“Les!”, I said in confusion as we stood outside. “Well… The bar boy refused to give me the vodka. Then I called Tom, the owner.” She really looked proud. “Seriously?” I asked. “Why the hell?”
“Well, I don’t have any vodka in the house.” “Um… I said, a little irritated and also embarrassed by this behavior. “Two vodkas are enough for me,” I said. “Yes, but not me…” she answered, proudly placing the bottle on the table at home.
Fifteen minutes later, I was having tea, she was drinking, I said: “I’m hungry. Shall we cook together?” I was afraid she would be too tipsy to prepare anything and I was starving. Strangely enough, I felt guilty about that, that I was busy with my desire.
At that moment Lars came in. Before he could even greet me, he exploded, pointing at the vodka. “And what’s that bottle doing here, Lois?” He looked angry.
Loes smiled faintly, hung her head a little to his side and said: “Oh… that one? He is from Maaike. She brought vodka.”
“What can we get now?” I said, surprised. “I’m there, aren’t I? You just wanted that bottle from the bar owner yourself.” As if that was embarrassing enough.
She looked at me angrily, I had betrayed her. But I was also angry. I’m not going to let myself be put in front of her drinks card, I thought. “I’m hungry, I’m going to get something to eat,” I said and grabbed my jacket. “Then you can continue… talking. “
Lars was angry, the argument was still in full swing. When I came back with a falafel sandwich it was dark in the house. Lars had showered and said: “Loes is in bed and I’ll be going soon too. I’m tired from doing odd jobs and I’ve been out since 5am.” It wasn’t even 8pm. I wanted to go home, but I was already drunk, so driving wasn’t an option. I watched some TV, set the alarm, and checked out of their guest room at 7 the next morning. I returned home discouraged.
Around 10 o’clock I got a text from Loes: “Did you go to the market or something? I wanted to make you breakfast, but you’re not here.”
“I’m home,” I texted.
“WHAT?” She immediately cried. “What do you mean and why?”
“Do I really have to explain that? You don’t have to explain the red carpet when I come to stay, but it’s no fun sitting straight away in the pub with your friends who drink badly. Then you smuggle vodka home yourself and casually tell your husband it’s my fault.”
She immediately said: “But why did you order vodka in the pub? Maaike, you know I can’t handle alcohol, right?”
“Oh, so it’s my fault? You were drinking in the pub long before I walked in.
You have a drinking problem, you don’t.” He was outside.
Loes remained silent and answered after a long time: “You are right.” We didn’t have much more to say, so I hung up.
Two hours later a bouquet of beautiful, relaxing flowers was delivered. Loes was sorry, the card said. But it was too late, vodka had ruined our years of friendship.
‘Thank you practice nurse: this was the sad advice when I finally officially asked for help’
2024-04-27 05:04:30
#betrayed #bottle #drink #broke #relationship
