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He’s right, it’s too late.
Why did those words stab Clay in the heart and made him bled out any remaining feelings he had left? He was no stranger to pain, but why did Danielle’s words give him an excruciating, merciless suffering? Why couldn’t he just kill him right then and there?
Ever since that night, Clay grabbed any poor bottle that was in his sights and drank every last drop in his study room. The only time he would stop drinking is when he felt the sudden drowsiness and let the darkness consume his conscious.
It has been like this for eight hours, then eight days...eight weeks...eight months from Clay adopting the more dangerous habit until Orel opened the study room door one day to check on his dad, lying on the skinned bear rug with a non-surprising bottle of champagne in his hand.
“Dad?” Orel quietly said. He intentionally let the door open wider so the light from the hallways could cast on Clay’s eyes.
With the plan being a success, Clay groaned as he was slowly waking up. He would have had a headache to welcome him, but he was used to the company that it did not bother him anymore.
“Dan…Danielle?” Clay said with a fittingly broken delivery. “Is that…is that you?”
“No,” Orel replied as he closed the door. “It’s me, Orel.”
“Orel?” Clay lifted his upper body and turned his head to face his son. Any compassionate father would greet his son with a smile and tender eyes, but Clay was not like any other father. No, something much worse. “Orel…”
Orel would have been numbed and irritated to Clay’s disappointed tone in calling his name, but this one was different. This one was…malicious.
“Look, I’m just here to check on you,” Orel nervously said as he cautiously opened the door again. “It’s been eight months since you locked yourself in your studies. I know you had something with Coach Stopframe, but it’s time to move on. You need water and food and-”
Clay threw the bottle at Orel, disappointed by his fast reflexes as it landed on the door.
“What is wrong with you?!” Orel went towards the bookshelf.
“What I ‘need’ is my Danielle,” Clay’s voice was deep, desperate, and filled with venom that was ready to strike. He manage to balance his body as he walked slowly and closer to his son. “The Danielle you took from me.”
“What are you talking about?! MOM!”
Clay swiftly grabbed Orel by the throat and lifted him up in the air. Despite his appearance, Clay’s grip was stronger than Orel anticipated. He still believed that Clay was not strong per se, but he knew he was willing to put in the extra effort to make his son suffer.
“Don’t you dare call on that fucking whore!” Clay slammed Orel’s head on the bookshelf. “What did you tell him?! What did you tell Danielle?!”
“That you’re an awful person!” Orel rapidly snapped back. “A bad person who isn’t worthy of any kind of love from anyone, especially his own family!”
“What did you just say, boy?”
Orel knew exactly what caused him to ask that and smiled in an antagonistic way.
“A bad person who isn’t worthy-”
Clay slammed Orel’s body on the floor and forcefully stopped on his feeble body, causing Orel to shriek out in pain.
“Oh, you’re just asking for me to shoot you again, aren’t ya?” Clay knew it was deranged for him to say that, especially in a cheerful manner, but the alcohol did not make him care. Maybe he would not care if he was sober. Who knows? All he wanted was for his family to disappear, starting with the eldest boy. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, Orel, I don’t care if you guys hate me. The. Feeling. Is. Mutual.”
“Face it, Dad!” Orel coughed up and managed to stare at Clay deep into his eyes. “No one will love you…you won’t let them! Because you’re awful when you’re drunk and sober! That’s why he rejected you! You. Need. Help!”
“Why you!” Clay was trying to come up with an insult, but how can he insult his son now when he was telling the truth? Pride wanted to take over, but realization was a force to be reckon with.
“You’re going to die alone, Dad...and no one will miss you,” Orel continued. “Do you want that?”
Clay lifted his foot off Orel’s body and observed the floor with a regretful glare.
“Watch the glass.”
Orel quickly got up from the floor, dusted himself off and followed his father’s advice as he exited out the room. Clay sat down in his leathered study chair and examined the champagne-stained door in front of him, replaying what was just said to him.
“I need help? Please,” Clay scoffed.
Though as he thought about it more, the possibility was getting more tempting. What didn’t he need help on? His family, his relationships, his parents, his job, so many mysteries that were eager to be unraveled by someone.
“Hmm…when the time comes, maybe.” Clay said as he grabbed the unfinished glass of highball cocktail.
⏱
Clay drove to the Martin Luther’s Protestant Hospital to see Nurse Bendy; if there was anyone who knew a thing or two about getting help, it was her.
He entered the pristine, chlorinated-scented hospital and recognized one of the doors up ahead by its number: 187. He knocked on it a couple times before the blonde beauty opened it up and gave the older man a surprised look.
“Clay? Surprised to see you here.” Nurse Bendy said, welcoming Clay inside. “How’s the family?”
Clay sighed as he sat down on the nearby chair, “A pain as usual, but they’ll be gone next week, and I decided to take advantage of it.”
Nurse Bendy gasped in disgust as she closed the door, “Hey! I know I’m easier than the average girl, but I have limits now!”
“I don’t want to sleep with you!” Clay was taken aback by the response. “I need your advice on something!”
“Oh…then what is it?” Nurse Bendy sat down on the empty medical bed, kicking her legs playfully.
Clay gulped for his upcoming statements, “I need…I need help with my problems while they’re gone. I don’t think I would’ve had the motivation and courage if they were here.”
“Need help with your problems, huh?” Nurse Bendy took a card out of her dress pocket and made sure it was the right one:
CROUPIERS' CLINIC
Donovan Jeon
Licensed Therapist
(XXX) XXX-XXXX
Sinville, Statesota
Nurse Bendy smiled wide as she handed the card to Clay, “I believe he can help you out, he’s been helping me out so far! If you want, I can set up an appointment for you right now!”
Clay looked at the gold and black card and glanced up at the nurse, “Are you sure he can help?”
Nurse Bendy made no hesitation into nodding as she walked towards the phone on the counter.
“Then, I’ll do it,” Clay said as he got up from the chair and headed towards the phone.
“You won’t regret it, Clay! I promise!” Nurse Bendy exclaimed, moving to the side.
As Clay dialed the number, his fingers were getting sweatier within each key. Once he hit the final number, he anxiously lifted the handset close to his ear and heard the phone ringing. Clay looked at Nurse Bendy with a worried look and which the latter gave him a smile in return, making him feel a bit better.
One beep…two beeps…three beeps…
“Hello, Croupiers’ Clinic?” A gentle and masculine voice was heard.
“Yes, is this…” Clay glanced at the card again, “Dr. Jeon?”
“Yes, it is, how may I help you?”
“Heh, how much time do you got?”