Bouquet Toss

by Melissa Brown

  “You’re really hot when you dance, Daphne.” Evan says, looking deep into my eyes.

  “Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.” I reply, raising an eyebrow.

  “I was hoping I’d see you here. Matt mentioned you’ve been seeing someone, but you seem pretty available tonight...”

  Evan and I have crossed paths in the past, usually in settings such as these, but I’ve never paid him much attention. He’s a laid back guy who seems to always be single. His sense of humor is sarcastic and he makes me laugh but, until tonight, I’ve never felt any type of spark with him. Whether it’s the Long Island making its way through my bloodstream or the heartbreak that’s consuming me, it doesn’t matter. All I know is that this perfectly attractive and friendly guy has his hands on my hips and his eyes locked with mine. He’s interested in more than just chit-chat or dancing. He wants me.

  “Yeah, I’m available,” I flirt.

  Through my drunken haze, I’m jerked back to my meeting with Kim the psychic. She mentioned the man I would be with in the future. He would have brown hair. She also said it would take time for us to fall in love, to be happy. Overcome with emotion, I tell Evan that I need to use the washroom.

  “Hurry back,” he smiles.

  Running to Morgan, I yank her from Matt’s arms and drag her to the Ladies Room.

  “What the hell is going on, Daphne?” Morgan is tipsy too. This conversation could be a challenge.

  “What if Evan’s the one, Morgan?” I shriek, clasping my hands together.

  “What? You hardly seemed interested in him, Daphne. What are you talking about?”

  “The psychic, Morgan! Remember the psychic? She said I was going to end up with a guy with chestnut hair. His hair is dark brown! That’s chestnut, right?” I ask, staring into space. The Long Islands are disturbing the processing in my fuzzy brain.

  “Yes, Daphne, chestnut is dark brown,” Morgan rolls her eyes. “But, you don’t even like him. You’re just humoring him because you’re upset about Mayson.”

  “But, remember, she said it would take some time for us to be happy!” The other women in the restroom are starting to look annoyed with my noise level but, we’re in a bar, it’s awfully loud and I’ve had way too much to drink, so I honestly do not care.

  “Daphne, I don’t know.” Morgan shakes her head.

  “I feel like this could be a sign.”

  “What kind of sign?” Morgan looks apprehensive.

  “That Evan is the one for me. I need to give him time, that’s all!”

  “Look, Daph. I like Evan. He’s actually a really cool guy. I would love it if you dated him. Hell, I’d be thrilled if you two fell in love. So, do whatever feels right. I’m done defending Mayson, especially since I don’t even like the guy.” I frown at her.

  “Sorry, truth serum talking,” she sighs, shrugging her shoulders, holding up her Long Island. “Look, let’s go back to the guys and have funnn, Daphne.” She slurs, looking up at the bathroom ceiling and stomping her right foot just a bit.

  “Alright, let’s go. But, if Evan and I fall in love, you and I will remember this night as the evening my future changed forever!”

  “If we can remember it,” she giggles.

  Evan locks his hands with mine when I return to the dance floor. Placing them on his shoulders, I intertwine my fingers behind his neck and draw him closer. My lips part and he presses his mouth to mine. Our tongues dance along with our bodies on the dance floor. A little voice inside my head is yelling at the top of her lungs, begging me to stop, to check my cell phone, to call a cab back to my apartment, anything to pry myself off of this eager young man in front of me. But, I have no interest in listening to that voice. Evan is my escape. My intoxication and my yearning for something real, pull me towards him. He’s my antidote for the pain and heartache that is Mayson.

  We stumble into my apartment around 3:00 am, giggling and knocking things over as we make our way to my bedroom.

  “God, Daphne, I’ve wanted you for so long,” Evan mumbles into my neck.

  “You have?” I pull away, looking into his eyes, searching for a sign that he’s the man for me, desperately wishing that Kim had given me more information. I’m still incredibly intoxicated but am doing my best to justify this sudden attraction to a guy I’ve practically ignored for months.

