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“Who the fuck do you think you just met this evening?” I bark, stopping mid-step. “We ran into each other again a few months ago, and I’ve been lucky enough to have another chance to make things right. But I messed it up all over again.”
“You never told her,” he sighs. “Why? Don’t you trust that she would pick you?”
“I was afraid of losing her. I wanted to tell her, but I couldn’t risk losing her again.” I allow my conquered body to fall onto the couch and slump into the side of the upholstered arm.
“Brooks?” he says, sliding toward the edge of his seat.
“Hmm?” My face is hidden in the crook of my arm, but I can hear him shuffle around.
“Vivian was the most polite, pleasant woman I’ve met in a long time. I could tell from the moment she spoke to me that she is forgiving and loving, and also, that she loves you. When she found out my name, she was surprised, but she never treated me any different. Her hurt didn’t lie with my presence; it was in your deceit.”
He stands from the couch, and I look up to meet his eyes. He was right; it wasn’t him being here that really hurt her; it was me that hurt her all over again. It was me not being honest with her, not trusting that she would choose me.
“I know a lot about disappointing the ones you love; it’s all I’ve ever been good at. I don’t want that for you; it’s a lonely existence. You need to figure out how to fix this, and if you think that my not being in the picture is a way to start…” Raymond strokes his grease stained fingers across his chin, letting the dusting of stubble rub the skin of his knuckles, and after a long pause, he finally finishes his speech. “Well, if you think it will help, then I will bow out. If you want me in your life, you can find me. I’ll always be here if you’re ready; if she’s ready. But I won’t pursue you anymore. I’m not letting you choose this time; I’m telling you to go get her.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding, feeling the relief that his words bring me. “Thank you,” is all I can muster.
“If she’s what you really want, then you fight like hell for her, Brooks. My sins are not yours, and don’t you think for one second that that beautiful girl doesn’t know that.”
He pats my knee as he passes by me, causing a smile to form on my face. The expression was a nice reprieve from the constant scowl I had been wearing for the last hour. “Good bye, Brooks.”
“Bye, Ray.”
I hear the door close behind him, and I’m left in solitude once again. This time though, instead of grieving over the woman I loved and lost, I devise a plan to win her back.
Friday Night
Brooks
Her words play over and over again in my mind. She didn’t want to see me, she didn’t want to even look at me. All this time I had worried that it would be too much for her to handle, that she would refuse me, turn me away when she found out. That’s exactly what happened. The thing that has my insides tangled though is that I’m not sure if it would have played out any differently had I told her the truth from the begi
I did the only thing I could think of to try to win her back. I tried to make her see that I was willing to put myself out there for her, and she didn’t want anything to do with me. I hurt her so badly; who I am has hurt her, us, beyond repair.
Her words punctured my heart, and before I let myself bleed out all over the floor in front of her, I left as quickly as I could. As soon as I hit the door, though, my pace slowed, and for the last half hour I’ve been sitting in my car in the bar parking lot with the ignition ru
Picking up my cell, I call the only person I have in my life that would actually meet me at this hour, who would have no interest in lecturing me or fucking me. My list of friends is short, but Lakin is at the top of that list. He has always been there for me when I needed him, whether to listen, to kick my ass, or just get me drunk. Tonight called for the latter.
“Dude, what happened? I thought tonight was the big hoopla for Vivian?”
Niiiiice, not even a hello. Doesn’t that give you a warm fuzzy feeling inside? “Yeah, it didn’t go well; I’m still here, just in the parking lot.”
“You know, if you sit there long enough, people will call the cops and tell them that there is a creepy stalker-like guy in the parking lot waiting to attack women. Man, I would hate to see you on the news.”
I roll my eyes at his attempt to lighten the situation, but his humor does nothing for my mood. “Lakin, I need to let off steam, get drunk, wallow in my fucking misery right now–not joke about what a piece of shit I am. Are you in or out?”
“You know I’m in. Meet me at The Cruise Room in twenty minutes.”
I really wasn’t in the mood for Cruise, but if he was willing to hang out with my sorry ass, I would let him pick the place. The Cruise Room is a high-class martini bar styled in a 1930s art deco décor, even the waitresses wear 1930s attire. Its elegant crimson tapestries have earned the establishment the nickname The Red Room. It’s a great place to enjoy a quiet drink with friends, and socialize—a.k.a. pick up professional women looking for an evening to release the tension of the stressful workday. It is not the place to get trashed and make a fool of yourself as pity swallows you alive, which is the situation I’m aiming for.
“You sure about Red Room tonight?” I ask. “I was thinking tequila, and a possible drunk and disorderly charge, not martinis and cougar prowls.”
“Nice, smartass, you need a distraction. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter what kind. See you in a few.”
When I arrive at the bar inside the Oxford Hotel, Lakin is perched on a cream-colored leather barstool and is leaning on the black marble bar top. The red lighting provides an ambiance of elegance. It has a romantic tone of an era in the past, and stepping through the door is like transporting back to the time of prohibition. Lakin doesn’t notice me as I approach. The bar is packed with men in their high-dollar Armani suits and women in their flashy designer dresses and heels. I feel the ladies’ eyes on me as I pass by them, and a few months ago, I would have obliged their flirtations, but not anymore. I’m no longer interested in the easy one-night-stand fucks. All I want is Vivian.
I slide up next to my brother, taking in the row of liquor bottles lined up behind the bar, analyzing which one would get me to the state of numbness that I desire the fastest. When the bartender steps up to us, providing a slight head nod to ask what we would like to order, I begin to open my mouth to ask for a Joh
“He’ll have a Jack and Coke, please.” He glares at me from the corner of his eye, challenging me to change my order.
“Fine, but if you’re going to order for me like an arrogant asshole, then you can pay for my drinks, too. Just remember, I’m not putting out, though,” I tease.
“Well, I’m glad you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” he says, throwing down his credit card for the bartender.
I huff, and we wait in silence for my drink. I signal the bartender to wait a second while I down the drink, and then ask for another.
Lakin laughs, “You’re a fucking mess, man. I was sure that your stunt tonight would have worked. You must have really screwed it up with her.”
“You’re a fuck-stick, Lakin, you know that?” I lightly punch him in the arm. He shields himself and laughs even harder.