10 | Welcome to the Seat

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Chapter Ten: Welcome to the Seat

"don't mean to come off cold,
I don't want to be alone,"
- ruel

M O N I C A

   I flinched when the ice dispenser rattled, just before it released over five ice cubes in the same second.

   Too tired to function, my feet stumbled over each other as I twisted around to the counter, pouring milk into the glass that I'd just filled with ice. It wasn't long before my iced coffee was done and I sat on the counter, sipping it soundly.

   Slowly, it felt like my eyes widened naturally as I grew more alert than I was before. I eyed the tall glass with admiration. "Heaven," I mumbled, grateful for the coffee, like any sane person.

   I'd woken up today at ten, but I couldn't go back to sleep. It took me thirty minutes to get out of bed and brush my teeth before I could finally make myself the addicting drink. I made it with ease, since Chris was likely at work by now, and mom was probably in her bedroom, avoiding me.

   Since Monday, I hadn't seen her around on the first and only floor. With it being Wednesday now, I found myself breathing with ease.

   The thought of Monday, however, got me thinking back to what Liam said before a group of half a dozen teens walked toward Mel's diner, stopping him from speaking. In the moment, I hadn't been too frustrated since the word wife kept on being repeated in my mind.

   Since then, though, I'd given a lot of thought to his confession.

   Wife. Liam was married. And she died.

   I didn't know what to think, nor did I know what to say to him now. How does one heal after losing someone who was theirs? I never thought how mom took it when dad died, since I'd only been twelve. She moved from alcohol to drugs, but Liam... he seemed completely distant to all people, at least, he used to.

   Liam has been broken for so long. Anastasia's words rung in the back of my mind just as I heard a sound, snapping me from my thoughts. When I looked up from my glass—which happened to be empty now—I noticed that mom stepped into the kitchen with her robe on, staring at me hesitantly.

   Not saying anything, I jumped off the counter and was about to step passed the entry way when I heard her inhale quickly. "I have a job interview," she rushed out and I froze, my back facing her while it straightened.

   "Congratulations," I drawled out, making sure I kept my tone light. "Hope the interview doesn't end with you coming home and snorting a line."

   "Monica," she pleaded. "Please, I'm trying to be better."

   I spun to face her. "Go, be better," I forced a smile. "Hope you enjoy getting a nine to five job. Enjoy coming home and looking around the house, where you definitely blessed each space by doing—"

   "Please," she choked out, by I tsked, shaking my head.

   "See you, Fiona," I responded with as I turned back and walked out of the kitchen.

   I barely walked a few steps when she called out, "I'm sorry! Isn't that enough?"

   I found myself shivering at her words. "It'll never be enough," I breathed out before wrapping a hand around my door handle. Not waiting for her response, I entered my room and slammed the door shut before I leaned my back against the surface.

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