“Never,” I smile.
“You kinda look like crap, I’m not gonna lie,” Daphne says, raising her eyebrows.
“Wow, thanks,” I say sarcastically.
“You’re not sleeping, are you?”
“Not really, thank God for coffee.” I sigh, taking a sip of my latte.
“Talk to me, how are you doing with everything that’s happened?”
“You mean with Kate?” Daphne nods as she blows on her latte. “There’s not much else to tell, you already know everything.”
“Sure, but, you seem to be at a standstill, Evan. I hate that for you.”
I don’t really know how to respond. She’s right. I’m at a complete standstill. Those people who are always posting “fml” on their Facebook statuses — I usually laugh at those people, thinking they’re idiots for feeling like they have such difficult lives. But, today, I feel their pain. Fuck.My.Life.
Daphne doesn’t accept my silence. “Talk to me. Maybe I can help,” she presses.
Pushing the sarcastic Evan down, I remind myself that my sweet friend only wants to support me. She only wants me to have the kind of happiness that she has. But, she’s deserving of that happiness. I’m not. I’m just a douche who dumped my girlfriend because I’m not over the girl who cheated on me. Nice.
“There’s really nothing to say. I screwed up with Chelsea. She’s gone and all I can think about is Kate. It sucks,” I say, lightly pounding my fist onto the table. “I don’t want to think about her, but I do. All the time.”
“Maybe there’s a reason you’re still thinking about her. After everything that’s happened with you two, she’s still taking over your thoughts.”
“She’s not taking over. Stop being dramatic, Daph.” I smile, trying to get her to back off a little bit. It never works with Daphne. She pushes me and deep down I really do love her for it. She’s the only person in my life who fights for my happiness more than I do.
“Evan, you’re still in love with her,” she says softly, touching me gently on the knee, urging me to look her in the eye. It works.
“I know that. And I hate her for it.” I start to spin my paper coffee cup, looking away from Daphne and staring at the small table in front of me.
“You don’t hate her. You’re just hurt. There’s a difference.”
“If you say so.”
“Tell me again about Patrick’s wedding, when you first saw her again. Maybe if you talk about it, you can figure out what you want.”
“She said she never cheated on me and that I should know that,” I say, remembering the sincerity in Kate’s voice, feeling myself getting caught up in her all over again. “But, when we were together, she admitted it was her pattern. She’s a cheater, always has been. How could it have been a misunderstanding? It was all there, right in front of my face.”
“Things aren’t always as they seem,” she says matter-of-factly.
“No, I think they are. It was stupid of me to think that I was any different to her than any other guy that came before me.” My bitter words make my heart ache.
“Maybe you should believe her. Take a leap of faith that maybe you were the one for her. Maybe she’s telling you the truth,” she suggests.
“What if she’s not the one for me, Daph?” Just saying those words fills me with anguish. My lungs tighten within my chest. “What if she’s just the one who broke my heart, split it to bits and let me walk away?” I ask, raising my voice and instantly regretting it as Daphne flinches slightly in her chair.
“Evan, obviously I don’t have all the answers for you. I just want you to be happy.”
“That might not be in the cards, my friend.”
“You don’t honestly believe that, do you?”
“I don’t know what to believe anymore. Seeing her at Patrick’s wedding was surreal. All these emotions came bubbling to the surface. Chelsea saw right through me, we broke up and then I slept with Kate. I walked away from her, too, and I haven’t talked to either of them since. I really am a dick, aren’t I?”
“Well, I’m not excusing what happened with Chelsea. She’s a nice girl and really did deserve better. She saw with her own eyes that you’re not over Kate. She had to walk away, and I’m proud of her for doing it.” As she finishes her sentence, she still looks like she has so much more to say.
“And?”
“When it comes to Kate, you have a lot of pent-up anger over how things ended. That’s normal.”
“The strange thing is that there’s this voice inside my head screaming for me to forgive her. To just let the past be the past. No questions asked.”
