Hurt

FICKLE HEART

It was 5 o'clock in the morning when the doorbell rang on Sunny Side. Bette was up at that hour, she usually spent 15 minutes before getting dress to pray. Praying was Bette's special time in the morning because with praying she felt like she could reached out to her mother and she would feel serene. Praying was her strength in the morning. But today it seemed that her praying was disturbed by the sound of the doorbell.

"Who could've be at this hour?" Bette muttered.

The doorbell rang even louder and persistent every second, which every step Bette took down the stairs she grew more anxious and a bit scared of who might've be behind the front door. When she reached the hall she saw Wilbur was ready to open the door. The old butler looked at her as to ask her approval first and Bette nodded.

Wilbur opened the door and found George, "Mr. Covington?" he said. The old butler could smell the alcohol all over George, he looked ragged and sleep deprived.

"Wilbur, my man! I need to see my beloved fiancée!" George took a step in and then shouted, "Bette! Bette my darling, where are you?"

"George!" Bette exclaimed. She walked fast towards the front door and discovered George looking like a mess. "Whatever happened to you? Are you drunk?"

"Bette my lovely fiancée! How I've missed you so much!" George squeezed his way in and grabbed Bette's neck and forcefully kissed her. "Let me kiss you, my dearest!"

"George, stop it!" exclaimed Bette and pushed George away. "You said you never drunk anymore, why now?"

"Give me a kiss, woman!" he said and once again force his lip to Bette.

Wilbur pushed George out of the front door and shield Bette with his old body, he was standing between Bette and George. "Mr. Covington, maybe you should go home and rest, sir."

"No! You old brute! I want my fiancée! I want you, Bette!" he shouted louder.

"That's okay, Wilbur. I'll handle this." Said Bette.

She stood in front of George and helped the man that was now barely could walk straight. Bette smelled the pungent odor of alcohol all over her fiancé. It was the same stench of her late father and the smell really broke her heart and without even knowing it she shed tears. She felt sorry for George but at the same time she was disappointed. He worked so hard to be sober and he was sober for years, what made him fell off the wagon?

"Bette!" he exclaimed and cried out loud. "Bette, I'm sorry!" he cried so loud.

"George, please! Don't shout, you'll wake aunt Elda." Bette led him to the garage. "Listen, I'll drive you home, okay?"

The drive to Breeches Lodge was really unpleasant not because of George's drunk behavior or even his alcohol odor but it's because of a deadly silence between the supposedly to be wed couple. George sat silently on the passenger's seat next to Bette who was driving. Bette also drove silently, she couldn't find anything to say at all.

Bette rang the Breeches Lodge doorbell and along came Herbert, the old butler opening up the door and looked quite surprised to his master apparently drunk and ragged. He helped Bette carry the drunk man upstairs to his room.

"Why did you bring me back here, Bette?" asked George when they were stepping up the stairs. "Bette! Why do I have to come back to this shitty house!" he is now shouting.

"Psst! George you'll wake everybody!" whispered Bette.

George laughed out loud, "Veronica won't wake up! She's been popping sleeping pills like it was some darn candy!"

"George, please!" exclaimed Bette now more firm.

"George?" Joan was standing in front of her room. She was Veronica's granddaughter who was spending holiday in The Breeches Lodge. She is Emilia's best friend, a teenagers. "Is he okay?"

"He's okay, dear. Just go back to bed." Said Bette reassuringly.

Annemarie who was standing at the end of the hall – supposedly cleaning the flower vase – heard the commotion and moved nearer to scene. She saw Bette and Herbert carried George, who looked like a road kill, to his bedroom. She pretended to dusted and slowly moving closer to George's bedroom so she could eavesdrop.

"George, what happened to you?" asked Bette. Herbert had excused himself.

George didn't say a word. Bette took off his shoes and his socks and tuck him in warm blanket.

"George, I wish you would tell me why. You used to tell me everything."

George still silent.

"George, did I do something wrong?" asked Bette again now sounded so desperate.

Hearing those words just took George off of his patience, the words had made him embarrassed because God only knows what wrongness that he have done to Bette and yet the poor woman thought it was all her doing.

"Get out, Bette!" he shouted.

"George..." Bette stood erect, she couldn't believe that George could be so cruel. He practically threw her out.

"I said get out and leave me alone!"

Tears rolled down to Bette's chubby rosy cheek. Her heart crushed, her step felt shaky. She closed the door softly and to her surprised she locked eyes with Annemarie who clearly was eavesdropping. Bette smiled to Annemarie and left.