My Favorite Souvenir

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My Favorite Souvenir Page 16

by Ward, Penelope


  “Oh, that’s true.”

  The waitress finally came around to take my order. I opted for a Cosmo. Brady also ordered a medley of olives, cheese, and crackers.

  “If you’re hungry, once Duncan gets here, we can get out of this place and find a proper dinner.”

  “No, that’s not necessary. This place is great. I can nosh on appetizer kind of stuff all night.”

  He placed his hand on my back. “Okay. Just let me know if you get more of an appetite.”

  The contact of his hand caused me to shift in my seat.

  His eyes lingered on mine, to the point that it actually made me blush. “You look fucking amazing tonight, Hazel.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I want to kiss you so badly, but I don’t know how you’d feel if I did.” He groaned. “I wanna do a lot more than just kiss you, actually.”

  I couldn’t remember the last time Brady had said something like that—expressed a need for me in such a way. It was definitely a turn-on to be wanted. I knew he wasn’t lying; I could tell from the look in his eyes. It was interesting how much more attractive I seemed to be now that I was somewhat unavailable.

  I decided to continue on the path I knew to be better for me.

  “I think it’s best if you don’t…kiss me.”

  He looked a little defeated. “I figured.” Then he smiled. “But I understand. I’ll be patient.”

  The waitress brought the cheese and olive plate, and I began snacking while enjoying my drink, which was thankfully pretty strong.

  My eyes wandered over to the door. And that’s when my heart dropped.

  I blinked.

  Holy shit. I must be hallucinating.

  I blinked some more.

  There was a man at the door who looked just like…Milo.

  My heart raced with every second that passed, and it felt like everything I’d just eaten was coming back up. I then remembered Milo had had plans to visit a friend in New York a few days after he left Atlanta. He’d never actually said how long he was staying.

  Could it be him?

  With eight million people in New York, there was no way we both happened to be in this same tiny bar at the same time. It just couldn’t be. What were the odds?

  I squinted.

  Panic set in.

  Oh my God.

  The longer I looked over there, the more I was sure. It was him.

  It was Milo.

  Milo was in this bar!

  Holy shit.

  Holy shit.

  Holy shit.

  I froze.

  Do I sneak into the bathroom?

  Do I stay in this corner and hope he doesn’t notice me?

  Do I grow some balls and go up to him?

  What do I tell Brady?

  I couldn’t put Milo in the situation of having to meet Brady, either.

  I wanted to cry.

  How could this be happening?

  As I struggled to catch my breath, Brady turned to look at me. “Hazel, are you okay? Your face is, like, turning white.”

  “I’m fine.” I panted.

  “You don’t look fine.”

  Things only got worse from there as Milo started walking in our direction. It felt like the room was spinning.

  Then his eyes landed on mine, and it felt like the world had stopped spinning.

  Milo looked straight at me.

  His mouth dropped open, and he began walking faster, like he couldn’t get to me fast enough as he weaved through the crowd.

  I knew I had no choice but to deal with this situation head on.

  Except I had no clue what I was in for.

  Because when Brady turned around to face him, the last thing I ever expected occurred.

  He raised his hand, waving Milo over. “Dunc! There you are.”

  • • •

  What the hell is happening?

  What. Is. Happening?

  Duncan is Milo?

  Milo is Duncan…Brady’s best friend?

  As soon as Milo got to our table, he hugged Brady and let his bag drop to the floor. He took one look in my eyes and pretended not to know me. What choice did he have? Before Brady could introduce us, Milo excused himself to the bathroom, saying he had to go badly after his flight. But I knew better. I suspected he needed to get his bearings. He had looked just as shocked as I felt in this moment.

  I sat, still trying to make sense of this.

  “He must have really had to go,” Brady said, clueless to my turmoil.

  All of the sounds of the bar became muffled compared to the pounding inside my head.

  When I spotted Milo walking back to our table, my heart rate, which had already been racing, moved to sprinting.