“And what would be so wrong with that?”
“She destroyed me, Daphne. And if she did cheat on me, she’ll do it again. I can’t go through that again. Ever.”
“But, you still love her. It’s so obvious.”
“I never stopped loving that girl. I can’t get her out of here,” I say, tapping my head.
Daphne smiles and leans forward. “Or out of here,” she says, lightly tapping my chest, right over my heart. I concede with a nod.
“Here’s the thing, though,” Daphne continues, “over a year ago we met in this exact spot to talk about the mess I’d made of my life. Do you remember that?”
“Are you talking about my makeshift intervention?” I chuckle, remembering the day I forced Daphne to get out of bed after her breakup with Tanner. They’d broken up because she kept holding on to her feelings for another guy, but I knew Tanner was the guy she wanted. I sat her down and talked some sense into her. Things have changed so much since that day.
“Of course,” she smiles, “you brought me out of my fog. You helped me wake up, to realize I was clinging to the past and making it impossible to move on with Tanner.”
“So, are you saying I’m clinging to my past? That it’s time to move on?” My heart is racing. “You’re confusing the hell out of me.”
“No, no, no,” she says, shaking her head, “I’m saying that you changed my life, Evan. You changed it for the better. You brought me back to Tanner. If not for you, I seriously have no idea what would’ve happened.” She shakes her head, her eyes moistening.
“What are you saying, Daph?”
“Look, you know I’m not a fan of Kate, never have been. The idea of her cheating on you hit way too close to home for me. It reminded me too much of Mayson and what he put me through. I didn’t want that for you.”
“I know,” I nod, looking at the floor.
“But, the thing is, that’s my baggage, not yours. She’s not Mayson. She’s Kate, your Kate. And you have to follow your gut when it comes to her.”
“I don’t know what my gut’s telling me. I’m at a loss.” I shrug my shoulders.
“If there’s even the slightest possibility that she’s telling you the truth, that she never cheated, then you have to listen.”
“I don’t know if I can. Being with her again was beyond amazing. Walking away from her was almost impossible to do. And now, I’m afraid I’ll get wrapped up in her and believe what I want to believe just so we can be together again.”
“You’re smarter than that.” She shakes her head. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. And honestly, I’m not sure you’re giving her enough credit. Don’t you think it’s possible that she stopped her pattern? That she loved you enough to stay faithful?”
“I don’t know,” I say, shaking my head, feeling my eyes burning.
“I know the story, Evan. You already told me what happened. I can’t help thinking that her ex pulled a number on you. That maybe you didn’t stick around long enough to get the full story, Kate’s side of the story.”
“I was too pissed to listen.” I mutter the words, my eyes scanning the coffee shop, avoiding the eyes of my friend.
“Maybe it’s time to listen to her — to everything she has to say, no matter how much it might hurt. You deserve to know everything before you make a decision.”
“But, if she didn’t
cheat on me, then I don’t deserve her,” I say quietly, staring at my cup.
“What?” Daphne raises an eyebrow.
“If she never cheated on me, then this is all my fault. I walked away from the love of my freaking life because I never trusted her, because I used her past against her. Like an asshole.”
“You got wrapped up in all of it, Evan. You’re not an asshole.”
“What if it’s too late, Daph?” My eyes are starting to water as I think about never having another chance with Kate. The thought of never seeing her again makes my pulse quicken.
“What if it’s not?” Daphne asks, her eyes soft and reassuring.
“She did give me this,” I say, reaching into my wallet and pulling out the flier that I can’t stop looking at several times a day. Handing it to Daphne, I study her reaction as she reads the small piece of paper.
“She’s having an art show?” Her voice perks up.
“Yeah, for her photography. She asked me to come and I said I’d be there. But, that was before we slept together, and I left her . . . again. She might want me to stay away, so I’m not sure what to do.”
