MacGyver Imagines

"Used to Love You Sober"

A/N: Hi everyone! I know you've all been waiting for this one! This is the second part to my most recent story "Marry Me💔." It's also a request from mrsgregorovich14 . As always, I hope you all like it! 💜
Song: "Used to Love You Sober" by Kane Brown
Rating: Everyone

***Mac's POV***

"Life was great, would not change a thing. I had it all, but with you I had more. But, out of nowhere out of the blue our love turned into a war. Now you're gone, you moved on, and I hate the way I'm feeling."

I convinced myself she was happy. That's all that mattered. I think, in my mind, it made the pain I was feeling a little bit more bearable. But, they say that time is supposed to heal all wounds. I never thought the pain would actually get worse as time went on.

It's morning, and I'm stuck here in my bedroom. In honesty, I've barely left in the past week since the wedding. I sit on the floor, propped up against my bed as I listen to the rain fall outside. Each drop gently hits the window, filling me with a lulling, sleepy sense.

Sure, it's still morning, but that doesn't stop me from nursing a half-empty bottle of beer. The now-warm liquid is dreadful in my mouth, but I don't care. It numbs the pain all the same.

Bozer knocks on my door for the hundredth time. "Mac, are you coming? Matty called and said she needs us."

"I'm not going," I reply flatly through the door.

"Please open the door."

"No."

"Don't make me break it down."

I sigh in aggravation, stand, and slump over to the door. I open it, walking away before even looking Bozer in the eye.

I plop back down on the floor as Bozer sees the bottle sitting beside me. "Dude, it's 8 AM."

I roll my eyes, my eyelids feeling tired and heavy. "Do you have a point?"

His eyebrows knit, a crease forming on his forehead. "I'm worried about you. Ever since you left the wedding reception last week, this is all you've done."

"Are you going to sit here and lecture me again about why I should have told her how I feel?"

"No. It didn't help the first five hundred times." He sighs. I know he hates seeing me like this. But, I just need more time. "She's coming back to work today, you know."

"Which is exactly why I'm not going."

"She's going to wonder where you are."

"Tell her I'm sick. I don't feel well."

Bozer shakes his head. "Fine. But, you'll have to answer to Matty."

With another sad glance my way, he stands and leaves me to sulk.

"I'm on the floor, cursing at the door. Brokenhearted with a pounding head. And I know I gotta let you go. So, the liquor helps me forget your name, your face, and this pain I can't erase."

I know I should have told her. I know it. Right now, the pain I feel and the wondering fills me with a dreadful weight. Would it have changed anything if I had told her? The wondering is what's killing me the most.

I didn't think so before, but as time has passed, I'm beginning to think that admitting the truth and risking our friendship would have been worth it. Even if she had laughed in my face, gotten angry, or even stormed off and never looked back - any of it would have been better than this.