Chapter 5
Days had turned into a blur since that intimate evening at the Bistro, but for Carla, time had done little to quell the tempest of emotions swirling within her. It was as if each passing moment intensified her confusion and doubt, which fluttered in her chest like trapped butterflies, struggling to escape. Despite the fleeting warmth of Lisa’s embrace still lingering in her memory, shadows loomed larger.
On this particular evening, Carla found herself drowning in despair, the dim light of her living room barely illuminating the weight that pressed down on her chest. The bottle of wine on the table beckoned, promising a momentary escape from the relentless thoughts that plagued her. With each sip, the world outside faded into a dull haze, her worries spiraling away like smoke in the dark.
But even in her inebriation, Carla's mind drifted back to Lisa—the softness of her smile, the sincerity that wrapped around her words like a warm blanket. Just thinking of her made the ache in her heart both sweet and bitter. The alcohol was pulling her into a seductive void, yet a flicker of longing remained, urging her to reach out.
As Carla poured herself another generous glass of wine, the liquid sloshed around, mirroring the chaos in her mind. She lifted the glass, forcing a weak smile at her reflection in the bottle, revealing the weary eyes of a woman caught in a battle with her own emotions.
With each sip, the warmth of the wine enveloped her like a cocoon, dulling the sharp edges of her sorrow and frustration. Yet with each drop that slid down her throat, a deeper ache settled in, intertwining with the fleeting comfort. She began to sway slightly, the room spinning just a touch, as if the walls were leaning in to hear her despair.
"Why can’t I just let it go?" she muttered to herself, the words slurred and filled with sadness. In a fit of impulsiveness, she grabbed a small decorative vase from her table, one that Peter had bought her for her birthday last year. She had always thought it was charming but it now felt like a symbol of the past haunting her. Her fingers tightened around it as she contemplated the path her life had taken, the warmth of the wine emboldening her frustration.
“Why do I even keep this?” she exclaimed, her voice rising, echoing against the walls. As the chaos in her mind reached a fever pitch, she hurled the vase across the room. It shattered against the wall, shards sparkling like broken dreams scattering across the floor. The sound was cathartic; it broke the spell of sorrow, if only for a moment.
A moment of silence followed, then a wave of panic washed over Carla as she stared at the mess she had created—both physically and emotionally.
“Oh no!” she gasped, her heart racing. She leaned down to pick up the pieces, the alcohol blurring both her vision and her thoughts. Feeling responsible for both the chaos of the night and her scattered memories, an overwhelming wave of desperation gripped her.
In a drunken haze, she dropped the small pieces of shattered vase back to the floor. She fished through her cluttered kitchen drawer, her fingertips grazing over chaotic remnants of her life until they landed on the small, creased card that Lisa had given her. It felt like an anchor in a tempest, and suddenly, the thought of calling Lisa became irresistible. She grabbed her phone, fingers fumbling as she dialed Lisa's number. If anyone could calm her storm, it was Lisa.
The phone rang, each sound sending a rush of anticipation tinged with fear racing through her veins. “Come on, pick up…,” Carla mumbled, the phone still ringing insistently in her ear.
“D.S Swain” Lisa's voice came through, vibrant and sharp, cutting through Carla’s drunken fog.
“Lisa!” Carla exclaimed, her voice a cocktail of relief and desperation. “It’s me… Can you come over? Please?”
“Carla? Are you okay?” The worry in Lisa’s voice was palpable, and Carla could hear her shifting gears, readying to come over.
“I’m fine! I just… I need you here, okay? I made a mess… and I just can’t think right!” Carla cried, her voice wavering. “Can you come? Please?” Shame started to creep in but it was quickly drowned beneath the alcohol’s warmth.
“Stay put. I’m on my way,” Lisa replied without hesitation, the urgent sincerity in her words igniting some hope within Carla.
When the call ended, a jumbled mix of guilt and relief washed over her as she sank onto the sofa, staring at the shards scattered before her. It felt symbolic of her life lately—fragments of sadness, confusion, and chaos all tangled together.
