Where Promises Must Glide

21 - Theo

After arriving at her house, I went into the living room first, making sure Ophelia was asleep or at least in her room. I know Juliette would still like to retain some dignity to not show up in front of her daughter drunk and wobbly.

When I saw that she was in her room, and her grandma was reading her a bedtime story—almost about to fall asleep, cuddled next to the sweet lady—I closed the door after giving them both a smile, and went back to my truck to retrieve the drunk Juliette.

I gave her a smile, hopefully trying to lighten the mood. "Have I told you how pretty you are tonight," I whisper into her ear as I pick her up to take her inside. Her arms, instinctively, wrap around my neck, as she nuzzled her face into the crook between my shoulder and neck.

She murmured something that I couldn't hear, but the vibrations her voice made in between my neck caused a groan out of me. I had to keep myself sane for just one night.

I know how to take care of drunk people. My roommates in college were practically alcoholics at the age of eighteen to twenty two, so I know how to get throw up out of practically anything, and the best remedies for a hang over. But none of my friends were as perfect and beautiful as Juliette, and the idea of her having to experience anything, even as small as a hangover and throwing up, makes my stomach turn.

And then the remembrance of my dumbass moment of ignoring her came flashing into my head. It was so unnecessary, and I don't even understand how fucking stupid one person can be to fuck up that badly. I'm not trying to use tonight as some type of redemption arc, but I'd hope she could maybe understand how much I care for both her and her daughter.

"Is it ok if I take off your makeup?" I ask softly, resting her in her bed. Her body was shivering, so I grabbed a heated blanket I know she has, and loves, and laid it on top of her.

"Yes please," she whispered in reply. Nodding, I grab the makeup removers that were sitting on the messy vanity in the corner of her room. Moving over to her, I grabbed one of the wipes, and gently started taking off all the pieces of caked on makeup—including pearls, rhinestones, and lots of glitter.

Once I got most of it off, I threw them all into the trash can, and then grabbed another one to make sure every bit of makeup was off her face. "Do you think you can make it to the bathroom if you get sick?" I ponder.

"I have a trash can that works," she points to the one that is half full in solo cups and makeup wipes. I went to the kitchen, and grabbed a trash bag, dumping the contents in the bag, before replacing it with a small bag that fit perfectly around the metal container. I knew how much people hated cleaning up throw up covered trash cans, especially when you are already hungover and sick.

Then it came to the question of her dress. "Would you like to take it off? Or should I leave?" I didn't know what to ask because I didn't want to be weird and ask if she wanted me to do it, because the answer was probably no.

"I got it," she groaned, as she got up into a sitting position. I turned around, facing her drawers as I grabbed her a pajama set that she had mentioned multiple times is 'the worlds comfiest outfit.' After what felt like a good amount of time, I turned to see a blanket wrapped around her, covering everything but her neck.

"Here," I hand her the pajamas, and walked out to give her some privacy to change. I grabbed a large glass of water, and some Advil to hopefully help with the headache tomorrow. I went to check on Ophelia as well, and noticed that Juliette's mom was asleep next to the kid. She had the book laid on top of her stomach, as Ophelia cuddled into her princess bed—her room was surrounded in pictures and posters and small decoration that I could imagine made Juliette giddy when she found them.

When I returned back with the drink in hand, she was hunched over the trash can, and gagging. I immediately set the water down, and ran over to her. I pulled her hair back, and massaged her back as she released all the contents of her night into the blue snowflakes trash bucket.

I cooed her, helping wipe any loose tears that feel from her eyes. She was covered in a cold sweat, and I opened her window, and helped stand her up so she was right in front of it. I rubbed her back, as she let the cold air hit her face. Her back was against my chest, and I didn't care how cold it was, I was going to stay here until she felt better.

Her body finally got down to a normal temperature, and I wondered how many disgusting concoctions could cause this mess to a person. "Want to sleep?" I question, and she nodded her head, barely speaking this entire time. I changed the bag out, throwing it into the bigger trash back that is now out in the hall, and replacing it with its counterpart bag that I had extras of.

"If you need anything I'll be in the living room," I tell her, smoothing out pieces of her hair from her face. She didn't respond, only a nod, and after making sure the room smelled like peppermint instead of vomit, I walked out.

Y'all I'm alive!!! Ngl I thought the stories were done for. Like was actually going to stop the writing, but apparently I got a spark at 4 am and was too stubborn to let them go.

*if you are reading this before it has been edited, I deeply apologize for any errors*