About That Night

by Natalie Ward

  “I’m not unhappy,” I shoot back.

  Sarah cocks an eyebrow at me that tells me she knows I’m lying.

  “I’m not,” I offer weakly. “Most of the time anyway.”

  “Emma,” she says firmly. “I don’t pretend to understand how much shit you have to deal with at work, okay? But I do want to. I want to get what it is that drives you crazy about your job. What you love and what makes you hurt as much as I know you do.”

  I shake my head, my eyes falling to my hands again. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  I take a deep breath, wondering how it is that it’s taken us this long to have this conversation. How Nick could get me to say it all after knowing me for only a couple of hours, but for Sarah and me it’s taken years? Is it that we somehow knew what the other was feeling or was it because I thought I was safe confessing these things to someone I never thought I’d see again?

  “Because,” I say, finally lifting my head. “Me going through it is bad enough. I don’t want you to have to as well.”

  “Oh, Em,” Sarah says, standing and walking towards me. She pulls me up off the bed and into her arms, hugging me for the first time in what feels like forever. I feel her arms wrap around me, pulling me close and despite how gross I am I find myself hugging her back.

  I never realised how much I missed this, missed her.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, my eyes closing as they fill with tears for the second time in a week.

  “I’m sorry too,” she replies, her arms tightening. “And for the record, no matter how bad it is, I’m always here for you. I’m always here to listen to you bitch about your shitty day and your crazy job.”

  “Even when it involves not being able to save someone younger than us?” I mumble into her shoulder.

  Her arms tighten. “Especially when it involves that.”

  I don’t know how long we stand here hugging for, but it seems that with every passing minute, all of the frustrations and fights we’ve had, somehow dissolve away. I know it’s not going to be as easy as this, but I also know it’s a first step in the right direction and right now, I’ll take that.

  “So, I’m still your bridesmaid?” I ask, not daring to look as I wait for her answer.

  Sarah pulls back, waits for me to meet her stare. “You absolutely are,” she says, smiling even as the tears fall down her cheeks. “If you still want to be of course?”

  I nod. “I do, Sarah, really.”

  “Good,” she says, pulling me into another hug.

  My phone starts to ring now and just as I’m about to pull away and tell Sarah that I really need to get this and I promise I’ll explain why, I feel her arms fall away, watch as she steps back, her eyes on something behind me as she says, “Um, Emma?”

  “Yeah?” I nervously ask.

  “You care to explain to me what this is all about?”

  My eyes follow the line of her now outstretched arm, the finger that is pointing to the side table beside my bed. I feel my cheeks flush at what I know she’s looking at, at the bigger explanation I’m now going to have to offer concerning the empty condom wrappers that litter the surface.

  Not for the first time in my life have I wished I wasn’t so hopeless about cleaning my room.

  I bite my bottom lip as she turns to face me, an unexpected smile on her face as she says, “You’re seeing someone?”

  I shrug, unable to answer that in a way that makes sense. Mostly because I’m not entirely sure what Nick and I are doing just yet.

  “Since when?” she asks, the smile widening.

  It surprises me, her reaction. I’d expected anger at yet another secret I was hiding from her, but instead I’m getting surprise…maybe a little excitement too.

  “That night?” I offer, even though I’m not exactly sure if that’s really true.

  “Who?” she asks, confused.

  “Um…” I say, stalling as my eyes flick to my now silent phone and I try to work out how to explain this to her. “Maybe I should just show you?” I offer.

  “You mean…” She trails off, as though not quite understanding what I’m trying to say.

  “Do you want to meet him?” I ask, wondering if I’m going to regret this.

  “Ah, yeah!” she says excitedly.

  I nod, sure that I will. “Okay, just give me a second to get changed.”

  ~ Nick

  “Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Tony asks for what feels like the millionth time.

  I shake my head as I once more dial Emma’s number and lift the phone to my ear. It’s been over two hours since she sent me a text telling me she was coming down to the bar. Even counting the fact that she had to go home and get changed first, it shouldn’t take this long.

  Once again though, her phone goes to voicemail. This time I don’t bother leaving her a message. She hasn’t responded to any of my earlier text messages and the last call I made went unanswered too. At this stage, what’s the fucking point?

  But as much as I might be pissed off, I am starting to get worried about what might have happened to her. If maybe she’s changed her mind about all of this or worse still, something bad has happened to her. Something I don’t even want to imagine.

  “Why don’t you go and find out where she is?” Tony asks.

  “What?” I ask, my head snapping up.

  “Emma,” he says, gesturing to my phone. “You’re obviously trying to reach her, so just go.”

  I shake my head as I look around the bar. As tempting as it is, I can’t just bail on him in the middle of a busy night. I’m already being an arsehole to the customers that are here, I don’t need to leave and make everything worse.

  But there’s a part of me that’s tempted. Tempted to walk out the door and haul arse over to her place to find out where the hell she is.

  “No,” I finally say, sliding my phone into my pocket and moving to serve a customer.

  I can feel Tony staring at me, watching because I know he doesn’t believe a word I’m saying and he’s trying to think of a reason, an excuse, to get me out the door. I ignore him, busying myself with the people that have come to my bar for a night out.

