“Just needed some company, I guess.” My gaze flickers in the mirror over to the women sitting in the booth near the door. The pretty one glances up at me and blushes again.
“Yeah? Well, happy to provide it. How are you and Sam, by the way? Y’all still hanging out?”
“Nah.”
“Why not? Weren’t you two like best friends back in the day?”
“Something like that.”
“You know, I always did think you two were going to get together. You were too nerdy in high school, but now…” He looks me over and nods approvingly. “Now you’ve got that bad boy thing going for you. Chicks love that.”
“Anyways,” he continues when I don’t respond. “You were hitting that last time I saw you, weren’t you? I saw how you two were dancing. What happened?”
“She was married.”
“Oh shit. You didn’t know that? I thought you knew. Everyone knows that. Too small of a town not to know.”
“I guess not small enough.”
“Well, I know Tim. He’s—“
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Alright. I’m just saying that the two of them aren’t—“
“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” My tone stops Brian short. He nods and takes a sip of his drink.
“Okay,” he says after a moment. “Okay. My bad. Look, we’ll get another drink and then go talk to those girls, okay? Jimmy!” he calls to the bartender. “Another round. And send some drinks over to those beautiful women at the front booth.”
“Come on,” he says, grabbing my arm and pulling me up from my stool. “We’ve got some ladies to attend to.”
27.
Sam
I’m exhausted by the time my shift ends at eleven but the last thing I want to do is go home. Not when I know he’s there. I drag my feet through the last of my cleanup duties, hoping against hope that by the time I finish it’ll somehow magically be tomorrow morning and I can just start work all over again.
“Come on, Sam,” Sarah says, coming over to where I’m wiping down a booth table and patting my rump. “Pick it up. I want to go home sometime tonight, girl. Why are you going so slow?”
“Why do you think?” I grumble, sweeping some crumbs off the table into my palm. In the kitchen I can hear our new part-time help hanging up the last of the pots and pans to dry. He’s probably not worried about going home. At sixteen, he doesn’t know what’s in store for him yet.
“I don’t get it,” Sarah says, dropping into the booth. She nods at the seat across from her and I slide into it. “Why don’t you just leave?”
“I’ve already told you a thousand times. I can’t.”
“Yeah, that’s what you say. But what I hear is that you won’t.”
“You don’t understand.”
“What is there to understand? Your drunken husband has been back for three weeks and has been making your life hell, as he always does when he’s in town; your boyfriend turned out to be someone different than he said he was; and you spend all day moping around, dreaming of picking up and leaving. So why don’t you just leave?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“And why not?”
“It’s just…”
“Yeah?”
“Well, for one, I don’t have anywhere to go. No money, no savings, no skills, nothing. And then Tim said that if I leave, he’s going to tell everyone that I—“
“Slept with another man because your husband is a prick? What’s wrong with that? And besides, who the fuck cares? Half this town is sleeping with someone they aren’t married to. If someone cares because you wanted happiness, they can go fuck themselves!”
“I know, I know. It’s just…” I trail off as my voice starts to waver.
“I know, sweetie,” she whispers, reaching across the table and stroking my hand. “I know. It’s hard. And you’ve been hurt. But there’s happiness for you, too. You just have to be brave enough to pick yourself up and keep going until you find it.”
“What if I never do?” The tears are streaming down my face now. I can’t help it. It’s a cry I’ve been needing for a long time. I’ve just been so unhappy.
“Don’t be such a goofball,” Sarah laugh as she reaches across the table and wipes away a tear. “Of course you’ll find happiness. You’ll find somebody. I promise. But first you have to learn how to be happy by yourself. And you’ll never do that as long as you allow Tim to rule your life. He hasn’t hit you again, has he?”
“No. Not yet. He’s usually passed out drunk by the time I get home. He’s only gotten really angry once and that was the night when…”
“I know, baby, I know,” Sarah coos.
I sigh and wipe my eyes, my mascara leaving behind a smudge on the back of my hand.
“Well, I think you need to leave, baby. You know you are always welcome to come stay with Mike and me. For as long as you need. We would love to have you.”
“I can’t do that. You two are about to get married. I don’t want to impede.”
“Impede? Please, you would never impede. You’d be like our daughter.”
“Except I’m older than you.”
“But certainly not wiser.”
Despite myself, I smile.
“Nope. Not wise at all.” I draw in a deep breath. “Tell me, what would you do?”
“Honestly?”
“Yeah.”
“Honestly, I’d call Sean up.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“After what happened? He lied to me, Sarah.”
“So what? You lied to him, too.”
“Exactly! If you could have seen the hurt on his face, you’d know there’s no going back. He hates me now. And how am I supposed to forgive him? He seduced me knowing full well who I was and while pretending to be someone he wasn’t. He used me because he wanted to get back at me.”
“Even if that were true, it was only at first. Didn’t he say that he was scared because he thought that if you knew who he was you wouldn’t want him?”
“Yeah, but—“
“See? That sounds like a pretty good reason to me.”
