Page 52 of Inked Desires

“I don’t give a damn,” I snap back.

“That much is obvious,” he sighs, picking up a bunch of keys off the floor.

He’s going to lock the front door.

“Anyway, you can’t tattoo today. And even if I wanted to stop you from drinking, we’re doing it. You need to come down, man.”

He’s right. I can’t handle a tattoo machine with this burning anger inside me without risking hurting someone.

I nod in agreement. Kiran disappears into the back room. For a few minutes, I stay alone in the crushing silence of my shop. The ticking clock drives me crazy.

Kiran returns, a bottle of whiskey tucked under his arm, two glasses in one hand, and a stool in the other.

“You could’ve made two trips or asked me for help,” I say.

“Look like I need help?” he replies, dropping onto the stool.

I roll my eyes. He wants to be funny, but I don’t find it amusing.

He sets down the glasses and bottle on the table. I fill the glasses to the brim and down mine in one gulp. The burn in my throat warms my insides. Exactly what I need. I pour another.

“On a scale from one to ten, how bad is it this time?” Kiran asks, watching me.

I stare at my glass, hesitating on what he wants to hear. That it’ll be fine? That I don’t care about Andrew? That’d be a lie, and I hate lies.

“The number has so many zeros I wouldn’t even know how to say it.”

“Fuck,” he mutters.

I empty my glass again. Goodbye to my resolve not to drown my problems in alcohol.

“Yeah,” I agree.“It’s an unnameable shitshow. He left, my money’s gone, and he thinks I’m the asshole here. When all I wanted was what was his. I gave everything I had.”

“You sure you don’t want him back?”

“Yes,” I simply repeat.

“Are you at least going to file a report?” he asks, glancing at the empty cash register on the floor.

If I really wanted to hurt him, I would. But I know Andrew made sure no one can find him.

“I’d have to see him again for that. And that’s exactly what I want to avoid,” I answer.

Kiran nods, then takes a sip of his whiskey.

“Alright. As long as you don’t shut yourself in and drink every day, I’m good.”

I raise an eyebrow. He’s the one who locked the doors and brought out the bottle, not me.

He notices my look.

“Today’s an exception,” he clarifies.

“If you say so,” I shrug.

A silence falls. Neither of us has anything more to add. Honestly, I don’t want to talk about it. Words won’t change anything. What’s done is done. I just have to reorganize, like I always do. I’ll get through it. One day.

“What made him leave?” Kiran finally breaks the silence.