Forked Roads Back

15 - ARCHIE

"WHISKY PLEASE. MAKE IT a double."

The barwoman looks at me, quirking an eyebrow, meaning I know she doesn't believe I'm twenty-one... which is a stupid rule.

"And keep 'em coming," I tell her as I sit down. I put my swollen hand down hard on the bar. It's killing me and all I want is a drink. A hundred drinks.

She comes to stand in front of me and I look up at her when she smiles. Her red lipstick has rubbed off on her front tooth, and I don't have the heart to tell her. Hell, after today, I don't think I have a heart at all.

But I do need a drink. So I do the only thing that's bound to work.

"For each double whisky you pour me, I buy a round for this entire bar," I say the latter part of that sentence louder so as to attract attention from the group of six guys sitting at the end of the bar. "All day," I add, and I notice one of them smiling. I slip my wallet out of my back pocket and flash her my black, unlimited Amex card. 

Her eyebrows raise and she looks to the boy down the other end. 

"Come on, Spence. Give the boy a drink," the guy says. He looks down at my hand, which I'm clenching, despite the pain. "He really looks like he could use one."

I turn my head and nod at him as 'Spence' makes her decision. The whole bar has gone silent as she thinks about it.

"Yeah, come on, Spence, what harm can it do?" I ask. 

She narrows her eyes before she scoffs. "I could lose my job," she says, but she follows it with a laugh and a roll of her eyes. "But it does kind of seem like you need it," she adds, looking at me.

Part of me is glad she doesn't question me any further as she pours me a double whisky and I hand over my card to start a tab. I could feel myself starting to want to shout... and I don't like sounding authoritative after what I'd experienced with Dad. But then the other half of me is telling me that this really isn't a good idea.

I sigh as I look at the drink in front of me and tell myself I have one more chance to walk away from it. One more chance to see that what I'm doing is stupid and to push it away and leave.

But I don't take it.

Instead, I salute her with my glass as I neck it down, revelling in the burn that goes right the way down my throat as the liquid settles in belly. When the whole bar cheers me on, I swirl my finger in the air, requesting another.

Spencer puts it down in front of me, but gives me a look, making me think she'll be keeping an eye on me and what I'm drinking all afternoon.

***

I DON'T KNOW HOW many drinks I have before my ability to see, stand and talk straight diminishes.

I stopped feeling the bottom half of my body at least two hours ago, and I know whisky is singing through my veins as if it were ice. The top half of my body was broken anyway... and I can feel the burning liquid loosening my inhibitions.

It felt good to start with, it always does, but soon I start to feel all my demons closing in on me. And as I go to drink what is probably my twentieth whisky, those same green eyes that were in my dreams are suddenly in front of me. Those green eyes I now know I will never be able to look into again.

I drop my glass instinctively when I see them, making the whole bar go silent, with all heads turning towards me.

"Archie, what are you doing?" the voice asks me, ringing clear in my head despite the alcohol making it fuzzy. To be honest I can't tell if the voice is in my head of if she's actually here, but either way I end up shouting my answer at her anyway.

"I'm here because you moved on!" I yell, bashing my bad hand into the bar in front of me. The spilled whisky from my various drinks splash back up onto my face as I do so, but I don't care. "You moved on without me!" I yell again, slamming my other fist down just as hard.

"I moved on because you told me to!" she says, not raising her voice despite me yelling. After a few seconds I flinch my arm away when a hand touches my arm.

I don't want to hear her excuses.

"I didn't want you to move on!" My voice is quieter now. "I wanted you to fight for me!" The latter sentence comes out as a sob and I know everyone's probably thinking I've lost my mind. I'm sitting here, drunk out of my mind, talking to myself... sobbing to myself. "I wanted you to fight for me!" I say again, this time louder.

My eyes open wider as I realise what I'd just said, but then I laugh at how it seems to be the whisky that's helping reveal the truth.

"I tried," Tessa whispers. "You wouldn't let me."

When I hear those words, I know she's right. I didn't. I didn't let alone fight for me. And I couldn't blame anyone for that decision. It was all me. There was no one to blame here but myself.

I smash my hand into the counter again and before I can hit it again, I feel a very real hand touch my shoulder and pull my head up sharply from the bar.

"Alright son," a male voice says from my left as he slots something into the top pocket of my coat. "I think it's time for you to go."

I shrug him off. "Get off me!" I shove at him as hard as I can but all I manage to do is stumble backwards over my own stool. I land on my hand and I scream out in pain.

"You need to leave," he says calmly and I realise it's the guy that spoke up to say I looked like I could use a drink.

He holds his hand out for me to take, his eyes pleading for me to take it nicely and not make a scene.

"I don't want to have to force you... but I will." His eyes dart to Spencer on the bar, who is holding a phone in her hand.

"I'm fine!" I smack his hand away as I use the toppled stool to help push me to my feet.

As I stand, I see a blonde figure by the door, her back to me and I go into panic mode.

"Tess...!"

I call it louder than I'd ever called out to her before. I use my body, my voice, my soul and all my strength to shout out to her, across the stars. I'm shouting, praying that somewhere, somehow, she'll be able to hear me... wherever she is.

"Tessa!" I yell again, my voice piercing the silence that has fallen over the bar.

"He's gone fucking nuts!" I hear someone say behind me, but I don't care. Maybe I am nuts.

"Tess..." I stagger forward as I fall to the floor again, trying to break my fall on the way down by grabbing a chair.

My body hits the deck. I should feel the pain going through my shoulder at the force of landing, but I don't. I can't feel any pain. The only pain I feel is that crippling feeling of knowing the love of my life, three-thousand miles away, has found someone else to kiss, to love and cherish for the rest of her life.

"Tessa!" I groan. "Tessa!" I shout once more into the floor.

I curl myself into a ball as darkness starts to creep into the corner of my vision and the people start to crowd around me.

"I'm sorry," I finally whisper, my consciousness rapidly flooding away.

Blackness takes me.

But in the last few seconds, I hear a breathless voice calling back to me out of the darkness.

A voice telling me she was here... and that she always would be.