  He took a seat next to Brady. “Sorry about that.”

  “Hey.” Brady shrugged. “When you gotta go, you gotta go, right?”

  Milo’s eyes landed on mine. If one look could ask a thousand questions, his certainly did. He looked so confused…hurt…angry.

  “Dunc, now that you’ve properly taken a leak, I can finally formally introduce you to Hazel. I can’t believe you two are only now meeting.”

  “Yeah. Only now. Amazing.” Milo reached his hand out to me.” Nice to meet you, Hazel.”

  He squeezed my hand. And in his touch, there again were the silent questions emanating from him. I wanted to cry. But I had to keep my composure.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too…Duncan.”

  He let go of my hand and explained, “Old friends from college call me Duncan or Dunc. Duncan is actually my last name.” He looked into my eyes. “My name is Matteo.”

  Matteo.

  Milo’s name is Matteo.

  Even though Brady was right there, it felt like we were in our own world as Milo—Matteo—and I introduced our true selves to each other for the first time. It was surreal.

  “And I’m…Hazel.”

  “He already knows your name, babe,” Brady interrupted.

  I ignored Brady’s comment, still staring deeply into his friend’s eyes.

  Matteo couldn’t take his eyes off me, either. “Hazel...like hazelnuts…”

  I nodded. “Matteo. Like Matthew.”

  Brady looked between us. “Okay, this conversation is like an episode of Sesame Street.” He laughed.

  Neither of us joined him.

  I got chills. To think I’d called my father to check on him after that psychic mentioned the name Matthew, when it was in reference to Matteo all along. He was the one she’d warned me about, and now it all made sense.

  The waitress came over and took Milo’s…Duncan’s…Matteo’s drink order.

  Matteo.

  What a beautiful name. A beautiful name for a beautiful man—one who looked more tormented than I’d ever seen him.

  His eyes still seared into mine. “So…what’s going on with you two? Last I heard, the wedding was off. I’m surprised to see you here, Hazel.”

  Unable to form words, I looked over at Brady.

  “Hazel and I are taking things slowly again. I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since the wedding was called off.”

  “Yeah.” He swallowed. “You definitely never mentioned anything.”

  “I’m sorry you’d already booked your ticket to Vail,” Brady said. “But I’m glad you got to visit your family anyway, so it wasn’t a waste of a trip.”

  “Well, yeah, it was about time I visited the old turf anyway.”

  “So, what have you been up to?” Brady asked. “You took some time off from your teaching gig, right?”

  “Yeah. Still in the midst of my sabbatical. I ended up staying in Vail for a little while…” He looked at me. “Then randomly ended up taking a road trip from Colorado through the South. Stayed in Atlanta for a while longer than I’d planned, and then decided to go home to Seattle for a week before coming here.”

  Brady was still processing. “Wait…you took a road trip alone?”

  “No, actually. I met someone in Vail. She and I
ended up traveling together.”

  “Really.” Brady smirked. “Was she cute?”

  Matteo glanced at me. “Very.”

  “Where is she now?”

  He paused, closing his eyes and looking frustrated, as if he wanted to answer Right fucking here.

  “We went our separate ways,” he finally said.

  Brady smacked his hand on the table. “This is why I love this guy. Only Dunc could get some random chick to go on a road trip with him. He has balls. While the rest of us sit around working our nine-to-fives, my man here does the things everyone dreams about.”

  “Believe me, it’s not as fun as you might think being me.”

  That hurt.

  “Whatever happened to her—this girl? What’s her name?”

  I cringed.

  The waitress set a beer in front of him. Matteo took a long swig and slammed the bottle on the table. “Maddie. Her name was Maddie.”

  “So, any plans to meet up with her again? Or was it just a one-time deal?”

  His eyes darted toward mine. “Pretty sure now that our trip was the end of the line.”

