Chapter 196

Philip's POV

I forced my heavy eyelids open, momentarily disoriented about what time it was. The distant sounds of Manhattan traffic filtered through the windows, but my apartment was eerily silent. I reached for the bottle beside me, giving it a half-hearted shake. Empty.

The scattered collection of bottles surrounding me told the silent story of the past few days. Since my divorce from Annie, alcohol had become my most faithful companion. I'd rented an apartment with a layout similar to the home we once shared, but this place held no Annie, no Brian-just me and an army of empty bottles.

"Philip Baker, look at what you've become."

I jerked my head up to see Annie standing in the center of the living room.hands on her hips, a slight frown creasing her forehead. She wore that light blue sweater I always loved,her hair falling loosely around her shoulders.

"Annie?" My voice emerged as a raspy whisper, barely recognizable even to myself. "How did you get in here?"

She shook her head disapprovingly and moved closer, bending down to start gathering the bottles from the floor. "Are you trying to drink yourself to death?"

"I thought you'd be inseparable from Howard by now," I attempted to sound casual, but the bitterness in my words was impossible to disguise.

Annie methodically placed the bottles into a garbage bag, her movements fluid and practiced-mesmerizing to watch. This was so characteristic of her-even when angry, she would always tidy up before speaking her mind.

"You need some sobering-up soup," she announced, straightening up and heading toward the kitchen.

"Wait," I struggled to my feet, swaying as I stood, "don't go."

Annie paused, turning to look at me with a gentleness in her eyes I hadn't seen in ages. "I'mjust going to the kitchen."

"Will you stay?"I summoned the courage to ask.

She didn't answer, simply continuing her path to the kitchen. I stumbled after her, reaching out to grasp her wrist-but my hand passed right through her body.

Annie vanished.

I stood in the middle of the empty kitchen, suddenly realizing everything had been an alcohol-induced hallucination. Annie had never been here.She was now with Howard and that little girl-Lucy-living the life I once had but had destroyed with my own hands.

I collapsed heavily onto the cold kitchen floor, the physical pain in my knees nothing compared to the hollowness in my chest. My hands hung limply at my sides, fingertips trembling. My throat constricted, making it difficult to breathe. Tears I couldn't control spilled from my eyes, hot liquid coursing down my cheeks, gathering at my chin before dropping onto my wrinkled shirt.

"Annie, please, don't leave me..." My voice came out broken, as if from a great distance. I clutched at my hair, pressing my forehead against the cool cabinet door. I knew she wasn't here, knew this was all just the alcohol playing cruel tricks on my mind. yet 1 called her namelike a drowning man grasping at his final straw. The desperation felt both ridiculous and tragic, but I couldn't stop myself.

"Annie!"

I don't know how much time passed before I heard the doorbell,followed by the sound of a key turning in the lock. I didn't have the strength to get up,so I remained slumped against the kitchen cabinets, lost in my personal hell.

"Annie, just one more chance..." I mumbled to myself.

"Annie Baker,since you've already left my son, stay away from him!" My mother Betty's sharp voice carried from the entryway. "Why are you sneaking into my son's home? Isn't being with Howard enough? Do you still want to lead my son around by the nose?"

I heard the sound of the door locking. Betty must have thought Annie was actually here.

"Mom," I called out weakly, "there's nobody else here."

Rapid footsteps approached from the hallway. Betty appeared in the kitchen doorway, her meticulously styled hair and impeccable makeup creating a stark contrast with the chaotic environment. When she saw my disheveled state, shock flashed across her face.

"Philip? Why are you sitting on the floor?" She glanced around the kitchen."Where's Annie? I just heard you calling her name."

"I told you, there's nobody else here." I shook my head, attempting to stand but finding my legs uncooperative. Betty rushed forward to support me.

"Then what did I just hear? You were clearly talking to Annie."

"I was just talking to myself." I allowed her to help me back to the living room sofa.

Betty's gaze swept over the bottles littering the floor and the general disarray of the apartment, her expression shifting from shock to anger."Look what you've done to yourself! All because of that woman!"

"This isn't Annie's fault," I said quietly. "I'm the one who wronged her."

Betty sat beside me, stroking my hair as she used to when I was a child."Philip, is Annie really worth all this? She's already with Howard, and here you are, heartbroken over her."

I looked up at my mother, tears blurring my vision. "I don't know, Mom. I just know I can't control myself."

Betty's expression hardened with resolve. She stood up and pulled out her phone. "This won't do."

"What are you doing?" I asked, though I already suspected the answer.

Betty didn't respond. Instead, she dialed a number. I noticed she was using her backup phone-Annie had probably blocked her primary number.

"Oh, Annie, finally got through." Betty's voice suddenly turned cold. "Yes,it's me, Betty. No, I'm not interested in chatting. I'll send you an address,and you need to come immediately."

Annie, will you come? No, you must hate me completely. I'll never speak

to you again. "Why?" Betty repeated, her tone growing sharper. "Because my son is drinking himself into oblivion, and it's all because of you! You must come take care of him!"

"Mom!" I tried to stop her, but it was too late.

Betty ended the call and turned to me. "She wvill come."

I sank back into the sofa and closed my eyes. This wasn't what I wanted.I didn't want to see Annie this way. I didn't want her to visit out of pity or obligation. But I did want to see her-even if for the last time.

"I'm going to run you a bath," Betty's voice interrupted my thoughts. "You need to clean yourself up before Annie arrives."

I didn't answer, remaining slumped on the sofa,listening to my mother bustling around in the bathroom. I knew Annie probably wouldn't come,and if she did, it would only make things worse. Yet deep inside, a voice hoped,yearned to see her again, if only for a moment.

I couldn't control my longing for her, just as I couldn't control alcohol's grip on me. I had lost everything-my marriage, my son, and now possibly my dignity. Butif I could see Annie one more time, I'd pay any price.

Because without her, my life was like these empty bottles-once filled with promise, now just hollow shells.