

I tossed back the fifth shot of my fireball and slammed the glass down on the bar top, realizing I still had my consciousness and was going to need something stronger if I wanted to rid my mind of agonizing thoughts.

At this point, different emotions were drifting through me. Anger, spite, resentment, bitterness, confusion. The pain of being lied to was excruciating.

I held up my hand to the bartender, whose name tag identified him as Ted, and shook my empty glass. "Five shots of Balkan 176. Neat."

He gave me a look.

Yeah, I knew what I was ordering. I needed it, more than ever. I fished out my wallet and dropped three clean hundred's on the bar. "Now."

After a silent minute of sizing me up, he nodded and proceeded to reach for the clear liquor bottle on the top shelf. I watched, drumming my fingers on the bar as he shook it, poured it, and then slid the glasses to me along with six pieces of diced lemon.

"You'll need it."

I took my first shot and squeezed the lemon between my teeth right after. It felt like I had been sucker punched in the gut so hard that I momentarily wheezed for air.

Fuck me.

The next one felt like I was swallowing hot broken glass shards. It wasn't getting better but I welcomed the irritation and continued forth.

"Bad day?" The bartender asked, refilling my empty glasses.

"Try bad life," I told him, taking a swing of my next shot and shivering with the aftershock as it burned a fiery path down.

Everything was fucked up. The situation behind Dawn was one I couldn't control and I hated it. I hated that I was powerless. I hated that the money and influence I sort so hard to get couldn't save me this time. Fucking vanity. The inevitability of it depressed me. I was fucking screwed. I ran a hand over my face and puffed out an exasperated breath. I needed to think but I couldn't, my emotions were too riled to let me.

"Women?" Ted continued, wiping the bar. "Trouble at home?" He asked, nodding to my wedding band.

A soft laugh bubbled out of me but that feeling was instantly replaced by dread. I tipped my head back and swallowed up another shot. The heat from it traveled down soothing me. "If women were the only issue I had, I would be elated but sadly they're not."

"Well, for an extra fifty I'll be willing to hear all about them." He suggested with humor in his voice.

I laughed again, about to give a sarcastic reply when my phone screen lit up with a text from Stella.

“It's getting late, Alex can't fall asleep, he's asking for you. I'm worried.”

I didn't need this right now. Ignoring the five missed calls from Tanner, I shot her a quick reply. “I'm fine, be home soon but don't wait up.”

Right after I hit the send button, A text came in from Tanner. “Pick my fucking calls you son of a cunt. I know you're at that dingy club, don't drive. I'm almost there.”

I clutched my shot glass tight. Why wouldn't these people leave me the fuck alone?

I texted him back. “Get off my dick and give me breathing space, Tanner.”