“What do you want to do?” Daphne asks, handing the flier back to me. I stare at the simple piece of paper, gliding my fingers over her name.
“Honestly, I’ve been looking at this constantly. I can’t get it out of my mind. I’m so proud of her; it’s ridiculous. She’s doing it, she’s doing what I always pushed her to do — she’s chasing her dream! She’s putting herself out there, and I really want to see what she’s accomplished.”
“Well, there’s your answer. You need to go.”
Chapter 26
Kate
December 14, 2012
Another Friday night at Molly’s. Another night fighting off advances from drunken frat boys. Another night of serving drink after drink after drink. The only thing that’s different about tonight is my nerves. My art show is in less than 24 hours and my nerve endings are blazing inside my skin. I’m terrified, excited and a little overwhelmed to be showing my piece.
I gave out a total of five fliers for the exhibition. Vince, Bree, Jason, my parents (who I doubt even noticed it in their mailbox) and Evan. Although, if I had known how that night of Patrick’s wedding would end, I wouldn’t have bothered. He left me. Again. My brain has been useless ever since. Bree keeps begging me to talk to her about it, but I just can’t. I feel like such a fool for letting him in again, for thinking that things could be different between us. I should’ve known he’d just walk away from me. I’ve never been good enough for him.
Jason, who’s sitting at the end of the bar, laptop and beer in tow, has been one of my biggest cheerleaders. Being a novelist, an independent one at that, he gets what it’s like to put yourself out there through your art. He understands how important this show is to me. Every time he walks through the door of Molly’s, I think to myself, why can’t I just love this man? This man with the crazy t-shirts and hipster glasses. This man who’s funny and supportive and artistic? But, I can’t. And he’s okay with that. Thank God. I’m not sure what I’d do without him. Learning to be friends with a man has been interesting. But, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
“I’m really enjoying your latest t-shirt.” I nod to him and the Super Grover t-shirt underneath his navy and white-striped button down.
“It’s one of my favorites, so you’d better not be making fun of me,” he warns playfully. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Jason, it’s not to mess with him and his crazy shirts. I’ve also learned that each one of those t-shirts has a story, another insight into who he is. But, I still like to give him crap. That’s just me.
“Not making fun of you at all,” I reassure him with a smile, sliding another draft beer his way.
“So, tell me,” Jason says before taking a sip of his fresh beer, “are you getting anxious about tomorrow?”
“No,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Right,” he says, suspiciously. He’s learning plenty about me, too. He knows my defense mechanisms and that I’m softer than I seem. He’s a patient and kind person and I love that he accepts me for who I am.
“Okay, fine, I’m a little nervous,” I concede.
“That’s totally normal,” he says, opening his laptop.
“Do you get nervous each time you publish a book?” I ask.
“Absolutely,” he says without a thought.
“How is your latest coming along?” I say, pretending to peek at the screen. Jason hates when anyone looks at his works in progress. It’s one of the few quirks he has in his otherwise normal personality. He pulls the laptop out of my view and smiles.
“It’s fine, but I’ve hit another roadblock with my dumbass main character,” he huffs.
“You make it sound like he has a mind of his own,” I scoff.
“Sometimes he does, believe it or not. I don’t always tell my characters what to do; sometimes it’s the other way around.”
My gut instinct is to make fun of him for saying that, but then I remember sitting on the floor of my bedroom, piecing together all of my photos for the exhibition. There were times that afternoon when I felt like I was on autopilot, like my hands were creating all on their own. I get it.
“Well, I hope he pulls his head out of his ass so you can keep writing.” I smile, taking his empty glass away.
“Thanks.” He nods before looking behind me with a curious look in his eyes.
“Well, if you aren’t a sight for sore eyes,” I hear a familiar voice calling from the other end of the bar. The hair on my arms stand up, as goosebumps grow on my skin. He can’t be here. Not now. Not today. I turn to glare at the person I loathe the most in the world. Shawn.
