Be Mine

I hear a loud thump on the ground and men laughing in the living room. I watch as Jamie and his brother Sam wrestle around. “You know I‘ll always be better at this.I’m stronger and bigger!” Ahh there’s Jamie’s drunken cockiness. Why do men have to wrestle when they get drunk? What is it that they have to prove?

“Aye fuck you.” Sam says. “I'm a lover not a fighter.”

“Stop, you guys are going to break something!” I yell at them. “Then I’ll have to kick both of your asses!”

Jamie straightens himself out and brushes himself off. “Sorry, love.” He puts his hands up and slowly makes his way back to the couch next to Sam and Tristan.

I’m making dinner for our friends when I’m supposed to be on a date with my boyfriend. I honestly wouldn’t mind fighting one of them.
I wipe a tear away from my eye.

“Are you crying?” She rushes to my side to comfort me.
I point the knife at the cutting board. Onions.

“I don’t cry over boys.” I joke.

I hear Jamie’s manic laughter getting closer to where I am. He steps in the kitchen, says hi to Axelle and dumps the foam from his beer in the sink. He grabs another from the fridge.

I can feel him walking up behind me. He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his head on my shoulder. “My Queen.” He kisses my neck but I am not in the mood for him.

“Jamie, I'm trying to slice and dice things. You know how clumsy I am.” I try to make a joke but I’m somewhat serious. “I’d like to keep all my fingers.”

“Ok, I’ll leave you to it.” He kisses my temple and walks away, but the smell of his Cologne, mixed with cigarettes lingers in the kitchen. My eyes follow him back to the living room.

Axelle scoffs and throws a piece of corn at my face. “Christ, Nora. You’re supposed to be mad at Jamie, not eye fucking him!”

I shrug at her. “I am mad but that doesn’t stop me from finding my boyfriend attractive!” I wash my hands and flick some water at her. “Look, it's my body that wants him. Not my mind.” I answer. “We all have our weaknesses and that body is mine.”

When the evening turned to night, Jamie’s friends started to leave one by one. Till it was just Tristan left.

He offered to take Axelle home and for that I was thankful. I knew somewhere in that pea sized brain that this was him trying to say sorry.

Jamie is hardly coherent but he’s resting on the couch. He makes a god awful gagging sound and I rush over.

“Do not puke on the floor Jamie Bower!”

He pretended to throw up. Asshole.

He laughs but his laughter turns into hiccups. I give him a glass of water and we sit on the couch for a few minutes.

“I love you,darling.” He slurs, “Everything will be-” his eyes widen and he stands up, running to the bathroom with a hand over his mouth.

I hate puke more than anything.
You’d think my days of caregiving would have prepared me for moments like.

He pukes in the toilet making the nastiest sounds I’ve ever heard. He catches his breath and rests against the wall for a minute. It looks like he’s falling asleep. I began wondering if he took something. Call me paranoid but I have lost a huge amount of trust in him tonight. I’ve never seen him act this out of it while drinking and I’ve seen him shitfaced.

“Jamie…” I sit on my knees and shake his shoulder. His eyes are glossed over and he’s looking a little paler than usual he slowly closes his lids again. “Jamie…” I lightly shake his face. “Look at me!”
His blue eyes flutter open. “I’m sleepy, darling. Just let me sleep here.”

His eyes widened and he heaved himself back over the toilet. I grab a hair tie from my wrist and sit behind him to pull his hair back.
“You’re not sleeping in the bathroom.”

He starts to slouch over the toilet again. His head resting on the toilet seat. I push him to sit up. “Jamie, can you stand up?” I try to lift him up from under his arms but he’s dead weight.

There was no way I’m getting him off of the ground.

Hmmm

I look around the bathroom to measure the distance from the toilet to the shower. I can drag him over there.

I grab under his arms again. He groans and mumbles a few things but nothing that makes sense. I haven’t had to do this with him before but I wouldn’t be able to sleep until he started sobering up. I’d be too worried that he would drown in his puke.

I lower his torso on to the cold tile making sure his head doesn’t hit the ground. I open the glass door and drag Jamie’s body in. I lean him against the wall and began taking his shirt off. His chest has bruises? Wait…bruises?

I try not to think to much into it.

I grab his watch and undo his belt. His pants aren’t going to come off. He won’t budge.

I’d been so angry at him that I hadn’t realized how sad I was. My eyes start to water but right now is not the time for tears. I lied when I said I don’t cry over boys.

I set his stuff on the bathroom counter and walked back to him.
I take my shirt off at least this way the only thing wet would be my sports bra and shorts.

“Jamie,” I lightly tap his face a few times. “God damnit, Jamie! Why now? Why after 7 fucking years? Why when you’re leaving?” I feel a tear drip down my cheek. “You fucker.”

I turn the water on cold and direct the shower head on him. His eyes open and he’s gasping for air.

“What the fuck?!” He yells. His blue eyes are watching me through the water. He’s angry. I am afraid of drunk angry Jamie. He moves his head out of the water stream. “Can you turn that off? I’m freezing. Bloody hell, Nora. I’m soaked.”

I turn off the water and grab him a towel. I honestly don’t even want to look at him right now.

I chuck the towel his way but I don’t say anything as I head to the door.

“Nor, wait.” He pleads. His voice sounds desperate and as much as I want to turn around and say figure it out yourself, I can’t.
I make my way over to him. His hair is dripping wet and hanging in his face. He pushes it back with the towel and attempts to dry himself.

Why do I still feel bad for him? I want to be angry at him but he’s so pathetic I can’t.

“Jamie.” I put my hands out for him to grab. I help him stand on his feet. Where was this help when I was dragging his ass to the shower?

He looks down at me with eyes that say he’s sorry. “I didn’t mean to get this drunk.” He mutters. “I really wanted to take you out I just…it’s I don't know. A lot.” His eyes fall to the ground. “I should have talked to you but, I..nevermind. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

I shake my head agreeing with him. “I’ll grab you a pillow and blanket.” I lightly touch his chest His eyes follow my hand. “Please get some sleep.”