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His normal angry voice.
Telling me he wanted to fight someone.
A ploy to get me there?
Or was Joe actually understanding his own anger and wanting to work on it?
One thing for sure - Joe was right.
If I didn’t show up, I was going to think about it all night.
It was going to eat me alive.
If something happened…
If he got into trouble or hurt someone or got arrested -or killed someone- and he called me before it happened and I didn’t help him?
“I hate you, Joe,” I said as I stood up from the bed.
I grabbed my phone and ordered a ride to the bar.
As I waited outside the hotel, I paced the sidewalk.
I looked up at the night sky and saw stars.
It took me too many years and moments that I swore would not define my life.
I guess those moments technically did define my life.
Just not in the way I thought.
And now?
It almost felt like going back in time for a second chance…
“You look fucking amazing, Anna.”
My eyes opened wide and I stepped back as Joe moved toward me.
I looked down at myself for a second.
Then at Joe.
“I’m in jeans and a hoodie, Joe,” I said.
“Blue jeans, black hoodie,” he said. “Meeting me at a bar.”
Joe turned and pointed to an empty barstool.
Just behind the bar was a woman who stared at me like I slept with her husband.
I waved and she looked right at Joe.
Joe slid money across the bar. “Same as me. Same deal.”
“Uh-huh,” the woman said.
I sat down and she returned with two freshly poured beers.