  But thirty minutes later, I’m pulling my phone from my back pocket again; checking for a message I know is not going to be there.

  “Shit, if you’re not going to go over there,” Tony says. “At least go and take a break, try calling her again or something,” he adds, gesturing to my office.

  I open my mouth to speak, but Tony shakes his head once, indicating that this is not up for discussion. I nod before walking back to my office, hoping that I can come up with some magical way to contact her.

  I sink into the chair at my desk, pulling open the bottom drawer and reaching for the bottle of scotch I put in there after I managed to drink its really expensive predecessor a couple of weeks ago.

  I pour a generous amount, taking a long sip as I sit back, my eyes on the ceiling wondering what’s really happened that has stopped Emma from showing up tonight.

  Maybe she got held up at work? Some emergency as she was walking out the door that meant she couldn’t leave, much less answer her phone. Given everything I know about her commitment to her job, this is a definite possibility.

  Then there’s the other possibility. The one I’m not that keen on but that I also know is a real probability. The one where she’s changed her mind about this thing between us and has bailed on me. Bailed without even bothering to offer an explanation. But I don’t think that’s the kind of person she is. As scared as I know she is about all of this, I don’t think she would do something like that. Besides, I know where she lives and works now, so bailing isn’t as easy as she might think it is.

  Which leaves the third and most definitely worst possibility. Something’s happened to her on her way over here. My eyes close as my mind conjures up every worse case scenario it can possibly imagine. Images and scenes, mixed with memories I don’t want to think about, flash through m
y head causing my eyes to snap open just to make them stop.

  As I open my eyes they land on the photo on my desk. The photo of a happier time but which I now know was a prelude to all the shit that came after. The shit that not only became the worst days of my life, but days I have no desire to ever relive.

  “Fuck it,” I say, throwing back the rest of my scotch as I push out of my chair, grabbing my jacket from the back of the couch.

  I slide it on, knowing there’s no way I’m going to be able to keep working as long as Emma isn’t here. As shitty as it is of me to leave Tony, at this point I don’t have a choice. I have to go and find out what’s happened to her.

  ~ Emma

  “Wait, you met this guy here?” Sarah asks as we reach Nick’s bar. I nod, biting my lip as I hold the door open for her. “He was a customer that night?”

  I shake my head; still unable to give voice to the guy I’ve offered to introduce her to but seemingly can’t bring myself to talk about.

  “So what?” she says, pausing as she’s halfway through the door. “He works here, the bartender?”

  I nod now, blushing a little as Sarah smiles at me before turning and walking inside. The guy I now know as Tony is working the bar tonight, along with a girl I don’t recognise. I glance around the room, searching, but Nick is nowhere in sight.

  Sarah grabs my hand as she all but marches us up to the bar and squeezes us in between two other customers so we are standing right in front of Tony. She grins at him, seemingly waiting for him to notice us. When he finally does, her smile widens and I watch as Tony takes this as a come on and immediately starts flirting.

  “Hey there, beautiful,” he says, flicking a towel over his shoulder as he props a hip against the bar.

  Sarah blinks once in confusion before turning to me as I stand squashed against her. Tony’s eyes move to mine and almost immediately his smile vanishes.

  “Fuck me, it’s about time you showed up,” he says, turning and putting both hands on the bar as he leans towards me. “Where the…”

  “Whoa, now wait a second,” Sarah says, immediately cutting him off. “How dare you speak to her like that.”

  Tony glances at her before turning back to face me. “Where the hell have you been, Emma?” he asks, ignoring Sarah.

  “Hey!” Sarah says reaching out and grabbing Tony’s chin as she turns his face back to hers. “Watch it, mister,” she says and I can practically feel her bristling beside me. “She’s your…your…” she stops, glancing at me as though she isn’t quite sure how to describe what I am. “Well, she’s not your bloody slave you know, or your property, even if you are shagging her.”

  My face flushes in embarrassment as Tony’s breaks into a wide grin, the laugh falling from his mouth as he pulls back from Sarah’s grip. “Trust me, sweetheart,” he says. “It’s not me who’s shagging her,” he adds, pointing at me. “And it’s not me who’s been slowly losing his shit about where she’s been tonight either. You, Emma,” he says more seriously as he turns to look at me now. “You have some explaining to do.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Sarah asks, confused. She looks from Tony, to me, and then back again. Either she doesn’t remember Nick from the night she was in here or she can’t possibly imagine that he’d be the one I’m sleeping with.

  “Where is he?” I ask.

  Tony’s face softens. “In his office,” he says, offering me a smile. “Go talk to him, I’ll look after your friend.”

  I nod, grateful as I turn to Sarah and tell her I’ll be back in a second. Tony chuckles at my explanation as though it’s not even close to being true. As I walk back towards his office, a part of me wonders what I’m going to find in there. I know I’ve been busy for most of the week, but I’m here now, surely that’s got to count for something.

  The corridor to the back is only dimly lit and as I turn to walk into Nick’s office, the door opens and he comes rushing out, the two of us crashing together.

