by Olivia Howe
I get their drinks and bring them over to the table. They both order cheeseburgers with fries. “Tommy, new order.”
“Got it, doll.” He looks at me and his facial expression changes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Every man knows that is the biggest lie all women say. Now, what’s wrong? Did he break your heart?” Tommy puts his full attention on me.
“Mark hasn’t called or been by for two days… Am I over-exaggerating? I know he doesn’t have my phone number, but he knows where I work. He could Google the café number and get ahold of me.”
“Uh oh… That’s not good, Lauren.”
“We had such an amazing time together, and now he doesn’t make an attempt to call or find me. I’m worried.”
“Listen to me, honey, and listen to me closely. You’re a beautiful young woman. One day you’ll find the man who makes all the pain, all the heartbreak you’ve been through now, worth it. Maybe Mark isn’t that man, maybe he is. Who knows? What I do know is this—you deserve nothing but happiness, and one day you’ll get that.” That coming from Tommy is amazing. He’s always joking. Not often do I see the sensitive side of him.
“That’s sweet of you, Tommy.” I wink.
“Ha-ha.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m just speaking the truth, sweetheart.” He goes back to cooking.
I lean against the counter, thinking. Even though Tommy did make me feel better with his words of wisdom, I’m still worried about Mark. What is going on with him? How can you spend a beautiful night with a woman and then not call her or see her?
Men are complicated sometimes… Well, most times. I just wish I knew what he was doing right now, what he was thinking. Does he feel the same way about me as I feel about him? I’m falling head over heels for a man who doesn’t let me know how he’s feeling.
CHAPTER 17
1 week later…
MICKEY’S BACK AT WORK. He shouldn’t be, but he is. Elsa went back home to California, so he called me to come in to help him today. I agreed happily. I would do anything for Mick, so if he needs my help, then I’m here to help him.
The day shift is always a breeze. Not many people come out for a drink. Mostly alcoholics, but no judgement given. Everyone has their reasons for wanting a drink.
I clean the tables, which are a sticky mess. Mickey’s Bar has been closed for the last week, so it’s understandable. I sweep and mop the floors, trying to help Mick has much as possible. I don’t want him lifting a finger today, even though he will likely disagree with my request. Instead, I do everything that needs to be done without his knowledge.
Mickey is in the back going over paperwork. I remember back to the day I found him lying on the floor in his office. That was the scariest moment of my life.
I remember being a child and finding my mom lying on the bathroom floor. I didn’t know what was wrong with her—I was only about five years old at the time. I tried shaking her, but she wouldn’t wake up. There was vomit covering her mouth and half of the tile, and her eyes were closed. I shook her violently and screamed out her name. She still wouldn’t wake up. My dad heard my screams and came running into the bathroom, his face pale. Quickly, he ran to the phone and called 9-1-1, and we followed the ambulance to the hospital. She had to have her stomach pumped, because she had alcohol poisoning. That was so frightening, to be five and find your mother dying on your bathroom floor, in a place that was supposed to be safe.
She used to have a drinking problem. It was bad. After that day, Dad sent her to rehab, and she finally got better. Her problem was no more. She smarted up.
I should call and talk to my parents. I forget, and I know I shouldn’t. I just have one life to live. Other than that incident with my mom, my life was perfect. My parents stayed married, and I had no worries.
A man walks into the bar, bringing my attention back to reality. I go behind the bar and smile nicely. “What can I get for you, sir?”
An old man with a beard that touches his chest doesn’t smile back at me. He just says, “Scotch.”
I pour Scotch in a small glass and slide it in front of him. He slides a credit card across the table. “Would you like to open up a tab?”
“Yup.”
Someone’s cranking. I hold onto his credit card and open a tab for him then go back to wiping down the bar. The door opens again and a pretty young woman walks in, struggling with her luggage. I look down and notice she’s pregnant. What’s she doing in a bar? I wonder.
Quickly, I help bring her bag through the front door. “Thank you so much. Ever since I became pregnant, it’s like I’m impaired or something.”
“Not a problem. How far along are you?” I ask, trying to strike up a conversation though still wondering why she’s in a bar.
“Six months. I’m having a baby boy.” She rubs her belly with a never-ending smile.
“Congratulations.”
I slide a stool out from the table for her and set her luggage next to it. “Thank you.”
“Is there anything I can get for you?”
“You must think I’m crazy, being pregnant and in a bar. I was hoping to see if you knew someone I’m looking for.”
She’s right: I did think she was crazy. “Sure.”
“His name is Adam Wilson. He’s a boxer. I don’t know if you know him or if he’s been in here.”
Shock fills my body along with rage. I check her finger. There’s a ring on it. She’s married? And pregnant? Why is a married pregnant lady looking for my boyfriend?
“I’m sorry. You probably don’t know him. He’s my husband. I heard he was in Chicago, and someone told me he’s been hanging out around here. I don’t even know why I’m in town. He won’t return my phone calls. I shouldn’t even be here.” She picks up her luggage and is out the door.
