I thought that I might have to carry him through the house once we got there, but he jumped out of the SUV on his own and stepped inside without a word. I dumped the keys onto a table next to the garage door and followed him. I found him in the kitchen.
“Julian,” I said.
“Hmm,” he said as he popped the top on the unopened whiskey and poured himself a full glass. “Want some?”
“No thanks.”
I didn’t know how to help or what I could do. But drinking was probably not the answer.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?”
“You know, I really don’t.” Then he drank it back like a shot.
“Do you think getting black-out drunk will make things better?”
“Nope,” he said, smacking his lips. “I really don’t.”
“Okay.”
He dropped the glass into the sink and carried the bottle with him to the couch. “But I think it’ll make me forget that tonight happened—at least for a few hours.” He patted the couch next to him. “Come. Sit.”
I dropped the camera on the nearby table, kicked off my shoes, and curled up onto the couch next to him. He turned on the television and wrapped an arm around me. I wanted to believe that things would be better in the morning, but I’d never seen Julian like this before.
I worried that what had happened with his dad had broken him in some fundamental way, and I wasn’t sure who he was going to be in the morning.
37
Jennifer
The next morning, I woke to the sound of Julian vomiting in the toilet.
“Ugh,” I groaned, rolling over and covering my ears with a pillow. Not that it did much to hide the sound of his retching.
He deserved it after he’d had so much to drink that he’d passed out. I’d never seen him drink like that, and I hoped that I never saw it again. It was a new level of terrible.
The toilet flushed, and Julian came back into the room, flopping down on the bed. “Sorry,” he muttered, covering his eyes. “Might have had too much to drink last night.”
“Might?” I said with a laugh.
“I’m never drinking again.”
I shook my head. “Lies.”
“Yeah, but, not anytime soon. Or like that.”
“You wanted to forget.”
He gave me a thumbs-up. “Success.”
I chuckled and dropped out of bed. “I’ll find you some Tylenol.”
“You’re the best.”
I rolled my eyes at him as I headed out of the bedroom. I poured him a glass of water and knocked out two Tylenol from the bottle. I carried them back into the bedroom for him.
“Thank you,” he said, downing them and falling back.
“Eggs and toast?” I suggested.
He groaned and shook his head. “Food is a bad idea.”
“Don’t you have breakfast plans with Weston still?”
“Fuck,” he spat into the pillow. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Shower,” I said, pointing to the bathroom. “And then some toast.”
He grumbled but heaved his body off of the bed and into the shower. I made myself some toast, eating it as I buttered his toast. He came into the living room with downcast eyes, a hand still clutching his head.
I slid the plate across to him on the kitchen island.
“Thanks.”
He took a small bite of the toast, trying to calm his rumbling stomach and ease the hangover that was thick on him. He didn’t say anything, just ate each piece of toast in tiny little bites. I didn’t have any idea how he was going to meet Weston in the state he was in.
After he finished, he cleared his plate, washed it off, and deposited it into the dishwasher. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
“No problem,” I said easily.
“Last night was…” He shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it.”
“It’s fine. You can have a bad night after what you went through.”
He smiled softly at me and then winced. “It seems I’m entitled to a bad morning as well.”
I laughed at him. “When’s your meeting? I left my car at home. Should I call someone to get me?”
“No, I’ll take you.”
“You should take a cab.”
He sighed. “Is it that bad?”
“Yeah,” I said with a smile.
He was still gorgeous to me, but he looked rough from the alcohol. Dark circles under his eyes, pale skin, and his hair was all mussed from the shower. He did not look like he was ready to tackle everything he needed to get through today.
“All right. If you say so. I’ll grab an Uber or something.”
I slid my phone out of my purse and texted Annie to see if she was free. She responded almost immediately, saying that she’d be there ASAP. That she had to get to the hospital and it was on her way.
“Annie is going to get me.”
He blew out a breath. “Well, that’s good at least. Now, if my headache would cease to exist, that’d be great, too.”