“But why didn’t he ever tell me the truth? I mean, I understand worrying about it at first, but why wait? He had plenty of opportunities.”
“Why didn’t you tell him you were married?”
“I didn’t know how. I meant to. But there was just never a good time.”
Sarah raises an eyebrow.
“Fine. Fair point,” I concede. “But how am I supposed to go back now? Is it even a good idea? I mean, I’ve known Sean for a long time. I know everything about him. I remember when he was just a nerdy kid in love with me. Luke is someone completely different in my mind. He’s…”
“Sexy?” Sarah offers.
“Yeah. But also more. He was strong and confident and cared about me. He was nice and appreciated what I had to say. He didn’t care who I was, who I’d been, where I’d come from. He liked me for me.”
“Maybe it was because he did know where you had come from.”
“Maybe…”
“Look, I get it. It’s a shitty thing to have happen to anyone. But I gotta tell you: I’ve never seen you so happy, girl. And certainly not in the last few years. You were positively glowing, what little I saw of you. From my perspective, it looked like something real. And I don’t have to tell you how hard that is to find nowadays. You shouldn’t just throw that away. Of course, don’t lose your self-respect and let him off the hook, but understand that he probably had just as much trouble making the hard choices as you did. From the way he looked at you, he was the same old Sean, still as ever in love with the Sam Atley.”
“So you’re saying I should call him? What was all that about learning to love myself first?”
“I meant that too. You’ll learn to do that when you finally get the balls to leave Tim. You’re only as unhappy as you allow yourself to be.” Sarah pats my hand as she slides to t
he edge of the booth and rises. “Come on. Let’s get finished up, send the new kid home, and go grab a drink. You’re staying with me tonight.”
28.
Sean
My eyes are starting to water these women are so boring. I’m so drunk I can barely see straight by now, though that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped pounding the whiskey. Brian is in the middle of another story, his arms gesticulating wildly as the ugliest girl of the three hangs onto his arm. The pretty one—who turned out to be a lot less pretty the closer I got—is leaning into me. She hasn’t stopped staring up at me since we sat down.
“Isn’t that right, Sean?” Brian says. Everyone turns to look at me. I haven’t been paying a lick of attention and have no idea what he’s talking about.
“Damn straight,” I say with a forced smile, and finish off my drink. I try to wave to the bartender but he’s ignoring me now, pretending not to see me. Probably easier than the trouble he knows he’s going to get if he tries to turn me down. I can’t blame the guy. I’m a lot bigger than he is. I wouldn’t want to tangle with me right now either.
The girls laugh and Brian resumes his story. All I want is to go home. I need sleep and could care less about talking to these women. There will always be more women.
The word home makes me laugh to myself. Home. As if that piece of shit house where I grew up could ever be home to me. As soon as I’ve sold off the last of my father’s property and paid off all of his outstanding debts, and as soon as I’ve figured out where to go—maybe back up to Alaska?—I’m getting the hell out of here. And this time, come hell or high water, I’m not coming back.
The bar door opens beside us and a cool breeze sweeps through the place. Autumn, the only truly perfect time of year in Texas, is just about here. The girl leaning on me shivers and snuggles closer. Her hand, which started on my knee, is caressing my thigh now. Another hour and she’ll be trying to put her hand down my pants.
Two women enter the bar, though I’m so drunk I can’t really focus on anything at this point. The alcohol has done its job. I’m too drunk to think about a thing. At least the anger and the pain are gone, too. What the fuck did I ever come back here for anyways?
When my eyes finally do manage to focus, I see her sitting at the bar. At first I think I’m just too drunk and seeing things. Obviously my mind is still thinking about that night. As much as I want to forget, I can’t. I blink a few times, trying to dispel the image. It’s only after I see her friend from the diner beside her that I realize that what I’m seeing is not a mirage. She’s really here.
A moment passes and I realize there is silence at the table. Everyone is looking at me expectantly. Brian must have asked me a question.
“What’s that?” I slur, forcing myself to look away from Sam. She’s wearing her diner clothes. She must have just come from work.
“I told the girls about your father’s estate. How much is it worth? $150 million?”
“Something like that.”
“Oh wow,” one of Brian’s girls murmurs.
“Right? The best part is that he’s donating over half of it to the town. They’re going to build a new hospital and a new school with it. You’re donating some of the lands out west too, aren’t you?”
“Uh-huh.”
“To a college or something,” Brian says solemnly. “For research.” He goes on talking and I know it’s safe to zone out again. The girl beside me must have been really turned on by all the talk of money because her hand slides further up my thigh.
What is Sam doing here? I know she’s not really one to drink. Maybe it’s just the alcohol, but I’m a little jealous at the thought of her in a place where other men can look at her.
She’s not yours remember? She’s married. She has a husband. The husband she forgot to tell you about.