  “Shit, sorry, are you…” Nick stops, his eyes locking onto mine as his hands grip my arms, his fingers digging into me. “Jesus, Emma,” he breathes out, his eyes roving all over my body as he pulls me back into his office and slams the door shut behind us.

  “Hey,” I say, trying to take a step back.

  “Hey?” he repeats back to me, the concern apparently gone and replaced by something far worse now. “‘Hey?’ That’s all you can say to me?”

  I look up at him, confused. “What? What are you talking about?”

  It’s Nick who steps back from me now, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares down at me. I’m suddenly grateful for the closed door to his office, for that fact that Sarah doesn’t have to see this.

  “You texted me over two hours ago, Emma,” he says. “Over two hours ago you texted to say you were on your way.” He stops, as though waiting for me to say something. When I don’t, he shakes his head before continuing. “And then nothing. Radio fucking silence while I’m stuck here wondering what the fuck has happened to you?”

  I swallow, not quite getting why he’s so worked up about this. “I got held up,” I say, shrugging. “I’m sorry, I sent you a text.”

  Nick lets out a half laugh, but there’s no humour in it. “You got held up?” he says, incredulously. “And what text?”

  “I sent it maybe five minutes ago,” I say.

  “Well I didn’t get it,” Nick says, staring at me. “So I’ve had no idea if you were okay or what the hell was going on.”

  “Of course I’m okay,” I say. “And you really didn’t get the text?” I pull my phone from my bag but as soon as I open it, I can see the message, still sitting there, waiting to be sent. Shit.

  “Jesus, Emma,” he says, throwing his arms up in annoyance or frustration as he turns away from me.

  I watch as he runs rough hands through his hair, his fingers ripping the band that holds it all back out before twisting it back in place. I can’t see his face anymore, but his body language is screaming barely contained anger. I take a cautious step towards him, unsure about what I’m supposed to do here. Confused as to why he’s overreacting to this.

  “Nick,” I say, placing a tentative hand on his back. He stiffens beneath me and I immediately drop my hand. “I’m sorry, okay? I honestly thought my text had gone through. I see now it hasn’t, but I really don’t get what’s going on here.”

  I watch as his hands drop to his sides, his head falling. He doesn’t turn around and the longer I’m forced to stare at his back, the more I’m starting to wonder if this isn’t a huge mistake. That despite everything he said to me that first morning, in only a week we’ve already hit our first roadblock and it’s turning into a total disaster. A disaster that can only mean the end, just like every other time I’ve tried to do this.

  “You can’t text and tell me you’re on your way,” he finally says, the words barely audible against the background music that’s leaking in from the bar. “You can’t text and say that and then take two fucking hours to actually get here.” He finally turns, a look that I can’t read on his face as his eyes meet mine.

  “I thought I’d texted you again,” I whisper, knowing it doesn’t matter because he never received it.

  “I was worried about you, Emma,” he says, ignoring my words as he reaches for my hand. “I didn’t know if something had happened to you or...”

  His fingers thread through mine, a tiny sliver of heat shooting up my arm, even despite all the animosity between us. I tighten my hand in his, taking a tiny step closer.

  “You were worried about me?” I ask.

  “Fuck, of course I was, Emma,” he breathes out, closing the gap as he crashes his mouth against mine. The kiss is hard and intense and feels like it has nothing to do with the fact that it’s been almost a week since we’ve seen each other and everything to do with whatever it is that’s going on with him tonight.

  “You can’t do that to me, Em,” he whispers, his voice softer as he pulls back a
little. A hand slides onto my cheek, cupping my jaw as he tilts my face to his. “You can’t just let me sit here and wonder what’s happened to you. I…I’m not…” He pauses, as though he doesn’t know what he wants to say. “I’m not trying to control you, okay, that’s not what this is about. But I can’t be here and be worried about wherever you are, especially when I haven’t heard from you for hours after… You gotta let me know, okay…seriously.”

  I stare up him, at the warring emotions on his face that seem to come from a place far darker than the one we are currently in. Why is he reacting like this? Why is this all such a big deal to him?

  “Please,” he says, pulling away again as he walks over to his desk and sits on the corner. “Please just let me know next time, okay?”

  I watch him; watch as his fingers absently play with the photo on his desk, straightening it even though it’s not out of place. Nick stares back at me, oblivious to what he’s doing. But as I watch him, watch the anguish as it slowly drains from his face, it hits me, why he reacted like this.

  I smile at him, stepping closer until I’m standing between his legs. His eyes never leave mine, even as I still his hand, remove it from the picture and lift it to my lips.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to his palm. “This…this is all new to me, remember? I told you I’m not good at it. But I promise,” I add, pressing a kiss to his lips now. “I promise next time I’ll let you know when I’m running late.”

  Nick nods, not saying another word as he pulls me against him and kisses me. It’s different this time, still intense but in a softer way, as though he’s apologising for his reaction. A reaction I didn’t understand at first, but which I now do. As his arms slide around my waist, pulling me closer, I can’t help but wonder what happened to her.

  What happened to Amy to cause Nick this much grief?

  ~ Nick

  “Guys?” comes a strange voice, muffled through the door. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Tony really could use a hand out here.”