The Reason

by Jen Andrews

  “Come drink a margarita with me?” I asked and pulled him through the door, not waiting for him to answer. I didn’t want my birthday to be over yet, not until midnight anyway. Then I didn’t have a choice.

  We climbed the stairs to the landing, where he unlocked the door to my apartment. “Wait a sec,” I said as I stepped over and knocked on Will and Justin’s door.

  Justin answered the door, looking tired and wearing only pajama pants. He smiled when he saw Andy and me together outside his door. “Thank you for helping make this the best birthday ever,” I mumbled as I hugged him. He hugged me back, and I felt another set of arms around me. It was Will, joining our hug.

  “I love you guys,” I told them. “Want to come join us for a margarita?” They did and followed us next door.

  I set my iPod on shuffle and mixed our drinks. We sat on the couch talking and drinking our margaritas, until a song by Frank Sinatra came on, and Will decided it was time to dance.

  He stood up and bowed in front of me. “My lady, a birthday dance?” he asked politely, holding his hand out to me. I took his hand, and he helped me up from the couch to dance with him.

  I sort of knew how to dance to that type of music, so I didn’t make a complete ass out of myself. I was no Ginger Rogers, but of course, Will was a natural. Halfway through the song, I gave up trying to keep up with him, and pulled Justin off the couch so he would go dance with Will.

  They were adorable dancing barefoot in their flannel pajama bottoms.

  After the song ended, we did some tequila shots. I was the only one who was drunk, but they were all catching up to me. It felt like the last time the four of us had gotten together for dinner and drinks. The guys did a couple more shots after I decided to quit drinking, so I wouldn’t wake up with a hangover. I was having a great time with Andy and my friends.

  “Harvest Moon” by Neil Young came on, and the boys went back out to the living room to dance. “Dance with me?” I asked Andy as I held my hand out to him.

  He nodded hesitantly, took my hand, and we joined Will and Justin on the makeshift dance floor. The song was upbeat enough for us to dance without it feeling awkward since we were doing the just friends thing.

  We swayed back and forth to the beat of the music, and Andy very gracefully spun me around a few times, surprising me with his dancing skills. He was really good.

  “You really know how to dance, don’t you?” I asked inquisitively.

  He spun me out to the end of his arm, and then spun me back in, so I was leaning on his chest; one of my arms was behind his back, and my other hand was in his.

  “Yeah,” he answered, appearing slightly embarrassed. “My mum made my sister and I take lessons when we were young.”

  I imagined a smaller, younger version of him, dancing at his mother’s insistence. It made me sad for him, and all he had lost.

  “Dark Roman Wine” by Snow Patrol came on, and I tightened my hold on Andy. We slowed our dancing down to match the tempo of the new song.

  “We hate to be party poopers on your birthday,” Will said, “but it’s been a long week. We’re gonna head home.”

  We told them goodbye and continued dancing. We danced until the song ended and another slow Snow Patrol song came on, “An Olive Grove Facing the Sea.” The lyrics were brilliant, and they forced me to think about what was happening between Andy and me.

  I realized the drinks I consumed had completely obliterated all of my defenses, but I wasn’t going to fight it. I wanted to savor the moment of the two of us, dancing in my apartment, on my birthday.

  My walls were down. I was tired of being weak, and tired of being alone. The perfect man was right there with me, and I was being a complete idiot by pushing him away. Right then, I knew without a doubt, I was falling in love with him. I wanted to tell him, but I was terrified.

  As the song played, I felt him tighten his hold on me. I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my cheek on his broad chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, and breathed him in, letting a tear escape down my cheek. While we slowly swayed, I decided to give in and let go of everything in my head, and not worry about the consequences anymore. I wanted to live in the moment so I made the first move.

  My feet stopped shuffling and I took a small step away from Andy. I gazed up at him, and he had a confused expression on his face as he stared back down at me. I placed my palms on his chest while we continued to watch each other. My breath quickened as Andy’s demeanor changed from semi-relaxed to tense. I slid my right hand up his chest, and rested my palm on his stubbly jaw.

  The way he was looking at me, like he wanted to devour me on the spot, made me want to let him do it. His eyes snapped shut as my hand made its way back down to his chest. He took in a deep breath and let it out when I unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and began on the next button down.

  “Zoey, I need to go,” he said abruptly, taking my hands in his and backing away from me.

  “What?” I asked. “Why?” I wanted him to stay so I could tell him how I felt.

