Though I was married, I'd realized I was still missing a spark in my life. Something that my husband, Jacob Black, couldn't understand. I loved him, yes, but there was still something missing. I, myself, didn't know what that spark was. I had decided I would talk to Jacob about this many times, but I never got the courage to when I saw how happy he looked every day when he came home after work.
We had only been married for a year and a half and I'd never let him touch me. Our marrige was neither a love marrige, nor an arranged one. It was more on the forced side. A little. Not fully; but somewhat. My father, Charlie had passed away with my mother, Renee, during a car accident. I was twenty-years-old then, and was living in an appartment in Seattle when the event occured. Billy Black, Jacob Black's father and Jacob, himself, had comforted me a lot during my loss. The only people I had in my life other than Charlie and Renee were Jacob and Billy. I considered them my second family.
But when Billy was diagnosed with Cancer, his last wish was for Jacob and I to get married before he'd die. That's how it happened. It wasn't my choice to marry Jacob. It never was. I did love Jacob, but as a friend. Only as a friend. But when Billy looked at us with his saddened eyes, neither of us could say no. I didn't know how Jacob felt about this, nor did he know how I did. But we had agreed. We'd gotten married and just weeks later Billy had passed away.
It was my time to comfort Jacob, then. We'd spent as much as time every day, but instead of living at Billy's house, we'd moved to an appartment in Seattle. Jacob couldn't stand all the memories he'd had there, and neither could I. It felt like being slowly suffocated by nothing but emotions. Depression.
After Billy's death, Jacob counted on me the most, and I couldn't leave him, even if I was unhappy. He was there for me, and I would be there for him. I wouldn't bail. But things began to fall apart. Jacob kept coming home late, and that too, drunk. We'd had fights, but in the end it all resolved.
It was getting out of hand, now. I was starting to get suspicious. But when I decided to talk it out one day, he'd taken me by surprise. Completely unexpected. He'd come home that day, with a smile so big, I thought his lips would fall off. I hadn't seen him this happy since our wedding. He handed me the bundle of roses he had in his hand and said he'd loved me. I couldn't accuse him of having an affair, now. So, I decided to forget about it.
But weeks later, he was back on his normal routine of coming home late, drunk and we'd hardly communicate with each other. Every morning we'd leave for our jobs separately and it started to get depressing. Not Jacob, my husband, but Jacob, my friend was no longer in my life. I felt alone; abandoned.
And that is how I ended up in this bar, in the middle of the night. I thought I'd never be the one to choose the life of going to bars and clubs and what not, but fate had some other plans. I became more like Jacob, but I first tried it to see if he'd react, but he didn't care. Not once. Not at all. It hadn't become my habit, but I'd often drive to a bar, probably at least twice a week, I was sure.
So, I sat here at the bar as a depressed loner that I was, drinking my sorrow's away. It felt like the best reason to ease my pain. The last thing I knew was a struggle to keep my eyes open, but was soon faced by darkness.