I Should Have Walked Away.

He unlocked the door of his comfortable flat in the North West area of London and slowly made his way to his personal bar. Tom took a bottle of good red wine from there and opened it with his mouth; he didn’t even take a glass. When he drank it, it made him feel good, with every swallow he felt number, like he was hurt and wine was sedative. He was hurt indeed, the pain was unbearable, and it made him fall to his knees, because he knew that he was the one to blame. How naïve he was, how selfish and how hypocritically he acted to Christine, she left everything because he asked her to, she did everything he wanted – she was everything he wanted.

He finished the first bottle of red wine and quickly took another out, Tom knew that if he was sober, he would do something stupid; he placed the full bottle down, near the sofa and aimlessly wandered around the room with empty one in one hand. Alcohol made him not to feel anything, but it also made him think, he was thinking what went wrong, how was it possible that he did what he did. Tom wasn’t an arrogant fool, yet he acted like one and he might have had his reasons, but now as he thought about it, the reasons were nothing but lame excuses. He kept telling himself that he did it because of her, because she hurt him so much, but he did it, because he liked that power, he wanted her to feel the pain he felt. That Christine was just human like him, that she can bleed.

There was a knock on his door while he threw the empty bottle of wine to the wall as he fell to his armchair and a heavy a quiet sob shook his body, Tom ran a hand through his curly hair while he covered his mouth with the other one, the knock on the door echoed through the flat again.

What has he done? He had lost Christine due to stupid revenge. He had hurt her, his sun, his world, and now she was gone. Wasn’t that what he wanted? To hurt her, for what she did to him out of one stupid drunk night, the knock was harder this time.

Tom stopped sobbing, wiped off his tears and got up, he staggered slightly, but somehow got to the door and opened it, and a grin appeared on his face when he saw who was standing before him.

“Hello, brother. I was just thinking about you” he said with a trace of bitterness in voice.

“Don’t lie to me, Tom, you know I hate it. What happened?” the tall man came in and immediately saw shards of glass and smelt the alcohol “are you drunk?” he then looked at Tom for the first time.

“Yes, indeed I am, Benedict” he gave him a drunken smile, Benedict just furrowed his brows utterly confused.

“What happened?” he demanded to the drunk man “tell me, Thomas!” he grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, Tom quickly raised his head; he snatched from Benedict’s grip and punched him hard.

“Ouch!” Benedict moaned in pain softly and clutched his nose “what was that for?!” he asked angrily.

“Christine broke up with me, you little cunt!” Tom yelled at him, the entire colour disappeared from Ben’s face; he opened his mouth a few times but didn’t say anything. Tom just watched him.

“I am sorry” he whispered finally, Tom was his best friend, he really was sorry.

“Yes, I’m sure you are” said Tom sarcastically and finished second bottle.

“I truly am” Benedict tried to reassure his mate “was it because of that night?”

“Sort of” Tom said and slowly got up to grab another bottle, Benedict stopped him.

“No, you’ve had enough. Tell me, what it was?” he pleaded.

“Because she found me fucking Maya, my best friend” Tom laughed bitterly before he broke into a quiet sob. Benedict didn’t know what to say, it was his fault too. “I just wanted her to feel like I felt, you know?”

“Tom” Benedict tried to sooth him, but Tom stopped him.

“It is not your fault. It’s mine and hers too. Well, maybe you have your share too”

“I am sorry” Benedict said again, hoping his friend would forgive him soon.

“I know”

“No, I mean it. I am really sorry” he looked his friend in the eye, he meant it, he did.

“Well, your apology won’t bring her back. You didn’t sleep with Maya” Tom bent his head down when Benedict didn’t say anything and rubbed his eyes. “I am tired, Ben. I will go to sleep, okay?” he then looked at him, he was knackered.

“Sure, I’ll leave you” Benedict assured him and stopped for a minute to look at him “It is not your fault, Tom.” Tom slowly got up, crossed the room and opened the door for his mate. Benedict stepped out in the hall and looked at him worriedly, Tom look at his friend with no hint of emotion.

“Yes, it is” he said bitterly before shutting the door.