He walks over to the bar, looking smug and satisfied with himself. The last two years haven’t been kind to him. He looks like he’s aged about six or seven. His hair is thinning near his hairline and he has crows’ feet starting near his eyes. He looks tired and worn and possibly tipsy.
“What are you doing here?” I glower, wanting to tear him apart limb from limb.
“I was in the area and thought to myself, there’s no way that Kate is actually still working at this dump. But, my curiosity got the best of me. And here you are.”
“Good to see you’re still the asshole I remember,” I say, looking at Jason out of the corner of my eye. His laptop is closed and he’s listening to everything being said. It feels good to have someone in my corner. I’m not sure where this is going to lead.
“Whatever, I’ll take a Heineken.”
“Didn’t you see the sign above the bar?”
“What?” he snips. I roll my eyes, pointing towards the board.
“Molly’s reserves the right to refuse service to anyone at any time,” I read from the chalkboard sign Vince installed after my last interaction with Shawn. How ironic.
“Seriously?” he asks bitterly, rolling his little weasel eyes. How did I ever date this loser?
“Yep, consider yourself refused. You know where the door is,” I snap, walking down to Jason. His brow is furrowed. He’s worried.
“You okay?” he asks, staring Shawn down with angry eyes. It’s kind of funny to see the normally laidback Jason go into full defense mode over me. I feel like he’s having a ‘big brother’ moment.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I sigh, gripping the bar tightly. “He’s just a douchebag who keeps popping into my life at the worst times. I have enough on my mind right now without seeing him again.”
“Well, he hasn’t left yet, just so ya know. He’s lurking by the end of the bar,” Jason replies. I turn to see Shawn standing at the end of the bar, tapping his fingers on the bar, looking pissed. I walk towards him, with my hands on my hips.
“You need to go, Shawn,” I say matter-of-factly, staring him down.
“Hey, you said you could refuse service, not that I couldn’t be here.” His face is so smug. I don’t know how I ever dated this man. He is the epitome of the word loser. I walk a
round the bar until I’m face to face with him. His breath smells like garlic, which makes my stomach turn. I’ve had enough.
“Get out,” I raise my voice.
“Listen, I have every right to be here, I’m not going anywhere.” Shawn crosses his arms in front of his chest, raising an eyebrow. He’s so goddamn smug.
“I’ll get Vince, I mean it,” I threaten.
“That dumbass doesn’t scare me. And neither do you,” Shawn says, taking another step towards me, his beady eyes glowering at me.
“You seem to get off on making others miserable,” I say, my eyes narrowing.
“No, just you. Can’t get myself to stay away.” The corner of his mouth turns up in a lopsided smirk.
“Find a way,” I say, seething. My heart is starting to pound furiously in my chest.
Shawn looks up at the ceiling in a dramatic way, “No, I don’t think I want to.”
“Listen, Shit-for-brains, you ruined my life! I never want to look at your miserable face ever again. Get the hell out of this bar. Now!” Shawn laughs, and the piercing sound of his laughter makes me boil over with rage.
I slap him across the face. Hard. A stinging sensation shoots through my palm and fingertips. He looks at me, shocked, like he didn’t think I had it in me. I guess I’m full of surprises.
“You fucking bitch!” Shawn yells, putting a hand to his cheek before moving towards me like he’s going to hit me back.
“Hey, hey!” I hear Jason yell, jumping in between us. Vince is not far behind.
“You have exactly three seconds to get the hell out of my bar before I call the cops,” Vince yells, grabbing Shawn’s arm. He’s fuming and narrows his eyes at Shawn. “You walk through those doors again, and I will personally beat your ass down. Kate’s a member of my family, and you don’t mess with my family!”
“Whatever, I’m outta here,” Shawn says, prying Vince’s hand off of his arm, knocking him with his shoulder as he walks away. “Have a nice life.”
My pulse is still racing out of control as Vince leads me to a barstool.
Champagne Toast Page 19