Playing Games with The Player: GAME OVER (Sequal to PGWTP)

Chapter 14

Gabby's POV

I walk downstairs and look around at the filthy mess for a few seconds.

God. Nash has trashed this place.

I take in a deep breath, and can't stand to look at all of this for another second.

I pull my hair back, grab my phone and earbuds and pick out a playlist before shoving my earbuds in my ears. I walk into the kitchen, reach under the cabinet and grab two large black trash bags, and begin in the kitchen.

I grab empty cans, glass bottles, and other disposable trash and shove them in the back.  I head into the living room and proceed to do the same routine. I put all the half-empty cups, cans, and bottles  in a pile and pour them out in the sink before throwing them away.

I tie the bag up, and set it in front of the back door to take out before continuing to clean up, grabbing some cleaning supplies and wipin down all countertops, the dining room table, the coffee table, and side tables.

I then grab a broom, sweeping the floor, and finish the kitchen by mopping the floors.

I grab the vacuum and pull the coffee table out, plugging the device in the wall and vacumming the floors, and inbetween the couch cushions.

I look at the time on the stove, and nearly 40 minutes have past.

I sigh and look around again, unplugging the vacuum and lipsyncing to the music blasting in my ears.

I glance up, quickly jumping and gasp loudly at the silhouette.

"Jesus." I rip the earbuds out of my ears.

My heart nearly rips out of my chest as it pounds.

"You didn't have to clean up." I look up at him confused.

"Your kitchen and living room were a cry for help." I continue to put up the vacuum.

"Thanks." He sighs and I nod.

I look back up at him and he wipes his eyes.

"When did you start drinking?" I ask him, and he looks away a bit.

He stays quiet for awhile before answering.

"Not long." He lowers his head and sighs.

Within an hour, I met him again for the first time in months, and somehow ended up in this situation.

"Why did you start this?" I look at him questionably and concerned.

He doesn't answer, instead he tries to draw his attention to everything else but me.

My rib cage feels as of its collapsing as my heart crumbles beneath my chest, as I quickly realize the distance between us now. The thought of Nash completely forgetting who I am comes to surface. He knows me too well, or at least used to, enough to acknowledge my harmlessness when it came to hearing how he felt. I wouldn't reject his feelings or problems, I would be understanding without ever judging him. But now, things are so different. We've both changed, and our lives parted for a reason.

I can't help but almost feel sorry for him, seeing Nash in such a vulnerable state.

A large lump forms in my throat as he peers down at me like a helpless child.