  That message reached me loud and clear. My heart was breaking. There was an undertone of anger in his voice that was unfamiliar to me. I hoped he wasn’t mad at me. How could I have known this was going to happen? This was like some kind of nightmare.

  While it now made sense why he’d been in Vail—for my wedding that never happened—I still had so many questions.

  Did he ever suspect who I was?

  If not, how did he not put two and two together after I told him I’d been dumped by my fiancé? It never occurred to him that I could have been Brady’s ex? Something was missing.

  Then again, we never did exchange names.

  Matteo.

  Matteo Duncan.

  I had to get used to that name.

  What killed me about this whole experience was that I could tell Matteo was really hurting, and I couldn’t comfort him. His body was rigid. His fists were closed. That told me he never saw this coming and very likely had no inkling who I was.

  We were both the apparent victims of bad luck.

  Very back luck.

  He downed the rest of his beer in one long drink and shoved his chair back before standing up. “I’m gonna let you guys have a romantic evening. I’m pretty tired anyway. Gonna go check into my hotel and call it a night.”

  Brady’s forehead wrinkled. He was definitely confused by his friend’s behavior. “I thought you were staying with me?”

  “Yeah…that was the original plan, but I decided to get a hotel at the last minute.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive, yeah.” He lifted his bag off the ground and threw it over his shoulder.

  “Maybe we can hang tomorrow night?” Brady said.

  “Yeah. Sure.” Matteo looked over at me. “Hazel, it was a pleasure.” He reached out his hand, and when I took it this time, he squeezed even harder than before.

  Then he turned around and never looked back as he disappeared out the door.

  I stared blankly at the exit for what seemed like minutes on end, and Brady finally turned to me.

  “Duncan seemed a little off. Something must be up with him.”

  My heart still reeling, I exhaled. “Yeah…”

  “He’s fun as all hell, but he’s been through his share of shit. His girlfriend died a few years back in a skiing accident. Not sure I ever mentioned that when you and I met. It happened before you. Anyway, I wonder if seeing us together again reminded him of her or something.”

  I shut my eyes tightly.

  “He’s never really been the same since that happened. Duncan was so full of life before Zoe died. He used to sing—perform at clubs. You can imagine he had no problem getting women.” He chuckled. “But once he met her, it was like he’d met his match. They started performing together. It seemed he’d found his soulmate, until the accident.”

  I swallowed. “That’s so sad.”

  Brady stared off. “I should’ve been a better friend to him all these years. We lost touch a bit. He fell into his own world, and I should’ve made more of an effort to be there for him. It’s hard to do that from across the country, but I didn’t try hard enough. Despite the fact that we’d grown apart, when it came down to choosing a best man, he was still the first person who came to mind.” Brady took my hand. “Maybe he’ll still have a chance to stand up for me if I’m lucky enough to marry you.”

  I wanted to vomit—not only because of this conversation, but because someone I cared about very much was out there hurting, and I had no idea how to get to him. I didn’t have to even imagine how he was feeling. Because I was feeling every bit of it, too.

  Brady looked around the room. “I think our waitress got lost. I’m going to go up to the bar and grab another beer. You want another drink, babe?”

  I nodded. The lump in my throat made it difficult to push words out. “I’m going to go to the restroom while you do that.”

  After Brady disappeared into the crowd, I sat at the table alone for a minute, feeling completely shell shocked.

  What the hell was I going to do?

  I needed to talk to Milo in the worst way.

  But we had never even exchanged phone numbers.

  Taking out my phone, I Googled Matteo Duncan, hoping by some miracle a phone number would pop up. Of course, luck was again not on my side.

  I really needed a few more minutes alone, so I decided to go to the bathroom before Brady got back. As I stood, I looked down and noticed Brady had left his cell phone on the table.

  My pulse sped up.

  Milo’s number.

  He must have Milo’s number in there.

  It wouldn’t be so strange if I took it to the ladies’ room? It would be sort of irresponsible to leave a thousand-dollar phone unattended on the table of a crowded bar.