When the buzzer finally rang, it felt like both a blessing and a curse. Carla rushed to the door, swaying and nearly tripping over her own feet in her eagerness. Swinging it open, she found Lisa standing there, looking both beautiful and worried. Lisa stepped inside, taking in the scene with wide eyes of concern.
“Carla!” she exclaimed, rushing to the mess on the floor. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
“No, no, I’m fine,” Carla said, her voice slightly slurred as she tried to smile. “Just a little… mishap.”
Lisa knelt down, delicately picking up a small pieces of the vase and examining it. “This looks like more than just a mishap. What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t thinking! I poured a few too many glasses, and I just… I wanted to move it out of the way and it slipped,” Carla lied, a hint of embarrassment creeping into her voice.
“Let’s clean this up first,” Lisa said gently, her voice soothing as she began to gather the shards. “Then you can tell me what’s really going on.”
As they worked together, the tension in the room began to dissolve a little. Carla felt a flicker of gratitude towards Lisa for being there. “I didn’t mean to call you in a panic like this,” Carla finally confessed, her voice softer.
“Hey, it’s okay. Better to call than to deal with it alone, right?” Lisa said with a reassuring smile. “You know I’m always here for you.”
Once the mess was cleaned up, Lisa joined Carla on the sofa, her brow furrowing before she spoke. “Talk to me, what’s going on?”
“Just… everything,” Carla sighed, frustration mixing with vulnerability in her voice. “I thought I could handle it all, but it just became too much….”
“Carla,” Lisa said softly, placing a comforting hand on her knee, “you don’t have to pretend anymore. You’re safe with me. Just let it out.”
Tears threatened to spill over as Carla’s defenses crumbled, so she took a shaky breath. “It’s just... all of this weight crushing me. I thought I could find my way back, but every time I climb, I slip back and drown. And you… you made me feel so much better the other night, but now it feels like the darkness is closing in again.”
With a sigh that was part relief, part sorrow, Lisa moved closer, looking deeply into Carla’s eyes. “You don’t have to handle everything by yourself, Carla. I care about you, and I’m here, every step of the way. We can face this together.”
“Thank you,” Carla whispered, her voice barely a breath, trembling with vulnerability.
Silence enveloped them, thick with unspoken understanding as both women locked eyes, a universe of emotions swirling silently between them.
Lisa finally broke the stillness, her tone gentle yet firm. “What do you need from me? Do you want me to stay for a bit?”
“Yes, please. Can you just hold me?” Carla's plea was soft, aching with a desire for connection amidst the turmoil.
“Of course, come here,” Lisa replied, shifting herself on the sofa. Carla nestled into her, feeling the warmth radiating from Lisa as she wrapped her arms around her waist, a safe haven in a tempest of feelings.
In the comfortable silence that followed, Lisa softly stroked Carla’s hair, fingers gliding like a soothing balm over her scalp. In her still-drunken state, Carla began absentmindedly tracing patterns on Lisa’s arm, a gentle caress that sparked a heat between them. Lisa felt electricity course through her, warmth pooling dangerously low, but she stifled any overt reaction, concentrating instead on offering comfort to her friend.
Breaking the silence, Carla whispered, her voice soft as a feather yet heavy with longing, “You make me feel safe.”
Those simple words wrapped around Lisa like a warm embrace, sending a rush of warmth through her chest that mingled with a deep, indescribable ache. In that moment, everything else faded away—their worries, the chaos outside, the relentless shadows. “Good,” Lisa whispered back, her voice filled with an earnest determination. “I’ve got you.”
With that, she hugged Carla a little tighter, feeling the fragile weight of Carla's pain pressing against her heart. It was as if they were both holding onto one another for dear life, a lifeline exchanged between them. In that embrace, surrounded by the cocoon of trust and vulnerability, Lisa vowed silently to be the shield against Carla’s darkness, promising that no matter how stormy the seas became, they would weather it together.