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We finally get out of bed around ten o’clock and shower together in silence. As the water cascades around us we kiss for what seems like hours and hold each other close.
We pack our things and as I walk out of the bedroom, I look at the mess of white sheets and blankets. It looks like some sort of storm hit it. I know that I will never forget this place, this room, this bed or this man for as long as I live. I feel like this week with Jonathan has changed me and will help mold the woman I become when I go home.
We leave our cottage and climb into Scarlett one last time. The drive to the hotel is a silent one. When we reach the hotel, he turns off the car and just sits there.
With his forehead on the steering wheel he says. “Gracie, please don’t do this.”
I open my car door and he jumps to attention.
“No! Please do not get out of this car! Let me come around.”
He jumps out of the car and is to my door in seconds. He helps me out, then grabs my hands and rubs the top of mine with his thumbs.
“Baby, don’t do this. Please just give me your phone number. We can just text or call, no obligations. You can be like a pen pal while I’m gone. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give, just promise me this isn’t the end.”
“I can’t.” I whisper, as the tears start streaming down my face.
“Yes, you can.” He pleads.
This is breaking my heart. Watching him begging for any little piece of me that I am willing to give is more than I can handle. I want to think of him as my big tough Marine, and not this mess I’ve made him today. He deserves so much better than what I’m giving him in this moment.
I reach my hand into the jeep to grab my bags and I can feel the panic that’s radiating from him in the air.
The tears that were hiding behind his sunglasses fall down his face. He lifts his glasses to sit on top of his head and wipes his face roughly with his hands.
“Don’t do this,” he whispers on a shaky breath.
I lift up on my toes and kiss him on the lips, the most perfect lips that I will ever kiss, now covered in the bittersweet salt of his tears.
“I love you, Georgia.”
And with that I turn and walk through the front doors of the hotel, into the elevator, onto our floor and into our room. As soon as the door closes I fall to the ground in a heap of despair and break down.
I am so sorry, Jonathan, I hope you forgive me one day.
Do I Wanna Know
Jonathan ~ 2015
Another Saturday night.
Another night of drinking at Kells.
Another night of Courtney hanging off me even when I don’t act interested.
I don’t really know why I came out tonight because I’m just not feeling it. I usually love this place. Kells Irish Pub is our home away from home and I’ve spent many a night and many dollars in this place. This is the place that all of us cops go for special occasions; promotions, birthdays, retirements and the occasional wake.
I’m in a funk. If Mick hadn’t let Devon know everybody was meeting up tonight, I’m sure I would be at home getting drunk alone. Instead, I’m here where it costs three times as much more to get to that same place. A place I seem to be seeking out a little more than I should these days.
I know that Devon can tell that I’m not in a good place. It was his idea for me to move here to Portland after our time in the Corps was over. He knew that staying in Georgia wasn’t a good idea for me and persuaded me to move here. I crashed with him until I was able to find my own place and he and Gabby are now a constant in my life. My family. They came by tonight and picked me up and made me come out with them. They didn’t really give me a choice.
Now, here I am standing at the back of the bar with Courtney attached to me and no sign of her letting go. If she would just step away for two minutes I would be out of here.
It’s my own fault and I know that. I had been warned about her. She’s what we call a Badge Bunny. She only dates cops and she’s slowly but surely making her way through the single, and not so single, guys in the department. I, in a drunken stupor, not once . . . but twice fell into her vagina at the end of two hazy nights here at Kells. Don’t ask me why because I cannot stand her. She is the opposite of everything I like in a woman. Fake tan, fake tits, fake hair, fake nails, fake eyelashes and her personality is just as fake as the rest of her. She actually kind of repulses me but somehow she always seems to find me. She doesn’t have my number and I have never asked for hers, but if I’m out . . . anywhere in this damn city . . . I swear to Jesus that woman is in the same place at the same time. It’s getting really old.
I finally decide I’ve had enough and tell her that I’m gonna call it a night. Her response doesn’t surprise me at all when she says, “Okay, let me just go tell my girlfriend we’re leaving and I’ll be ready to go.”
“No, Courtney, I’m going home alone.”