  Not allowing myself to overanalyze it, I glanced around the bar for any sign of Brady. Finding the coast clear, I swiped the phone off the table and practically ran to the ladies’ room.

  My heart pounded in my chest as I locked myself in a stall. With my hands shaking, I prayed Brady hadn’t changed his passcode as I typed it in.

  0-5-1-4

  Bingo.

  The phone unlocked, and I exhaled a loud stream of air.

  Calling up the contacts, I typed in Milo and nothing appeared. Realizing Brady would certainly not have his friend listed by our fake Hooker names, I tried Matteo. But still nothing came up. So I typed Duncan, praying he was in there.

  Thankfully, that was it. I took a deep breath and hit Call.

  My entire body was tense as the phone just kept ringing.

  Pick up.

  Pick up.

  Pick up.

  But in the end, there was no answer. No voicemail, either. It just kept ringing and ringing. So were my ears. Leaning my head against the door of the stall, everything hit me at once. Tears fell down my cheeks, and I wondered how long it would be before Brady figured out there was something very wrong.

  Chapter 17

  * * *

  Matteo

  It had been two days, and I still felt like shit.

  Though, some of this morning’s pain might have to do with the amount of liquor I’d consumed last night in the hotel bar and not just the kick in the stomach my buddy and my girl had hit me with.

  My girl.

  Fuck. That really was how I thought of her. Or had thought. Or still do think. I don’t know anymore. I wasn’t sure about anything to do with Maddie at this point.

  Or Hazel.

  Her damn name was Hazel.

  The fact that we’d never exchanged our real names had seemed almost romantic to me. But after the revelation two nights ago, I realized I’d been nothing but a romantic fool. Our fake names only clarified what our relationship had been from the start: a fraud.

  Her fiancé dumped her two months before the wedding? Yeah, right. Funny how when my buddy had ca
lled to tell me the wedding was off, he’d told me his fiancée had been the one to back out. I’d believed every word Maddie had said to me, without questioning any of it. Even today, after forty-eight hours of letting things sink in, a part of me still wanted to believe her. Which was nuts, because why the hell would I take the word of a woman I’d known for such a short time—a woman who’d obviously lied to me about at least one important element of her breakup—over the buddy I’d had for nearly ten years.

  An ache in my chest urged me to think about why. But I refused to go there.

  I just couldn’t.

  What difference did it make what feelings I had for her, anyway?

  She was my buddy’s girl.

  She wasn’t mine anymore.

  Or rather, she never had been.

  For forty-eight hours, all I’d done was think about every interaction we’d had. Had I been seeing things that weren’t really there? Was I so desperate to connect with someone that I accepted her injured-soul story even though—if I were to look more closely—there had been signs she was full of shit?

  There had to be.

  You can’t spend night and day with a person for nearly two weeks and not see some crack in the façade they’re wearing. I had to have been seeing what I wanted to see.

  But for the life of me, no matter how often I looked back for those tiny fissures, all I could see was my Maddie.

  My Maddie.

  I couldn’t see who she really was—Hazel who made up stories about being dumped when she’d really taken off on her loving fiancé. Not even in hindsight.

  Which was fucked up. Because two nights ago, the truth had slapped me right across the damn face.

  Forcing myself out of bed at almost eleven in the morning, I took a quick shower and guzzled a bottle of water, along with a few Tylenol. When I’d checked into the hotel, I’d only booked two nights. So if I didn’t extend my stay, housekeeping would be walking in to clean the vacated room soon. I had to push myself to get dressed, hoping my pounding hangover would subside soon, and I headed downstairs to the lobby.

  “Hi. I’m in room 1522. I’m supposed to check out today. Would it be possible to extend my stay?”

  The hotel clerk typed into his computer. “Sure. Do you want just one more night?”

  I had no idea what I wanted. “Yeah, I think so.”

 

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