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He grunts, and I push the money toward him again. “Can I have some change?”
He exchanges the bills in the cash drawer. And I take a few of the singles and stuff the rest in his tip jar. “Good to see you, too.”
I lift the bottle and glass, and he stalks off to tend to a man perched at the bar while eyeing me with warning.
A warning I ignore.
I set my things at the table closest to the jukebox, tumbler in hand, and search through the endless music and pause when I see it.
“Keep on Smilin’” by Wet Willie. The song Sean and I danced to in the street. I searched for it the day after the festival and kept it on repeat for days—reliving those short minutes we spent together before he left me without a word.
And I’d just had a run-in with his wife.
His beautiful wife, who he has two children with.
I toss back a good amount of liquid, trying to extinguish one burn with another. Why in the hell do I have to be the one to pay the highest cost for our shared past?
Because it’s the way it is.
Because I’m the villain.
Because I’m the one encroaching on the reality of now with my hang-ups over the past.
I punch in the numbers and glance around the mostly empty bar, before shrugging off my blazer and taking my seat.
When the music starts to play, my eyes instantly water.
I can’t seek him out now, and I’m terrified to run into him. Terrified of what his reception will be. If it’s half as scalding as his beautiful wife’s, I don’t know if I’ll survive it. The floodwater that separated us years ago is now stale, murky, and unrecognizable. No way to wade through, no way to get around.
I can’t go back there. I can’t move forward without my answers. I thumb my engagement ring and decide to box it in the morning. It’s going to be the most painful step to fully let go of my future—of Collin—before I make peace with the past. But that’s the order of things, and it’s time. I didn’t come back to drown. I came back in search of my kick. Lost in my thoughts, a masculine scent invades me before a familiar voice whispers in my ear.
“Can I have this dance?”
I turn my head, and my jaw drops when recognition kicks in. “Tyler?”
“Hey, Cee,” he says softly, his eyes filled with warmth where he towers above me, his hands on the table. Stumbling back, I leap from my seat and lunge for him, he catches me easily, pulling me into a bear hug.
I hug him so tight he coughs out a chuckle of surprise. “I almost didn’t recognize you in a suit.”
“Hey, girl, hey,” he croons softly, tightening his hold.
I pull away as his eyes glitter over me and tears sting my eyes.
“You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”
He grins. “You are ten times more lethal than when I met you. You are fucking beautiful, woman.”
“Thank you,” I say, soaking him in. He’s got a scar on his chin now. It’s white, old. I run my finger along it. “What happened?”
“Battle scars,” he says softly. And I wonder if it has anything to do with the last time I saw him, but I dare not ask. He shakes off his coat and takes a seat.
“I can’t stay long.”
“Drink?” I pour some of the whiskey into my glass and thrust it at him. I’m not above bribery for just a few minutes with an old friend.
He takes the offered glass and tosses it back, eyeing me the whole time.
“You know he’s coming, right?”