The thought sends the anger burbling back up, the sting as fresh as if it had just happened. I can picture it all so clearly. The moon over the trees; Sam’s hands clasping at my shirt; her husband standing with a self-satisfied grin at the bottom of the porch steps, the smell of whiskey on the wind; the moment when I realized what was happening and suddenly it didn’t matter anymore that I’d given her a fake name. What she’d done was unforgiveable…
I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t even realize Sam is staring back at me. Despite the anger, a smile flickers across my face. I’m struck by how empty her eyes seem. Before I know it, I’m up and stumbling over to her. I can’t stop myself. Her friend sees me coming and excuses herself, goes to one end of the bar and starts fiddling with the jukebox. I trip over myself on my way over and drop into the stool beside her.
“Hi,” I slur.
“Hi,” she replies meekly. She’s watching me warily, like any minute she expects me to explode. “How are you, Sean?” She emphasizes my name, a reminder of all that’s happened. Being this close to her, my body aches to touch hers. She’s as beautiful as ever.
“Fine,” I say, my words thick. “You?”
“Good,” she says quietly. She takes a sip of her drink. I contemplate ordering my own but decide against it. “What are you doing here? Is that your new girlfriend?”
“No. Brian and I just came out for a drink. What are you doing here?”
“Sarah and I came out for a drink.”
“Does your husband know?” This comes out more aggressively than I intend and Sam winces as if I’ve hit her.
“Look,” she says, lowering her eyes. “It’s not like that. Tim isn’t—“
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Again, this is said harsher than I mean it to be.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she shoots back, her tone matching mine.
Silence. We’re both sitting there looking at one another and there’s not a thing I can think of to say. There’s so much I should say, so much I feel, but I feel like I’m looking at Sam—my Sam—from a thousand yards away. Between us is a chasm not even God could make the leap across.
A hand touches my shoulder and I flinch. For a moment, I welcome the intrusion, though when I turn and see the once-pretty woman from the table that had been stroking my thigh, my heart sinks.
“Hi, Sean,” she giggles. She eyes Sam venomously. “Hello,” she says curtly. She’s clearly outclassed and for this reason she obviously can’t help but pretend otherwise.
“Hi,” Sam says. I’ve got to hand it to her. I can see the flare of anger in her eyes but she holds it together. She sips her drink and makes to turn back to the bar.
“Sam,” I say, reaching out to touch her hand. The woman standing next to me grabs my hand before I can and forcibly turns me towards her.
“Sean, baby,” she coos. “Brian told me you have a motorcycle. I would love to have you take me for a ride.”
“I bet you would,” I hear Sam mumble. She downs the rest of her drink and pushes her stool back from the counter.
“Sam,” I say again, but she’s already brushed past me and is halfway to the door. I make to stand but the woman whose name I can’t for the life of me remember steps in my way and drapes her arms over my shoulders.
“Aww, don’t worry about her,” she giggles. She leans close and I feel her hot, boozy breath on my face. “You just come home with me. I’ll take care of you better than she ever could.”
Before I can stop her, the woman presses her mouth to mine. I make to push her away but she holds me tight and forces her tongue into my mouth. The taste on her tongue is disgusting, like cigarettes and week-old beer, so bad that it almost makes me gag. Sam glances over her shoulder just as this happens. Her eyes are glistening with tears. When she sees the woman kissing me, she shakes her head slowly and, a tear rolling down her cheek, disappears out the door.
“Sam,” I call weakly, finally breaking away from the woman who is kissing me more desperately than ever. I push her away and make to stand, but my feet get tangled under the stool and I fall forward. I hit the ground hard and the air whooshes from my lungs.
“Sam…”
> If only I’d had one less drink.
29.
Sam
I’ve got the key in the ignition and am about to toss my truck into reverse when I remember I’ve left Sarah inside. I pull out my phone and text her where I am. All I want to do is drive. I don’t care where. I just need to go. I just want to leave this town and never come back.
A moment later, when Sarah appears, I’ve made up my mind. She pulls open the truck door and climbs in.
“I’ve decided,” I say before she can utter a word. I can tell by the look on her face that she saw what happened. Now that I think about it, it’s probably the reason she went to the jukebox in the first place. She had spotted Sean.
“Decided what?” she asks.
“I’m leaving.”
“Leaving?”
“Mmm-hmm. This town. For good.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
She takes this in with a slow nod.
“Okay,” she says finally. “Okay. I’m going to guess it didn’t go very well with Sean in there?”
“No. But it’s more than that. I’m just tired of this place. There’s nothing here left for me. The longer I stay, the more stuck I’m going to be. I need to leave before I can’t anymore. I need to get away from it all. No more Sean, no more Tim, no more town full of bad memories. I’m 28. I’m still young. And if I don’t leave now, I might never.”
“Where are you going to go?”
“I don’t know. I have a couple of thousand in savings from my inheritance which, by my reckoning, gives me about three months before I need to worry. I’ve always wanted to go to the west coast, so maybe I’ll head that way.” The more I talk, the more real my choice seems to become. It can’t be that hard to start over, can it? People do it all the time. It’s not like I’d be the first person to show up out of nowhere and start anew. I can do this. I am strong enough.
Hard Choices: An Erotic Romance Page 11