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“Okay, I'm going,” I say, looking around for my keys. “Do you see my keys anywhere?”
“They're in your hand, Millie.”
I hold up my hand, my keys dangling between my fingers. “Right.”
“Just go already,” she says, pushing the outside of my thigh. “I'll finish up here today, and then next week, since you don't have a job, we can spend every day here together.” She smiles big as she pulls some garden tools from her basket. “Text me later and let me know how it goes.”
“If I'm back here in tears, you'll know.”
“You won't be. I saw how he looked at you, trust me, he loves you.”
I jog to my car, and drive to the one place I might find him, at the bar.
I try to call him on the way, just to see if he'll answer, but he doesn't. I stopped leaving messages two days ago, if he wants to call me, he will. But I'm done waiting for answers. I'm taking charge, for once in my life, and I'm not backing down.
Parking outside the bar, I look around, but I don't see his truck. My stomach drops a little as I stand outside the door, still scanning for his vehicle.
I don't think he's here.
Go check anyway, the little voice inside my head whispers.
Pulling the door open, I step inside the bar. The room appears so dark it's hard to see at first. Blinking a few times, I rub my eyes until they finally come into focus.
The room is busy. There are people having lunch and hanging out at the bar drinking. Laughter fills the room from all directions.
My eyes move from one face to the next, until I finally spot him. Hardin is sitting at the far end of the bar with another guy. They're eating and talking, but he doesn't look happy. His head is down, and he keeps shrugging and talking with his hands as he takes bites of his sandwich.
I want to get his attention, but I'm not sure how.
Screw it. Just go for it!
Sucking in a deep breath, I exhale slowly as I walk right to him. I stand behind him quietly, wanting so badly to reach out and touch his shoulder, but not sure how to take that step.
I don't have to think about it long because the man he's with glances back at me, and gives Hardin an elbow. Hardin sits up, twisting his head to look back. Our eyes meet, but he doesn't say anything.
“Hey,” I say, giving him a little wave.
He turns back around slowly, his eyes dropping to his plate. “You shouldn't be here.”
“I'm pretty sure it's a public bar,” I say with a nervous laugh.
“You know what I mean.”
“I know, but I need you to talk to you. Please, just hear me out.”
“Millie, it's never going to work. We both know this.”
“I don't know that. And I don't think there's any possible way you could know that either.” Taking the seat next to him, I grab his arm. “Can we—” I start to say, then lower my voice. “Can we go talk somewhere else?”
“No, we can't. We don't need to. Your father made it pretty clear, and you know what, I think he's right. Is that what you need to hear to get it? He's right, even if you don't want to admit it.”
“How can you say that?” My eyes start to well up with tears, but I push them away. I'm not going to cry, not yet, and not here. Tears will only mean I agree with him. And I don't agree at all. “Hardin,” I say, attempting to touch his arm, but he yanks it away.
The man next to Hardin grabs his shoulder and flicks his eyes between us. This is awkward for him; it's written all over his face. The muscles on his face pull up tight, and his eyes fill with all of things he wants to ask or say, and can't.
The man lets out a sigh and parts his lips. I half expect him to tell me to get lost, that his friend has made it clear, and I need to just move on. Except, he doesn't say anything like that, he simply excuses himself from the conversation altogether.
“So. . .” The word plays out as he slaps the top of the bar. “I think I'm going to go. I'll see you tomorrow morning at work, Hardin.” He gets up from his seat and tosses some money on the bar, then leaves.
“Who was that?” I ask.
“That was my boss, Oliver.” Hardin wipes his mouth with a napkin, then balls it up and drops it on his plate. “Look, Millie,” he says, finally turning to face me, “we had some fun, and I don't regret any of it, but this is where it ends.”
How can he say that? It was more than fun and we both know it.
