Prohibition

Chapter 51

When Evelyn awoke the next morning, Raymond was gone. Shuffling into the bathroom, she found him bent over the sink, his shoulders heaving. "Raymond?" she ventured. "Are you alright?"

"No." Raymond turned to face her. His face was pale, his hair plastered to his sweaty forehead. "I've already thrown up three times this morning."

"Dear god, Raymond..." Evelyn stared at him. "Are you sick?"

"No." Raymond wiped his mouth grimly. "I know what this is." He chuckled. "My body doesn't like me coming off the giggle water very much."

"You mean you're sick because you're not drinking?" Evelyn could scarcely believe her ears. "I didn't know that would happen."

"That's because you're not a heavy drinker." Pushing past her, Raymond walked back into the bedroom. "I've seen it happen to plenty of men since this goddamn prohibition started. They stop drinking, and suddenly they're dying."

"You knew this would happen." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." Raymond tugged off his nightshirt, and Evelyn saw that his whole body was shaking. "I knew this would happen."

"You..." Evelyn stared at him in disbelief. "You—"

"You amazing, charming, handsome man?" Raymond teased, although his smirk was little more than a grimace.

"You fucking bastard." Crossing the room in swift, angry strides, Evelyn shoved him against the wall. "Why the fuck did you do this to yourself?"

"I thought you wanted me to quit drinking," Raymond said innocently.

"I didn't know this was going to happen!" Evelyn snapped.

"Oh, love, this is only the beginning." Raymond's hand slid down to her waist, his thumb rubbing slow, distracting circles on her hip bone. "If this morning is anything to go by, I'd say I have constant nausea, shaking, hysteria, and possible hallucinations to look forward to. Nice, right?"

"Go get a drink," Evelyn ordered, stepping away from him. "This isn't worth it."

"No, love, I promised you," Raymond said quietly. "And it's a promise I intend to keep."

"But..." she faltered. "How long will this last?"

"A few months, probably." Raymond shrugged. "I don't really know. I'm not a doctor."

"You should go visit one then."

"But I don't like doctors," he complained, sounding just like a petulant child. "They scare me."

"I don't care." Evelyn wrapped her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through his hair. "If you're going to do this to yourself, then I want you to go to a doctor. They'll be able to help you."

"Don't be so sure of that," Raymond grumbled. "They usually do more harm than good."

"Promise me."

A smirk inched across Raymond's face. "Or what?"

"Or what?" Evelyn pulled him closer, molding their bodies together. Raymond's breath hitched and his grip on her waist tightened, his body reacting to their sudden contact. Trailing her lips up to his ear, Evelyn whispered, "Or I'll never let you make love to me again."

"Good threat." Brushing her hair to one side, Raymond pressed a kiss to her neck. "Or it would be if I didn't know you were lying."

"Raymond!" Evelyn's cheeks burned. Was her need for him really that obvious?

"I know you want me," he said in response to her unspoken question. "Right now, you're wondering how bad it would make you look if you pulled me back into bed for a few minutes." He chuckled. "I thought I would be the sex-crazed one in this relationship, but you have truly surprised me."

"Oh, shut up." Evelyn shoved him away. "I'm not sex-crazed."

"It's not a bad thing." Raymond stepped towards her. "It's quite a turn-on, actually."

"Please be serious," Evelyn pleaded. "I want you to get help. Please...I appreciate you pouring all your alcohol out and promising to stop drinking, but without medical assistance, this is just stupid."

"I don't need help," Raymond mumbled. "I'll be fine."

"Fine then." Evelyn reached for her clothing, neatly folded at the foot of Raymond's bed. "Deal with it on your own." Storming into the bathroom, she slammed the door behind her. She emerged a short time later fully dressed, her hair pulled into a loose chignon.

"What are you doing?" Raymond asked as she stalked past him out of the bedroom and headed for the front door.

"I'm leaving." Evelyn snatched her coat from its hook and tugged it on. "You want to handle this on your own; you do that."

"...you're leaving me? Now?" Evelyn had never heard Raymond sound so broken. His whole body was trembling violently, his hand clutching a chair for support so hard that his knuckles were white, and she could see the tendons standing out in his wrist.

"No," Evelyn said gently. "I'm going back to my house until you decide to see sense. I'm not trying to punish you, Raymond," she continued, going over to him. "I'm not just being a nag. I'm worried about you, about what's going to happen to you...about what's going to happen to us."

Raymond's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not a doctor," Evelyn said simply. "I can support you and love you, but I can't help you. I don't know how to help your body get used to being dry. I don't know how to make this change good and not bad."

"I told you, I'll be fine," Raymond insisted. "This will all be over in a few months; I promise."

"But what about those months until it's over?" Evelyn clasped Raymond's shaking hands. "I don't know what to do for vomiting or seizures or hysteria."

"I'll be fine." Raymond squeezed her hand weakly. "I just have to let this run its course."

"No." Evelyn met Raymond's pleading gaze squarely. "You are sick, and you need help." She turned away from him. "So, until you go talk to a doctor, I'm going back home."

"But—" Raymond started.

"No, but's," Evelyn said coolly. "You'll see me again when you've seen a doctor. Goodbye."

Casting one last look at Raymond, she left the apartment. Behind her, the door whispered shut.