  “Well, yeah. I’ve been pestering Matt to set us up, but he told me the time wasn’t right. I’m so glad things are finally happening with us.” He runs his fingers through my hair and nibbles on my earlobe, before gazing into my eyes. The crease in his brow shows concern. “But, are you sure this is what you want? You’re such a sweet girl. I don’t want to ruin things by moving too fast if that’s not what you’re ready for.”

  “No, I want this, I promise,” I insist, running my fingers through his hair. Evan smiles and scoops me up in his strong, muscular arms and carries me to my bed, placing me gently on top of the covers. He lies down slowly, drinking me in with his eyes. He looks positively elated and I’m instantly wrapped up in his happiness and his desire for me.

  “Do you believe in soul mates?” I ask as Evan slowly opens the first three buttons of my top and slips his hand over the delicate lace of my bra.

  “I’m not sure, Daphne. But, I’m definitely open to the idea.” He strokes the skin of my breasts tenderly as he nibbles and sucks at my neck. His touch is extraordinary and he sends tiny shivers down my spine as his fingers continue to explore my breasts, my stomach, and my sides. Soon, all of my clothes are on the floor and I am pulling at Evan’s pants, urging him to go further. Within a few short moments, we are twisting and turning beneath my cotton sheets. Evan pulls a condom from his wallet and hands it to me with a playful grin.

  “I’m terrible with these things. Will you help me?” He looks so innocent in this moment, so sweet. Could he be the one? Could he be my soul mate?

  I rip the foil package open and carefully roll the condom onto Evan. He groans and pushes me forward onto the bed with a sudden urgency. He enters me and I slowly become lost in his embrace, lost in the beautiful rhythm that our bodies are creating. His movements are fluid, sexy, tantalizing. My skin tingles with every touch of his hands, every twist of his hips and every kiss he plants on my lips.

  The next morning, my room is spinning. I wish I could say that I have no memory of what happened last night, but that would be a blatant lie. I know he’s still here; I can hear him breathing softly just a few inches away. Tears begin to pour from my eyes. What have I done? Somehow, in my drunken state, I thought that Evan was the dark haired man that Kim had predicted. But, deep within my soul, I know this isn’t right. Staring at him as he sleeps, I know I feel nothing for Evan, absolutely no spark, no emotion, nothing. It was simply a mixture of alcohol, desire and very bad decisions that led me to having this man in my bed.

  Mayson promised to call today and I’ll have to decide whether or not to share what I’ve done. But, how can I possibly do that? How can I hurt him more than I already have? I will, most certainly, lose him if he knows about my drunken fling with Evan. The thought of that makes my stomach flip uncontrollably and I feel as if I’m about to vomit.

  Running to the bathroom, I grasp the toilet seat, pushing it away from myself as I heave uncontrollably. Regret spills from my eyes with my tears. Sobbing into the toilet I can think of nothing but Mayson. Eventually I’m able to catch my breath.

  After brushing my teeth, I sit back down on the bathroom floor, not wanting to go back to my room. I’m sure Evan is awake by now and I’m mortified; I don’t want to confront my drunken mistake. Pressing the back of my head against the wall, I look up at the ceiling, wishing for a way out of all of this. How had I allowed things to become such an inconceivable mess?

  A soft knock on the door startles me. “Daphne, are you okay? Can I get you anything?” he asks on the other side of the door. I reach up to open the door slightly and Evan peeks in. He’s dressed in his clothes from last night and the tone of his
voice tells me he’s worried.

  “Hey,” he says softly. His face looks just as handsome as it did last night. If only that was enough.

  “I’m so sorry,” I reply, tears forming in my eyes.

  Evan steps in and sits down next to me, putting his head against the wall. He turns towards me and gently pushes the bangs from my eyes. I feel genuine warmth coming from his deep brown irises.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for, Daphne. If anything, I should be the one who’s apologizing. You were drunk last night, clearly,” he says gesturing towards the toilet.

  I can’t help but giggle at his ability to find humor in this situation. He continues as he pats my knee lightly with his hand, “I feel like maybe I messed up my chances with you and that really sucks. You’re such a great girl and I’ve liked you for a while.”

  “It’s not you, Evan. I’m just really confused right now.”

