A Sunny Saturday

*Trigger Warning. This story contains elements of substance abuse and mentions of suicide alongside declining mental health.*

It’s been years. Why do the regrets remain. Why are there still questions of something missed, or something that could have been said. We were close. Brothers. He could have come with any problem and we would have fixed it, together. Maybe I was wrong.

The thoughts whipped around Brian’s head as he downed another shot, standing at the kitchen counter. The burn coated his throat. At least he felt something. Releasing a sigh, he poured another. Nearly four years and I still can’t drown it out.

“Getting the party started early, huh?” his wife chirped, strolling through the kitchen toward their living room in his shirt that was at least two sizes too big.

“Of course! Can’t drink all day if you don’t start in the mornin’!” he replied with a smirk, ignoring the pressure in his chest. It was a beautiful, sunny Saturday. Nothing was on the agenda, apart from relaxation and peace. As if he knew peace. He raised his shot glass, failing to recall the last moment his heart fluttered, or excitement filled his heart. The thoughts loomed over him and ruled his mind at any unoccupied moment. He watched her flop onto the couch, propping herself on the backrest, watching him. She twirled her hair around her finger.

He wondered if he should join his friend. Maybe he would let the car drift off the road, or scream and slam on the gas, looking for the perfect tree to wrap himself around. Maybe while she was on her upcoming trip, he would imitate his friend and hang himself in the closet.

“Well, since you’re getting nice and toasted, wanna game?” she said, shaking him from his thoughts.

He chuckled, downing his fourth shot. “Sure. You in a casual or competitive mood, hun?” he replied, grabbing a coke from the fridge to mix with his bourbon.

“Let’s get serious.” she said, with her eyes on him as though she was a hawk, and he her prey. Her face held a mischievous grin. Her eyes emanating an aura of aggression, thirsty for domination.

“Co-op or free for all?” He finished his concoction with a healthy dose of bourbon in a mason jar. Coke for color, as they say.

“You’ll have to drown your sorrows after I’m done with you!” she said, bouncing off the couch and booting up the console.

Oh, if you only knew. He feigned a smile, and took his place on the couch. She plopped down next to him, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t think you can butter me up now,” he started, “You know I don’t hold back.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” She said, nuzzling his shoulder with her head and patting his leg.

Following an extensive session, the score was six to nothing in Brian’s favor. Celia was never disheartened. She always found the positive side of any situation.

“Well, at least it was close on a few!” she said.

He grinned, looking at her. Admiring her smile and optimistic expression. His body had become lighter, his lips easier to curl into a smile. When will it stop. He couldn’t escape the incessant regrets. He shook his head, “Whatever you gotta tell yourself.” He hobbled back to the kitchen to mix another drink.

“Maybe you should pace yourself?” Celia proposed.

He stopped pouring and locked eyes with her, “A bottle a day keeps the doctor away!”

“Look, I know you love it, but let’s be real. You’re always getting wasted, like, every day.”

His smile at this comment was so large he showed some teeth. He let out a laugh to help contain the flame building in his chest, and put the bottle away. “Last one for the day, I promise.”

Celia smiled, “Thank you, movie time?” her body perked at the suggestion.

“Of course, love. You pick.” He said with an easy grin.

She put on her favorite rom-com, and curled into him on the couch. He felt his mind slipping away, back to the pit he was never far from. He took a chug of his drink, hoping it would sedate the thoughts that were rallying to charge. No matter how much he tried, the thoughts evaded his tsunamis of liquid deterrent.

There was no escape. The barrage of ‘what-ifs’ hit him like a train. He felt his chest tighten, his brows furl. His eyes began to sting. He felt the tears welling. He tried scrunching his eyes to contain them. His best attempts at steadying his breath failed, and Celia noticed the quick trembling of his body along with the tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Damn, Brian. I didn’t realize this movie got to you like that.”

Through short breaths he replied, “Yeah. You know I’m just a teddy bear at heart.”

“Oh, I know.” She tightened her hold on him. The pressure from her body offered a moment of reprieve. He stroked her head.

“Thank you.” he said.

“Anytime, love.” she comforted.

“I gotta take a leak.” he said, grunting as he stood.

“Want me to pause it?”

“Nah, it’ll be alright.”

As he closed the door to the bathroom, he turned to face himself in the mirror. His eyes were puffy and red. He sniffled. I fucking hate you. You’re worthless. You could have saved him. What did you miss? What did you say? What didn’t you say? Why didn’t he come to you. He’s gone and it’s your fault. You were his closest friend and you fucking failed. The rivers of tears fell, there was no stopping it. He quietly sobbed, the ugly wrinkles covering his face staring back at him. That’s it. I can’t take it anymore. I’m ending this. When she leaves, so do I.

A gentle knock at the door ripped him from his dark ambition. He wiped his face in a panic, seating himself on the toilet, pretending it wasn’t just a leak he needed to take.

“Brian, are you okay?” Celia asked.

He remained quiet, straining to hold back the sobs. His face scrunched so tight it felt it might rip. He bit into his arm to contain the breaths.

The door opened, and Celia saw the mess he had become. He couldn’t look at her. She inched closer and wrapped herself around him. He sobbed into her stomach, releasing screams of pain. Through the tears, snot, and barrage of high-pitched wails he let out a broken, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize for anything. It’s okay. I’m here.” She consoled, rubbing his back and caressing his head. “I’ll always be here.” She paused. “I know you miss Chris. Let it out.”

At the mention of his name, Brian lost what little grip he had of any remaining composure and the wails grew louder than conceivable. He grasped her shirt in his fists, nearly tearing it. Unable to speak, he nodded as the tears continued to stream from his eyes.