Kaitlyn Rai

“look. I’m sorry we don’t have enough money for you to be blowing on drinks and other junk with your friends every day of the week!”

“Since when have you been so concerned with how anyone spends money? Weren’t you the one that went off on that business trip in July? To hang out with your ‘Boys’ down in Vegas?”

“Kaitlyn, you know full well I didn’t pay for that trip!” 

“What do you call losing a grand on blackjack and slots then?”

“OH MY GOD, you never listen to me, you only listen to the things that sound the worst to you!” 

“Oh, and how exactly is that?” 

“Because you magically forget every time you bring this up, that Alex gave me two k to spend in the casino. That ‘grand’ you try to blame me for losing was a gift!” 

“I don’t forget! Babe, I just don’t think it makes sense as to why a man is giving another married man 2k to throw down the drain.” 

“I’m sick of this… you’re doing the same thing as always, just shifting the blame as to why you’re making bad decisions on to me.” 

“I am sorry... For wanting to be able to go out after a long day of work and have a glass or two of some whiskey.” 

“Oh God, here comes the apologies now... “ 

“No, you wanted me to apologize. I’m apologizing…”

“Not like…” I cut him off before he gets to stop me from my fake apologies.

“I’M SORRY! I work from 6 to 7 every day!” Here I am, a working mother who just wants some peace every once in a while, getting told off once again by her overly controlling husband. 

“What’s the point in working so much if you blow it on drinks every night?”

I scoff at the fact that he has the nerve to make me look like the villain once again. I stared into his slanted blue eyes to see nothing but judgment. 

“You know what? AIDEN? I don’t have to take this. Whatever this is supposed to be… and I’m not taking it tonight.” I turn towards the door and reach for my jacket. 

“KAIT?” he calls from behind me. I turn instinctively to see him running his hand through his curly black hair, shaking his head with his other hand on his hip. He calls himself being disappointed in me. I shake my head as I turn back towards the door. I slipped on my Sarah Flint pumps, not even bothering to bend down and strap them on properly. 

“Gonna go drown out your problems in a bottle of alcohol once again, aren’t ya?” His words cut into me. It was as if a part of me was trying to acknowledge he was right. I opened my mouth, partially ready to answer, but nothing came out. I reached for the door and turned the handle before walking down the hall. I walked to the end of it and pressed the button to descend on the elevator panel. Fortunately, the cart was already on the fourth floor, so I didn't have to wait. The doors opened, welcoming me in. I pressed the button to take me to the garage before turning around. I watched Aiden close the doors to the apartment as the doors to the elevator came to a close. 

Finally alone, in peace, and quiet. I began to think about why it’s so hard for Aiden to realize I have needs of my own. He has his art thing, he gets to stay home all day, and play on his computer, while I’m out trying to translate messages from diplomats, making sure I don’t start a war because I said “He wants to kill you.” instead of “He wants to kiss you.” although… the way things go these days, either of those statements could be detrimental.

I look up and notice my reflection in the elevator mirror. My light brown, almost beige colored curly hair framed my heart-shaped face. Despite having tan skin, my face was red as a cherry from being so worked up. 

After hearing the elevator ring, the doors sprung open, allowing me to leave. In the garage, I could hear the sounds of rain coming from outside. I walked up to my Audi, happy to avoid the rain. Reaching my hands in my pocket, I realize, however, my keys aren’t there like I thought they were. “They’re probably back in the house, you dummy…” I think to myself looking past my husband’s Q8. “At least I’m not the one spending almost 70 grand on a car…” I shake my head again, as if my 60 thousand dollar car was any better. Thinking about the fact that I’ve been through so much tonight, I groan and start heading towards the garage's gate, deciding to just head off to the bar in the rain.

***

It ended up taking a lot longer to get there than in thought it would. Going anywhere in heels in the rain is not ideal. This drink was much deserved. I don't think I've ever had such a stressful night. Not only did Aiden and I have another argument, but I also had to walk a long, grueling six city blocks at that. Being out all alone, my hand gripped the pocket knife I kept on me.

 A small sign glows "O'Hara's" in neon purple, though it has a dark undertone to it. Men standing outside, leaning against the wall, were smoking, with cups of alcohol in their hands. I smelled their toxic stench as I walked past, heading towards the glass door. The taller of the two walked front of me towards the door, stopping at it and staring at me. I grip my knife's handle harder, feeling my hand sting slightly from the pressure. "Here you go, ma'am!" He says with a smile on his face, pulling the door open wide for me.

“O... oh… thanks.” I release my grip as I slip into the building. I turn around rather quickly, hearing the bells dangling from the door as it closes behind me. Being in the dark, cold city of Seattle is rather stressful. It often leaves me quite paranoid. I fear that anything can happen. The only thing that just makes it worse is that I don’t have a mode of transportation at the moment. If anything were to happen, I can only imagine it would be much harder to get away. 

I shake those thoughts away as I lower myself onto the magenta bar stool. “Mrs. Rai!” A friendly, Irish American voice greets me. “Having problems with Mr. Rai again?” I don’t say anything, but give him a hearty chuckle. “Whelp… maybe this scotch will cheer you up a bit.” He Says as he pours me a glass of my favorite scotch. Tending to the other people he had sitting at the bar, he leaves me alone as I down one glass after another.

After a while, a rather handsome man came and sat down beside me. The wavy hairstyle, clean-cut beard, brisk blue eyes, all wrapped up in an expensive suit. With the lift of his finger, a cup was slid in front of him, and three cubes of ice were dropped in, then drowned by the pungent smell of bourbon. I watched him take his first sip for the cup as the ice crackled inside. 

“What’s a pretty face like yours doing out so late?” He asked, sounding somehow genuine.

“Trying to drown out the problems I’ve caused.” I say candidly, lifting my glass to my lips to take a sip. Oh, how true that was… My husband and I always argue about money. The simple fact was, I spent too much. Robbing myself of ten dollars with every glass. I’m nothing but an alcoholic at this point. 

"There seems to be no end to the stresses I face. Not as long as I have this shovel in my hand.” I say after emptying my glass. Holding it up with a sigh, I set it back down on the counter and wait for the bartender to come back around so I can start on my fourth.

“Ah… we all seem to like to see how deep we can go sometimes, don’t we?” He says sloshing the alcohol around in his glass, allowing the ice to clink against its inner walls softly. I chuckle softly at his remark and let him continue. “Anyone who can have their drink poured and served to them without a word is in a pretty deep hole.”

I turn to him with a quick snap of my head, confusion written all over my face. “But didn’t you…” I stopped myself, realizing that there was no way he’d known I’d done that… unless he’s been here since before I arrived. 

He points to a little table at the back left of the bar. "I've been here for a bit, and it's about time I get out of here." He says, his eyes wandering downwards as he studied my frame.

I leaned down to catch his eyes before moving closer and kissing him. "A pretty face... like yours? At night? Hmmm, you should let me walk you home." I whisper seductively, still close to his face. I don't know why I did what I did. But because of this, I'd dig myself in a hole far too deep. So deep that I could never return to the surface.

I felt my face redden from such a suggestion, but I didn’t take it back, nor did I even want to. 

“Sounds good to me,” He responded with a sly smirk. 

As we got up to leave, I removed my ring, slipping into my jacket’s pocket. After five years of a seemingly endless, stressful marriage. I took off my ring, and I followed this random man back to his house. I dug so deep I could hear the clack of my shovel. I guess that was rock bottom.