Under The Influence: N 2 Deep

108. Luckiest Man

Joe's POV

As I approached Shawnie's house, I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart and quell the overwhelming emotions threatening to consume me. My knees were beginning to feel weak, and I knew I had to gather myself before facing her. She couldn't see me like this, weak and broken.

Anger still simmered within me, but beneath it all, there was a profound hurt that cut me to the core. Walking over to Shawnie's house had given me time to reflect, to acknowledge a truth I had been avoiding. I had never truly allowed myself to grieve for my sister. My relentless pursuit of revenge against the person I felt was responsible for her tragic end had overshadowed the need to mourn her loss. Now, finally confronting that person, I felt a shift within me—a release of sorts.

Don't misunderstand me; the anger wasn't going anywhere. It still burned hot within me. However, it was as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, allowing me to breathe a bit easier. I knew I would never let go of that anger, but it felt less overwhelming when it came to the forefront.

My sister, Josie, had meant the world to me. Despite being her big brother, she had played a significant role in shaping the man I had become. Together with our mother, the three of us had forged a tight-knit family unit. I had always been the protector, the one responsible for her safety. That's why I had taken the job at the club with her, to keep an eye on her and ensure her well-being. I couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility for her death, as if I had failed in my duty to protect her.

I tried to push all of those thoughts and feelings to the back of my mind as I opened the front door. I was expecting to be greeted by her, but she wasn't there. Actually, no one was there. Everything was dark. I guess everyone had gone to bed for the night. I just walked upstairs to her bedroom. I could've just gone to mine but I knew she would want me with her.

The weight of my emotions pressed down on me, making it difficult to maintain my composure. Every step felt like a struggle, like wading through deep water. I needed to hold it together.

I took a breath and slowly opened her bedroom door. I stepped in and closed the door behind me. She was asleep. Thank god because I couldn't contain the overwhelming sadness any longer. I sank to the floor, my back against the door, and let the tears flow silently. It was in this quiet moment that I allowed myself to grieve for Josie, to feel the pain of her loss, and to come to terms with the guilt I had carried for so long.

The torrent of emotions overwhelmed me, and I couldn't stop the tears from flowing. It was a depth of pain and sorrow I had never experienced before. My usually controlled exterior crumbled, and in the solitude of that dark room, I let myself quietly grieve for Josie in a way I never had before.

The grief was raw, unfiltered, and almost uncontrollable. It felt like an agonizing release, as if I had been carrying this for far too long. At that moment, I realized that I couldn't keep holding it in, pretending to be strong. I needed to face the pain, the guilt, and the loss head-on.

Out of nowhere, Shawnie sat up in bed. "Joe?" she called out, her voice laced with concern.

Shit, I forget she's a light sleeper. I tried to compose myself as quickly as possible, wiping away the remaining tears from my eyes. I didn't want Shawnie to see me in such a vulnerable state.

"Yeah, babe, it's me..." I replied, my voice carefully devoid of emotion.

Shawnie turned on the light on the nightstand and got out of bed, quickly walking over to me. Her face had confusion all over it as she knelt down beside me. As soon as her knees hit the hardwood floor, so did my emotions.

"What's going on? Why are you sitting here in the dark?" She gently touched my face, her thumb wiping away tears that I hadn't managed to hide.

"What's wrong?" She wraps her arms around me. I couldn't hold back the flood of emotions any longer. Her touch and her comforting presence broke the dam that had been holding back my grief.