I stand there for ten minutes, still in shock.
Should I cry? Should I throw things? Is this even real?
I can’t fathom the situation that’s unfolding in front of my eyes. Adam is married and his wife is about to have his baby? I don’t understand why he would keep coming back to me, sleeping in my bed, and never tell me he’s married with a baby on the way.
How could he do this to me?
Tears bucket down my face.
I cry. I cry more than I ever have cried in my life.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know what I’m going to say to him. I don’t know anything right now.
I have to see him. I have to see him right now.
***
By the time I get to the gym, I’m drowning in tears. I take a deep breath before I go inside. Once I see him, I lose all control. He smiles until he sees I’m bawling my eyes out. Swiftly, he’s by my side, trying to hug me.
I slap him as hard as I can. My eyes pop open just like his do when he grabs his cheek. I’m just as surprised as he is.
“What the hell, Mandi? What did I do?”
Here come the tears again. “You’re married and she’s pregnant with your child. How could you not tell me, Adam? How could you?”
“Mandi, look, I can explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain about this, Adam. You’re married! You’re married and you’ve been fucking me! Telling me you love me! I can’t believe you, Adam. I didn’t think you were low enough to do something like this.”
“Mandi, it isn’t what it looks like. It isn’t even…”
I interrupt him. “She’s in Chicago looking for you. Maybe you could have the decency to talk to her.”
I run out of the gym, passing all the wondering eyes. I didn’t even notice anyone was around. At this point, I don’t even care. I don’t care about anyone or anything.
***
I run into my apartment and slam the door behind me. I go to my bedroom and fall on the bed, in tears. I can’t wrap my head around what’s going on. I should’ve let Adam explain himself, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t look
at him any longer, even though I wanted to know what the hell he was thinking, not telling me about his pregnant wife. Adam isn’t and has never been the kind of guy to do something like this. Maybe I should have heard his point of view on everything, but then again, I don’t want to, because there isn’t much to explain. He’s married. He has a baby on the way.
Adam was the only man I wanted in my life. Now, I’m not so sure about that.
The last time I cried like this, it was a good kind of cry. I’d just been signed by Birdie Publishing and it was the best day of my life. I went out celebrating with Karen, got drunk, and met a lot of drunk people who bought me shots for landing a publishing deal.
The last time I ugly-cried, a bad ugly cry, was in high school… over Adam. I cried constantly back then, because I wanted him to love me and not Clarissa. I wanted him to open his eyes and see how much better I was for him than her. We were so perfect for each other—always together, laughing like crazy, caring so much about one another.
Now I’m sitting in my bedroom, hugging a pillow to my chest, crying my eyes out because Adam lied to me. I trusted him with every part of me, and he let me down miserably.
Why would he do this to me? Why would he do this to his pregnant wife?
Adam isn’t the same man I used to know. He isn’t the guy I went to high school with all those years ago. He isn’t the sweet gentleman I saw him for. He’s a selfish asshole.
I crawl in a ball on my bed and cry myself to sleep.
***
Adam hasn’t called. He hasn’t come over to get his belongings. I’ve been sitting on my living room couch for hours watching P.S. I Love You and other depressing movies while eating ice cream out of the container.
Every emotion has run through my body—sadness, anger, rage—except for one: happiness.
I thought Adam and I had a future together. I never wanted anyone other than him. He was my forever. Life has been so much better with him in it.
It’s over, Mandi!
I need to remove everything that reminds me of him.
I throw the empty ice cream container away and grab Adam’s suitcase. I pack up all his shit, making sure I don’t forget anything. I set it neatly in the hallway. Now we don’t ever have to see each other again. He can get his things without even bothering me with his lies.
I slam the door as hard as I can, thinking it will help. It doesn’t. All it accomplishes is make a few picture frames fall off the wall. My neighbors probably hate me.
Cleaning will help get my mind off things. It always does. When I get stressed out, pissed off, or nervous, I start cleaning my apartment top to bottom.
I start with the dishes then the sweeping and mopping. I move from the kitchen to the living room to the bathroom and, lastly, my room. I dust every corner of my place, doing anything and everything to keep my mind occupied.
I still think about him. I can’t stop thinking about him. I thought this would help, but all it’s helping is my apartment.
After the house is spotless, I sit down at my desk in the living room, open my laptop, and start to write. Well, I try to write. Nothing happens. I stare at the blinking cursor and a blank chapter.
I can’t write.
I can’t think straight.
I can’t stop thinking about him.
Why in the hell would he do this to me? If he really loves me, you don’t do shit like this to the ones you love. It goes to show his true feelings and intentions. What, was I just a vacation for him from his wife? I must’ve been.
The poor woman came all the way to Chicago to find her husband.
Am I dreaming? I wish I was dreaming. I wish I was anyone besides me. This pain, this heartbreak, is starting to be unbearable. I can’t take this feeling. I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I built a wall so high and strong, but when Adam came, he bulldozed right through it with ease.
Only Adam would be able to do something like that, because he’s the only man I have ever truly loved.
