Sleeping With The CEO-Chapter 294: Fall Apart

If Derek were ever asked to list things that he appreciated about his mother.Then in that list he would be certain to include her ability to keep focused on a goal. Never losing sight of it. Even when things were going wrong with a quickness.

That would have left even the most level-headed of people clutching at straws. A prime example of that was happening right that very moment. Derek, his eyes half opened, was watching his mother move around the penthouse. "You are in no state to go to work today,"

"I will go into headquarters to cause a bit of a stir, masking your absence with my presence. I will simply tell everyone that you are working from home today and do not wish to be bothered. Take this time to gather yourself. This cannot happen again Derek," He nodded on instinct, and instantly regretted it.

His brain felt as though it had moved to the front of his skull with the action. And when he straightened, it settled back in, nearly splitting his head in two as a result. As his mother continued to map a way forward, Derek buried his head in his hands, and suppressed a groan. Not everything from the day before was very clear. But he was pretty sure that he had actually cried. His mother holding him through it. How embarrassing.

But the embarrassment was something that Derek could push back. He had something that required his urgent attention, and that something was the hangover that he was currently battling. His mother trying to cram information into his head was certainly not helping matters.

But to raise his head and tell her to stop, would have taken too much effort. So Derek just continued to sit as he was.

His mother pacing in front of him, dressed from head to toe in new clothes that she’d had delivered directly to his doorstep. "Showing up at Haven Group in the evening gown I wore yesterday would raise a lot of questions," She’d said.

Which was a good justification, but it did not excuse the ten other outfits that his mother had bought as well. But that was not Derek’s problem. His problem was that his mother was still talking and his head felt as though he were being hit with a baseball bat, with each breath he took.

He really needed his mother gone so that he could deal with it.

"Derek, I will not be covering for you again. Pull yourself together. I do not know what it is that you are going through,"Her tone wavered at that. Had Derek been in less pain, he would have been able to focus more on it. But since his head still felt as though it was about to explode.

He just let the whole thing slide. His mother’s voice could waver all it wanted. Just as long as it did that while she was far away from him. "Yes, mother, I understand. I will deal with my issues right away and get myself under control," Derek found himself saying. His voice rough from disuse, and all of the alcohol that he had consumed.

The words seemed to settle his mother and she stopped pacing. "Good, that’s good Derek," She said. Gentle fingers moved through his hair briefly and then his mother was gone, the door clicking shut behind her. Without her there to nag him, Derek let out a sigh of relief, his tense posture relaxing somewhat. Lifting his head, he looked around, his eyes halfway open.

Why did everything have to be so bright? Getting to his feet, Derek decided to make good on his promise to his mother. He had told her that he would handle the whole thing. And he was going to, only he’d never had any intention of actually sobering up all the way. As expected, drinking had not solved his problems at all.

But it had made them hazy at the edges. Making it easier for Derek to think about Emily, to feel his pain without trying to be strong.

He needed that.

Derek was so sick and tired of being strong all the time.

And so instead of reaching for a glass of water or trying to get some food into himself. Derek went right back to his drinks. There was still some whiskey left over from the night before. After debating with himself for a few seconds, Derek took the whiskey, and then a bottle of vodka as well. If he felt like the whiskey was being too slow to act.He would add the vodka to the mix and see how things went.

For a few seconds Derek hesitated, holding the two bottles of alcohol against his chest. Drinking after the binge that he’d just had was a bad idea. It would not help him solve anything. In fact, it was likely to leave him feeling even worse, and his problems would still be there waiting for him. But still, Derek reasoned with himself. It was not as though if he remained sober, all of the issues that he had would be solved. They would still be there. And he would still have no idea what to do to get out of them.

He had promised his mother that he would get himself under control and handle his issues. He still intended to keep that promise, but there was a loophole. He had promised, but he had not given a definite time frame. He could still get drunk, sober up the next day.

Pull himself together and his mother would never know.

Proud of his own logic, Derek opened up his bottle of whiskey, and took his first gulp, his face scrunching up as he swallowed. Then he breathed a sigh of relief.

He just needed liquid courage to tide him over for a little while. Then he would be all right.

He would be able to accept everything and move on. A few hours later, Derek was once again blackout drunk, and his promise to himself to sober up quickly was long forgotten. When one bottle of alcohol finished, he quickly followed it up with another.

Doing his best to remain in a state where he knew that he was hurting. But was too drunk to focus on the pain.

Depressive states were very easy to slip into, but they were difficult to get out of, and Derek had all but thrown himself into his. Curtains closed, lights dim.

He steadily went through his drinks cabinet. Barely aware of the fact that his day of drinking had turned into two days, then three, then four...

He just focused on drinking at a pace that would have worried even seasoned alcoholics. But he did not care. He did not care about himself, did not care about his promise to his mother, did not care about Haven Group or what was going on at it.

And that was how he was able to just stay secluded, letting hours turn into days, caught in a vortex of alcohol and crying. A sad state to be for a man who had often prided himself in his ability to remain calm no matter the situation.

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