Page 93 of Maybe Yours (Love & Wine)

Jack shrugs as he lifts his glass. “I think you shouldn’t dismiss it as an option.”

I exhale. “Fuck man, you’re not really helping me here.”

He laughs, slapping me on the back. “Only you can make this decision, Tommy. I think you know what you need to do, you’re just afraid of doing it.”

“I don’t know.”

“Sure you do,” he says, standing as he reaches for the bottle. “Come on.”

I look up at him, confused. “Where?”

Jack laughs. “I think we need to get you a little more drunk.”

“We do?”

“Yep,” he says, turning and walking out of the kitchen. “Not too much though, ‘cause we have a big opening tomorrow night, but a little bit, yeah.”

The next morning, I wake up with a sore head and a mouth that feels like a dumpster. Beside me, the bed is empty, the cold sheets a reminder that Pen didn’t come home last night.

I knew she wasn’t going to, but it doesn’t make the reality any less painful, as though her absence is a reminder of every morning I’m set to face if I fuck up this whole job offer thing with her.

Groaning, I roll over, burying my face in her pillow, wishing to fuck I knew how to fix this. As much as Jack had tried to help, all he’d done was confuse me even more. The only thing I do know is that I want to be with Penny and deep down, a part of me knows that likely means I need to go with her.

“Rise and shine, sunshine.”

The sound of a banging noise has me groaning again, especially as it gets louder and louder. I bury my head under her pillow just as my bedroom door opens.

“Time to wake up,” comes Jack’s voice. He sounds far too awake and so not hungover considering how much we drank last night. I don’t even remember offering to let him stay, although it makes sense given I can barely remember even coming to bed.

“Fuck off,” I mumble from beneath the pillow when the banging noise starts again.

Jack laughs, prodding me in the side with something. “Come on, get up, I’m making you the perfect hangover cure.”

“Seriously,” I say, throwing the pillow from my face in what I hope is his general direction. “How the hell are you this cheerful?”

He’s standing beside my bed, dressed in the same jeans and t-shirt he was wearing last night, a saucepan in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. Explains the banging noise.

“God, you’re a barrel of laughs this morning, aren’t you?”

“Your fault,” I mumble. “How much did we drink last night?”

“A lot,” Jack replies, grinning. “Difference is, I’m Australian so I can handle my booze better than you.”

It’s too painful to even roll my eyes and instead I throw an arm across them as I say, “I need some more sleep.”

“No,” he says, poking me again with the wooden spoon. “You need to get up. We have shit to do today and I need you to be a functioning adult.”

“Ugh, fuck me,” I groan, throwing off the covers.

“No thanks,” Jack says with a laugh. “I prefer to fuck my wife.”

I stumble from bed, wondering if I’m maybe still a little drunk as Jack claps me on the shoulder, steadying me a little.

“Go take a shower,” he says, pushing me toward the bathroom. “I’ve got coffee brewing and bacon and eggs cooking.”

Despite how hungover I feel, the idea of coffee and food actually sounds good. As I make my way to the shower though, I pass my phone, sitting on the dresser. I reach for it, hoping to fuck that there’s a message from Penny telling me last night was all just a bad dream or a misunderstanding or something.

But when I lift the phone, there are no messages. No missed calls and no texts from her. There’s nothing at all and I can’t help but wonder if this is a sign that I’ve already lost her.

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