D.I.L.L.I.G.A.F. Ch. 04

About 30 minutes later I get a signal from the lady to come to the bathroom. I pay the bill at the register while making my way to the bathroom. Vicky is barely standing. She is leaning against the wall. I pick her up and carry her because she is wiped out and can't walk. She fucking reeks of booze and vomit. I carry her out to the truck and load her in.

She mumbles and slurs "I'm so sorry" over and over.

I leave her window down in case she needs to throw up some more on the way home. She doesn't and we make it home without further incident. I get her in the house and put her on the couch. I round up a trash can from the kitchen. I walk upstairs to get some aspirin. I set a glass of water and a few aspirin on the coffee table. She is snoring by the time I get back. I remove her shoes. I lay her on her side and cover her up with a throw. I decide to get another load of laundry done. I look around for more evidence. I found a pair in the bathroom hamper. Surprise, full of jism. I collect them and put them in a zip lock. I wait until the washer has finished its cycle and move the clothes to the dryer. I walk upstairs and get ready for bed. I step into the bathroom and brush my teeth before turning in. Looking in the mirror I repeat my mantra - D.I.L.L.I.G.A.F.