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“You are an insensitive ass, Molly, really,” I said, catching a tear from my last bout of laughter.
“Seriously, Violet, you can’t make shit like this up. I mean, dear God, what a fucking story.”
“It’s not funny,” I said firmly as the corners of my lips lifted. She stared at me for a full minute before we both burst out laughing.
“Okay,” she said, lifting the cocktail straw to her mouth, “if you honestly want to know what I think, I say take him with all his flaws and his baggage, Violet, because he has to take you the same way. It’s really very simple. In this fucked up situation, even with all the drama, you two make each other happy. Your coincidences make you miserable, but they are no longer in the picture. She is no longer in the picture. He’s going to fuck up and so are you. That’s a given. I don’t blame you for holding your ground on the ‘omission’ thing, but don’t drag it out until you two are strangers. You are so ready to stand up for yourself in this relationship because you didn’t do a damn thing in the previous one to defend yourself, but you are punishing the wrong guy.”
“I will not be treated like that, ever again,” I whispered to her, and to myself.
“And I’m glad you’ve seen the light. Just don’t let it blind you from seeing the guy who deserves you,” she said, nodding to the bartender to refill her glass.
Maybe I was being an ass by dragging it out, or maybe the Old Fashioned I was drinking was doing a good job of making my situation a little less serious, less devastating. Either way, I was less angry, and for the first time in a week, I felt like I could recover.
And I missed him.
“Ladies, these drinks are on the gentlemen at the table behind you.” We looked over our shoulders and lifted our glasses in thank you.
“Thank you,” Molly said flirtatiously in a singsong tone.
“Happy New Year’s,” I said cheerfully.
Minutes later, the four of us were making small talk. I had protested Molly leaving the seat next to me, and was stuck in the position of entertaining Luke, a dark-haired, dark-eyed friend of the gentlemen that Molly had quickly become smitten with. I made polite conversation, but gave no indication whatsoever that I was interested. In truth, I felt guilty and was on edge with the way he was looking at me. I had dressed in a sexy, form fitting, backless dress and worn a curtain of pearls that draped down the center of my back to cover some of my exposed skin. After a week of infomercials and Ben and Jerry’s, I wanted to feel like a woman again, a decision I was regretting as the man to my left fucked me with his stare.
Nothing about the situation felt innocent and suddenly I needed to talk to Rhys. I pulled my phone from my clutch and saw I had just gotten a text.
RHYS: He couldn’t make you come with a detailed map of your clit and an instructional video.
Oh, shit!
I looked over my shoulder and scanned the bar, coming up empty.
I sat stunned as Luke spoke in circles. Pausing when it was my turn to reply, I completely drew a blank.
“I’m sorry. What were you saying?”
I could feel his eyes on me, though I couldn’t see him. My mother must have told him where to find me. She and I would have to have a long talk about boundaries. She had never interfered before, but I couldn’t help but smile about the fact that I knew whose side she was on tonight—or in the last week, for that matter; it wasn’t mine. Luke trailed his hand down my shoulder and I flinched at the contact. I looked over my shoulder and found Rhys standing close, fury in his stare. He closed his eyes briefly, as if in pain, and walked out of the bar.
“I’m sorry, Luke, but I’m in a committed relationship.” I took a twenty out of my purse and signaled to Molly that I was leaving. She gave me a ‘please don’t go look’ as I stood, waiting for her to join me, but she refused.
“I expect a call or text in a few hours,” I said to Molly, shrugging into my coat. As I made my way toward the door, I quickly texted him.
VIOLET: Where are you?
I walked outside the bar and saw his taillights as he drove out of the parking lot.
What in the hell?
I got into a cab and was at his door within minutes. I turned the knob and was rewarded. He stood at the foot of his stairs, looking gorgeous in a tailored suit as he gripped the top of a freshly filled tumbler that rested on his thigh, his phone in hand. The house was completely dark except for a small amount of light gracing the stairway from above. I could feel his frustration and see it in his eyes.
We stared for a full minute before I took a step toward him.
“Don’t come any closer,” he cautioned, eyeing me. “I’m angry.”
“Why did you leave?” I asked, ignoring his warning. “Why are you so angry, Rhys?”
“Why?” His laugh did not indicate in any way that anything was funny.
I unbuttoned my jacket and let it fall to the floor as I took another step forward.
