Jewell was 100% mortified as she slammed the door to room number seven closed behind her and sunk to the floor against it. She had lost it downstairs in the Inn, absolutely lost it! She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that today fell under the heading of one of the worst days of her entire life.
It had started out well enough. She had forced herself to go to Erin?s luncheon and be social; she even dressed up nicely. It had been nice to be surrounded by friends, people she knew genuinely cared for her. However, she just wasn?t in the spirit for such socializing and had left after an acceptable amount of time to go to the graveyard instead. She was better at talking to dead people these days, it seemed.
Despite her state of dress?a thin, white halter dress was barely suitable for a cemetery visit in the snow?she sat before Skyler?s grave for some time, crying. Snow continually fell upon her but she did not move, sobbing her heart out to her departed lover. Not only had she now survived three weeks to the day without him but it was also a day dedicated to lovers. There was only one person she could imagine herself spending such a day with; therefore, she kneeled before his headstone until she bordered on dangerously cold.
Leaving the cemetery had been hard, it always was. She did not want to leave him behind. She forced herself, shivering uncontrollably, to go to the Inn where she proceeded to get herself fabulously drunk over the next several hours. She knew she was indulging, attempting to drown away her grief. It didn?t quite matter when she thought about it. It didn?t quite work, either.
The whiskey and tequila humming through her veins allowed her to laugh and smile, make crude jokes and be her old flirtatious self. It was still all part of an act. She was the acrobat, daring the trapeze without a net below her. She had miscalculated a dangerous twist in the air this eve and had gone tumbling down.
The conversation started out innocently enough, and she was too drunk to care that she was flirting with a strange man. Besides, he was nice, right? He made her nervous with that light caress to her cheek but had backed off when she clammed up, no harm done.
It was the conversation about hair that started her fatal fall. First, it was her hair, how blue and exotic it was. Then it was his, long and rather nice. It all came to one conclusion in her mind: Skyler. Skyler?s favorite color was blue. Skyler loved her hair. Skyler had long, gorgeous hair. She loved Skyler?s hair. Skyler wasn?t with her.
The room had suddenly felt too small, her whole world reeling. She had stumbled up with the need to get away, to be alone, to mourn once more. How could she have forgotten? Stephen was suddenly there, providing a way out for her. She would willingly go along, anything to get away!
But no, Rome did not seem to want to let her go just yet. His hand came around her wrist, not forcibly restraining her but it was enough. She felt as though the floor was giving out; it was all too similar to another night. Dueling, drinking, unwanted caresses, a persuasive voice trying to coax her into staying, Tass, Brian, Skyler. Skyler had been there when she had lost it that time, coming completely unglued on the porch of the Inn. And this time? Skyler wasn?t there. He wasn?t exactly needed; Rome let her go and Stephen guided her to the stairs, a reassuring presence at her side.
However, Jewell needed Skyler now that she was alone in room number seven, a room so filled with memories for them. She curled up on the floor, knees pulled up painfully tight to her chest as she started to cry. She was too scared to go to sleep, frightened of the nightmares that would seek her out there. She could not fight them off, not as drunk as she was and not without the strong arms of her Adone around her.
It had started out well enough. She had forced herself to go to Erin?s luncheon and be social; she even dressed up nicely. It had been nice to be surrounded by friends, people she knew genuinely cared for her. However, she just wasn?t in the spirit for such socializing and had left after an acceptable amount of time to go to the graveyard instead. She was better at talking to dead people these days, it seemed.
Despite her state of dress?a thin, white halter dress was barely suitable for a cemetery visit in the snow?she sat before Skyler?s grave for some time, crying. Snow continually fell upon her but she did not move, sobbing her heart out to her departed lover. Not only had she now survived three weeks to the day without him but it was also a day dedicated to lovers. There was only one person she could imagine herself spending such a day with; therefore, she kneeled before his headstone until she bordered on dangerously cold.
Leaving the cemetery had been hard, it always was. She did not want to leave him behind. She forced herself, shivering uncontrollably, to go to the Inn where she proceeded to get herself fabulously drunk over the next several hours. She knew she was indulging, attempting to drown away her grief. It didn?t quite matter when she thought about it. It didn?t quite work, either.
The whiskey and tequila humming through her veins allowed her to laugh and smile, make crude jokes and be her old flirtatious self. It was still all part of an act. She was the acrobat, daring the trapeze without a net below her. She had miscalculated a dangerous twist in the air this eve and had gone tumbling down.
The conversation started out innocently enough, and she was too drunk to care that she was flirting with a strange man. Besides, he was nice, right? He made her nervous with that light caress to her cheek but had backed off when she clammed up, no harm done.
It was the conversation about hair that started her fatal fall. First, it was her hair, how blue and exotic it was. Then it was his, long and rather nice. It all came to one conclusion in her mind: Skyler. Skyler?s favorite color was blue. Skyler loved her hair. Skyler had long, gorgeous hair. She loved Skyler?s hair. Skyler wasn?t with her.
The room had suddenly felt too small, her whole world reeling. She had stumbled up with the need to get away, to be alone, to mourn once more. How could she have forgotten? Stephen was suddenly there, providing a way out for her. She would willingly go along, anything to get away!
But no, Rome did not seem to want to let her go just yet. His hand came around her wrist, not forcibly restraining her but it was enough. She felt as though the floor was giving out; it was all too similar to another night. Dueling, drinking, unwanted caresses, a persuasive voice trying to coax her into staying, Tass, Brian, Skyler. Skyler had been there when she had lost it that time, coming completely unglued on the porch of the Inn. And this time? Skyler wasn?t there. He wasn?t exactly needed; Rome let her go and Stephen guided her to the stairs, a reassuring presence at her side.
However, Jewell needed Skyler now that she was alone in room number seven, a room so filled with memories for them. She curled up on the floor, knees pulled up painfully tight to her chest as she started to cry. She was too scared to go to sleep, frightened of the nightmares that would seek her out there. She could not fight them off, not as drunk as she was and not without the strong arms of her Adone around her.