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“Then you’re going to get lucky tonight, Mr. Beech. Very, very lucky.”
Damn, I love this girl.
Reaching for my wallet as we settle in the tent, I pull out the one condom I put in there months ago. There was a night where I thought it might happen. Things were hot and heavy, but we were interrupted. I’m so glad it didn’t happen that night. This is going to be so much better.
As the memoriesof that night begin to fade away, the anger seeps back in. She gave me a piece of her that I can never give back. A piece that I don’t want because it must not have meant that much to her after all.
Not if she left me for someone else.
Someone who knocked her up a few months later.
Someone who bought her a giant ring that she accepted.
Looking toward her hand, I notice the absence of the rock I saw her wearing in Denver. Either he wised up and left her or she broke his heart and moved on. It doesn’t matter either way. The facts still remain.
Unable to look at her any longer, I step back inside the bar and flip the sign to closed. I need to get out of here. I need a moment to breathe, somewhere I know she won’t be lurking around the corner.
