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He sits all alone in his old, ragged recliner in the dark. Thinking back on his wasted, lost past. It was long before he encountered the bottle and the demons that drove her away. It seemed so long ago, when she was here with him. Loving him, caring for him.
Needing only him.
In his hand he is holding her picture, her image all tearstained and worn. Tonight he's embracing reality and he curses the day he was born. He thinks back on that day, when she walked out the door. The darkness still echoes her warning, you can't have two loves in your life Ray! It's me or that damn bottle, she had screamed at him.
Now the things that will haunt him until the day that he dies, is the smell of cheap whiskey and the sound of goodbye.
Since the hour that she left he's been sober. Each breath that he draws makes him think. He thinks about how the light of his life is gone forever, because he traded her love for a drink.
"I left my life for you damn it!" he yells into the dark room. "It's just not fair! This is what you asked of me Drew! You wanted me to be me! And you couldn't take it could you! You just didn't understand!"
Tears run unchecked down his face. "I loved you Drew!" he screams out. "I loved you! I still do."
He angrily clutches her picture in his hand, gazing down on her beautiful smile, remembering the day it was taken.
"We were so happy then, weren't we baby?" he whispers down to her. "If only things had been different."
"Yes Ray, if only things had been different," she whispered to him.
He looked up in shock. "What are you doing here Drew?"
"I couldn't stay away Ray," she breathes, kneeling down in front of him at his chair. She reaches up, taking the ragged picture from him, smiling at the memories it conjured up.
"What happened to us Ray?" she said, glancing up at him almost shyly, a bittersweet smile on her face. "Things were going so well for us, for awhile there. Why did you change?"
"I didn't change Drew," he said, sadly casting his gaze down on her. Reaching out, he smoothed her hair down. "At least I didn't change alone. I did what you wanted me to do, I became what you wanted me to be. I'm sorry if it wasn't what you expected."
"Ray, I didn't ask you to start drinking. All I asked of you was love. Love and understanding. I didn't ask you to go back to your family and their stupid business. I didn't ask you to drink and get drunk every night. All I wanted was us to be together." She sighed. "I thought I would be enough. I thought I could help you through it."
"You can't just change who I am Drew, you helped me to realize that. I'm a Santos," he says, raising up in his chair with mock pride. "I am who I am."
"Ray," she says softly, looking him evenly in the eye. "You are not a bad person! You are not a drinker and you sure as hell are not a killer."
"Drew," Ray said, gently raising her chin to look at him. "If you think that, you never really knew me then."
He lovingly stroked her face while his eyes told her that he wasn't all that he seemed.
She gasps as he leans over and kisses her fiercely. He roughly pulls her to her feet, picking her up swiftly in his arms. He carries to the back bedroom, the one that had once been their room. She willingly kisses him back, wanting to stop him, but she'd never been able to resist him.
He slowly lowers her onto their old bed, hurriedly shedding their clothing. They come together in a rapid rush of arms and legs, their bodies quickly molding to each other, remembering every curve. Remembering the way they fit together so perfectly. Remembering every desire, caress, every passionate embrace.
When it was over, they just laid there on their bed, breathing heavy and cursing themselves for what they had just done.
"Look..."
�"Uh Drew..."
They laughed nervously. "You go first," Drew said softly.
"Look Drew," he said, rolling over to look her in the eye. "I didn't mean for that to happen. I know...I know you'll never accept me for who I am. I don't blame you. I have trouble accepting myself sometimes. But I never ever meant to hurt you."
"I know that Ray," Drew said softly, kissing him gently on the lips. "And I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what," he asks, getting up and slipping on his pants.
"Sorry for what I'm about to do," she said, rising from the bed and pulling on her skirt.
Ray sits back down on the bed, holding his head in his hands.
"I can't believe," he said, through gritted teeth, "that you are going to do this to me. Again." He paused, seeming to try to gather up strength. "How can you do this Drew? Why? Why are you doing this?"
"Ray," Drew said, sighing and coming over to sit beside him on the bed. "I can't live like this Ray. Not knowing where you are, what you are doing, who you are with...I just can't handle that any more."
"I can change Drew," he said, groaning, knowing she wouldn't believe him.
"Ray, you say that all the time, and it's yet to come true. I'm sorry, but I have to stay away from you. For you and for me. You just said you knew I couldn't accept you for what you are. You shouldn't have to change for me. The only person you have to change for is yourself."
She arose from the bed and headed into the kitchen. Gently opening the door to let herself out, she looked back to him, standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but his jeans. Fighting every desire to go back to him and comfort him, she said, "I'm sorry Ray. I love you."
And with that she was gone.
Ray stumbled into the kitchen, taking a seat at the old, beaten table. Glancing bleary-eyed around, he spotted an old bottle of tequila laying behind the trash can in the corner.
"What the hell," he said, standing up and retrieving the half full bottle.
Returning to the table, he sat the bottle down in front of him, staring at the slightly yellowed label. Slowly removing the cap, he sniffed the contents, vaguely repulsed by the smell of the liquor. Throwing back his head, he took a long swig, gasping as it burned it's way down his throat.
Sighing, he set the bottle back down on the table.
"She's right."
He paused for a long while, deep in thought.
"I'll never change for her."
"I have to change for myself."
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