Page 112

She’ll never take me back, and fuck, I don’t deserve to have her.
I crumble against the wall, gasping for air. Hot tears burn my eyes, and the pounding in my head intensifies. My shivering body hunches forward, and I bury my head in my knees. I want to fucking die, end this torture, but my brain scrambles to make sense of it all, to absorb the gravity of my mistake.
Not a mistake. An annihilation.
How many times do I need to do this? When will I learn?
It only took one night to destroy my entire life. No, one drink.
It doesn’t matter what brought me there.
I felt the rush, the intensity, with the first sip. The euphoria was almost orgasmic. The weight of my issues fell away, and as the night went on, I was numb.
Nothing mattered but that moment, that high. I surrendered to oblivion. The boundaries of reality faded, and I found solace in the escape it provided.
I was Jackson O’Reilly, revered hockey god and the life of the party. I was invincible.
Yet, here I am, alone and on edge.
No one is rushing to my aid—not my teammates or supposed friends.
Not Ethan, who I’ve become close with.
And definitely not Aurora.
She’ll never speak to me again.