Loved? Love? Do I still love him? What does that word even mean anymore? People nowadays throw it around like the word “hello.”
I know I meant it. Saying “I love you” to Adam was the thing I was most sure of in life. I never lied to him. Never. Every word I spoke was the truth.
I put my head phones on and play “Changes” by Tesla. Tesla is right when he talks about time making changes. It’s true. Time is always changing everything in life. Now it’s changing Adam and me. The time we had together was nice. It was more than nice. It was the best time of my life. But now it’s over, and I don’t know how I’m going to get through each and every day without him.
It’s funny how a few seconds can change everything in your life. Nothing ever stays the same. I wish it would. I wish I was in a dreamland—or, I should say, nightmare—about to wake up any minute now. I would wake up next to Adam and tell him the horrible things that I had dreamt about. He would pull me close and remind me how I had nothing to worry about and I was the only woman he needs in his life.
Now, that’s the dream, not reality.
What am I going to do with myself? Days are going to feel longer, nights are going to get harder, and life is just going to get way too complicated for me. I can’t bear this pain anymore.
I need to sleep.
I need to get rid of this aching in my heart.
I make sure the door is locked before I go to bed. I don’t want any chance of Adam coming back and welcoming himself into my apartment. I don’t want to see him ever again. I can’t. It will just make moving on harder for me, and it’s already hard enough.
I crawl into my bed and pull the blankets over my head. Sleep is the only thing I can think of to cure my broken heart.
CHAPTER 18
I WAKE UP LATE THE NEXT DAY. The afternoon sun is already high in the sky and shining brightly into my room. Sleeping took the pain away for a while but didn’t cure it. I wish it had.
What am I going to do today?
I need to write. I’m late sending Barbara the next pages in my novel. She’s probably been emailing me, but I haven’t checked it in a week or so. I’m never going to hear the end of this one unless I make the wait worth it to her with brilliant material.
I can do this.
I have to do this.
The smile that used to be permanent on my face is now scrubbed off and washed away. It’s gone, and I don’t think it’s going to come back for a very long time.
My heart is broken. It’s shattered into pieces. I can’t wrap my mind around the meaning of my life without Adam. I know I can’t ever have him back, not after all the shit that’s been happening.
I check my phone. Adam’s called fifty-two times. Holy shit! I didn’t even hear my phone ring that many times. I was out cold, sleeping since yesterday afternoon.
I don’t want to talk to him. He tore my heart apart.
I sit at my desk and open my laptop. I need to get some writing done today. I have no choice. I want the distraction of my characters.
I stare at the blank chapter on my laptop screen… again. It’s so hard to write when you’ve lost your muse. He was the reason I started this beautiful novel. His presence helped me write a beautiful book that my publisher loves.
I’ve lost my muse. Will I ever be able to finish this novel?
I know I can do this.
As my fingers start sliding across the keyboard, someone knocks at my door.
I know exactly who it is, and I don’t want to see or talk to him. I don’t want anything to do with him anymore. He needs to go home to his pregnant wife.
I stand by my front door, waiting for him to speak. “Mandi, it’s Adam. Please open the door. I need to talk to you.”
I stay silent. I don’t want him to know I’m here, because I don’t want to talk to him, and seeing his face will break my heart even more, if that’s even possible.
“Mandi, please. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you…”
I don’t say anything. He
could’ve told me; he chose not to.
“One thing I never lied about is loving you. I love you for always. And I’m sorry for putting you through this. You don’t deserve it.”
I put my ear against the door. I hear him pick up his luggage and walk down the hallway with it.
Tears fall down my cheeks.
Adam promised to never leave me, to never stop loving me, to never hurt me. Well, he lied about all of the above. He left me. He stopped loving me. And he hurt me. I know I’m the reason he left, but he lied to me. I know he said he still loves me, but you don’t hurt someone you love. You don’t lie to someone you love.
Love is supposed to be blissful. It’s supposed to bring you joy and hope. It’s supposed to be special. Love is a bond between two people that is irresistible, and no matter what will never go away. If you truly love someone, you will always love them. A special love like that will never fade, will never drown, will never sink to the bottom of the ocean, and, most importantly, will never be forgotten.
Moving on is going to be the hardest thing I ever do, but I have to do it. I don’t have a choice. I can’t be this sad little broken girl.
I feel this urge swarm through my body. It’s time to write. It’s time to spill all of these emotions out in my writing.
***
I’m numb. Or am I? Mark let me down, and I’m so utterly disappointed. I haven’t cried. Well, not yet. I know it’s coming. I feel the heartbreak making its appearance, and I know it’s going to hurt. It’s going to hurt so much, more than any heartbreak I’ve ever had.
I should’ve seen this coming. I should’ve known better. He’s a rock star. Women are throwing themselves at him and bowing on their knees. He’s surrounded by all of these women who can probably give them something I can’t. But one thing is for sure: I can give him something they can’t. True love and devotion.
Carrie snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Lauren. Where’s your mind at?”
“On Pluto.”