  “I hear you,” he says gently. His eyes skim over my body from head to toe, as he continues, “Aside from all of the emotional stuff, how are you feeling physically? I always drink a can of coke for a hangover because it settles the stomach. Toast helps, too. Can I make you some toast?”

  Evan is attempting to take care of me. Knowing just how thoughtful, just how considerate this man is multiplies the guilt that continues to build inside of me.

  “No, I’ll be okay. I think I just need to be alone. Is that alright?”

  Evan nods solemnly, “Sure, I understand. I’ll leave my phone number on your counter, you know, in case you need anything.”

  “Thank you so much. Really, I--” tears are building in my eyes and I’m not really sure what to say to this man who wants to comfort me, who wants a chance with me. I’m unable to give him the reassurance he seeks.

  “It’s going to be okay. Really it is,” Evan says.

  Slowly, I muster up enough energy to walk him to the door. When he leaves, relief sweeps through me. Doing my best to push the clouds from my head, I’m determined to think clearly, to keep my relationship with Mayson intact. I refuse to lose him over this. Today, I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right. I’ll tell him that I love him, beg for forgiveness, and tear down my wall. I hope it’s not too late.

  Chapter 15

  Call

  “So, how long has it been, Daph?” Elise asks. We are sitting at a local Chinese restaurant. She holds her chopsticks in anticipation, waiting for me to tell her the last time I heard from Mayson.

  “Two weeks. It’s killing me. I was finally ready, Elise. I was ready to tell him everything that I’ve been feeling about him, about us. I keep sending him text messages and calling his cell, but I get nothing in return. He must be so hurt. I feel like maybe he’s ending this.”

  “No,” Elise responds, shaking her head. “There must be a good reason why you haven’t heard from him. Maybe he’s super busy with work, or he’s not ready to talk. I’m sure you will hear from him soon, Daph. He loves you, for goodness sake!”

  Begrudgingly, I raise my chopsticks towards my mouth, forcing in another bite of beef and broccoli. Just as the food touches my lips, I hear the familiar ring tone of my cell phone. My stomach does a cartwheel as I dig through my purse, searching for the phone, praying that I can find it before he hangs up.

  “Mayson? Mayse?” The pause on the other end of the line makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

  “Daphne, hello. My name is Cecelia Holt. I’m Mayson’s mother.” Why on earth would Mayson’s mother be calling me? I can’t think of any possible reason unless, unless.... “I’ve received all of your messages and texts. Mayson is not ignoring you, Daphne. He has been in a very serious accident.”

  My body grows numb. I cannot feel my fingers, my toes. Panic overwhelms me as I wait for Mrs. Holt to continue, but there is silence.

  “Is he alright? Is Mayson alright?” my voice is cracking with anticipation and worry. Tears well in my eyes and my hands begin to quiver. Elise places her chopsticks on the table, looking at me with questioning concern.

  “No, Daphne. He’s not alright. He’s on life support. We’re hoping that he’ll recover from his injuries, but right now, his outlook is...well, it’s not good.” Her voice cracks and she clears her throat.

  “Can I see him?”

  “Of course, dear, that’s why I called. It’s obvious that you two are close, and I wanted you to have the opportunity to visit him, to know where he is.”

  The walls are closing in all around me as I write down the address of the hospital. My life will never be the same after this phone call. That realization disturbs me to my core. Hanging up with Mrs. Holt, I slump in my chair, staring into space.

  “Daphne? Daph! Honey, what’s going on? You are as pale as a ghost.” I can barely hear Elise. All I can hear is the sound of my heart pumping blood through my veins. Her arms wrap around me as tears flood my eyes, streaming down my face and neck.

  “I could lose him, Elise. I could lose him and he’d never know how I feel about him. He’ll never know that he’s the love of my life. I thought he was ignoring me…but, he wasn’t. Instead, he’s lying helpless in a hospital bed. God knows how long he’s been there.”

  “Mayson? What do you mean? He’s in a hospital bed? Was he hurt?”

  Nodding, I reply, “He was in an accident.”

  We sit in silence for several minutes. Elise slowly strokes my arms with her fingertips, trying desperately to comfort me as best she can.

  “What on earth am I going to do, Elise?” I ask solemnly, feeling completely defeated.

  “You’re getting on the next plane to Denver. And I’m going with you,” Elise replies confidently as she strokes my hair. “You’re not going to lose him, Daph. You’re going to sit by his bed, talk to him and help him wake up. And then, you’re going to spill your guts and get your damn happily ever after.” I nod, wiping away the tears on my cheeks.

  We arrive in Denver the following day. The hotel we’ve booked is only a few blocks away from St. Joseph’s Hospital, so we quickly check in to the hotel and start walking. It’s early afternoon and Elise suggests stopping for lunch, but I can’t. I must get to Mayson. She holds my hand as we ride the elevator to his floor. The nurse directs us towards his room and I feel like I’m swaying through a dream. This can’t actually be happening. The only man I’ve ever loved can’t possibly be here fighting for his life.

  “Deep breaths, Daphne, it’s going to be okay.” Elise says softly, “I’m going to wait in the elevator lobby. You go ahead inside,” she continues as we approach his room. I see Mayson through the glass. His beautiful, sandy brown hair is no more. His head has been shaved and a long cut lingers across the right side of his head. His eyes are closed and he’s hooked up to several machines, IV bags giving him much needed nourishment. He looks like he’s lost a significant amount of weight and I wonder how long he’s been like this. When did this happen? Did it happen while I was so carelessly kissing Evan on the dance floor? Did it happen when I was in bed with Evan, trying desperately to forget Mayson? Or did it happen when I was saying goodbye to Evan awkwardly at my back door wishing I could take it all back? Guilt plagues me and I can think only of the betrayal that I’ve committed. I am a horrible person, a horrible girlfriend. I do not deserve him.

  I scan the room, and I’m relieved to find it empty, for I feel my guilt is a being in and of itself, standing next to me, shouting my betrayals to the world. Mayson is lying lifeless in the small bed. His arms are stretched out at his sides, and tubes are in his mouth. His chest rises and falls in a hypnotic rhythm. Tears pull at my eyes as I stare at him from the foot of the bed. My once strong and vibrant love is now so still, so calm, so broken.

  My legs feel uneasy so I grab an armchair from the corner of the room. Bringing it to the side of the bed, I sit and lock my hand with Mayson’s. I am powerless to stop the tears that pour from my eyes. I am kissing his hand, stroking it and looking at him through swollen eyes.

  “Oh, Mayse. What the
hell happened?” I weep, stroking his thumb, his fingers, his wrist, hoping that somehow, my touch will magically bring him back to me. But, it doesn’t. His chest continues to rise and fall with the machines. The IV continues to drip softly into his veins, and the guilt in my heart continues to haunt me. It is time to confess my sins.

  “I did something horrible, Mayse. I betrayed you in the worst possible way. But, if you can just wake up; just wake up and talk with me about it, I know things can get better. I can be better…for you. Please, Mayse…” I sob uncontrollably into his limp hand.

  “I know that I don’t deserve you. But, the past few months have been the best and worst of my life. They’ve been awful because I’ve been fighting with myself; not wanting to be hurt again. But, I’m done with that, Mayse, because you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You make me feel things that no one else ever has. I’m ready to tear down my wall, Mayse. I’m ready to be with you, here, now. Won’t you please wake up and be with me? Please? I love you, Mayson. Come back to me, please.”

  I’m interrupted by a sharp voice. “Come back to you?” A young woman with long, silky blond hair is staring at me from the doorway. Her piercing blue eyes are angry, stabbing. She cocks her head to the side and hisses, “Who the hell are you? And why on earth are you telling my fiancé that you love him?”

  Chapter 16

  Brynn

  “Your fiancé?” I ask, feeling the sting of her words all over my body. Shocked, confused and alone, I stand up and look down at Mayson. Betrayal is consuming me. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Would he? I feel as if I may be sick. “What are you talking about?”

  “Mayson, that’s who I’m talking about!” she screeches, dramatically pointing down at him. “The man I’m going to marry!” She takes a deep breath, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Who are you? I want an answer!” She crosses the room until she is only inches away from my face. My pulse is out of control and my heart is breaking. Mayson is not mine, he is someone else’s. He is not at all who I think he is.