  He moved further away from me and buttoned his shirt. “Because,” he said with so much frustration and confusion in his voice, I knew he was hurting too. “This is getting too intense, and this fucking song...”

  Now I was confused. “I thought you wanted me?”

  He took a step back. “I do, Zoey,” he admitted. “You have no idea how much. But—”

  I cut him off and stared up at him. “But what?”

  He shook his head and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, wetting it. “You’ve had a bit to drink tonight, and when tomorrow comes, I know you’re going to shut me out again.”

  I was speechless. He was probably right, but I didn’t want him to be right. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, letting my arms fall to my sides in defeat.

  Leaving him standing there, I turned and made my way toward my bedroom.

  “Zoey, stop,” he called after me. “Please, come back and talk to me.”

  He was right, so I kept walking away. As soon as I sobered up and realized what I was thinking, I would regret it. But I didn’t want to regret it. I hated the fact that I was hurting him. I was being selfish and was so confused.

  As I walked through my bedroom door, I pulled my pretty dress off over my head and tossed it onto the floor. My mind told me that I needed to sleep it off and forget about everything that just transpired between us.

  I pulled a drawer open on my dresser, and dug around trying to find something to wear to bed.

  “Zoey?” Andy spoke from the doorway of my bedroom. I didn’t even bother covering up the bra and panties I was wearing, because I was beyond caring about anything at that moment.

  “You’re right, Andy,” I choked out without even looking at him because I was too ashamed of my behavior. “I’m sorry for being selfish and leading you on. I’ve had too much to drink tonight, and all the feelings I have for you…they are real, but I know tomorrow I will be back to my normal, miserable self. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

  Yes, that was me shutting him out again. I knew it, and he knew it. Finally, I glanced in his direction and could barely see him through the tears in my eyes.

  “Fuck this!” he muttered angrily. A minute later, I heard my front door slam. He left without saying goodbye, and he was mad.

  Unable to hold my emotions in any longer, in one rash decision, I swept everything off the top of my dresser with my hands, hurling it all against the wall. The glass saucer that sat under my orchid plant shattered all over my floor. My orchid plant broke in half and littered the contents of the pot all over me and the floor.

  I wrapped my arms around myself and dropped to my knees, crying, my entire body shook from the wracking sobs that emanated from deep within me. So there I sat, half-naked, on the floor, covered in bits of plant, and crying like a fucking baby. On my fucking birthday.

  I’d officially hit rock bottom, and it hurt like a bitch.

  My phone pinged, so I picked it up from where it lande
d on the floor, amongst broken picture frames and my demolished seashell collection. It was a text from Andy.

  I’m sorry about everything. I don’t know how else to get through to you. I want you to say yes to me. I know what a lyric addict you are, so listen to them. Just Say Yes. Please.

  Why was it, in the brief time I’d known him, he got me like nobody else did? He knew how to talk to me. Who else would tell me to listen to the words to a fucking song to make me see what he wanted to say to me, but he couldn’t because I kept pushing him away?

  Nobody, because they didn’t get how my brain worked, but he did…in such a short time, he understood me like no one else ever had.

  I picked myself up off the floor and cleaned up the mess I’d made. It was time for me to clean up my life next. I listened to the song he wanted me to, and he was right to send it to me, because the lyrics were perfect. It was simple. I knew it was. I wanted to say yes to him.

  After I fell into bed, I laid there with “Just Say Yes” playing on repeat and thought about how miserable I was. Over the last several months, I had systematically pushed everyone I loved away. My family and my friends were all I had, and I’d been treating them like shit.

  Now someone new and wonderful had come into my life who made me feel worthy and special, and I did the exact same thing to him. What the fuck is wrong with me?

  All I was doing was living in the past, exactly like my dad said. I needed to get my shit together before I lost Andy and myself completely. I was already too close to it as it was. I rolled over, gave Andy’s apartment one last glance, and for the first time in years, I cried myself to sleep.

  After a very restless night, I woke after ten the next morning. Even though I drank so much, I remembered everything that had happened the previous night. Nothing changed in my feelings toward Andy. I loved him. I had no doubt.

  All I wanted to do right then was fade away into oblivion.

  I absolutely hated myself. I hated who I’d become and hated myself for the pain I’d been causing my family, friends, and myself. I was being selfish and needed help, so I was giving myself an intervention before I chickened out. I was being an idiot, and I knew it.

  The only way I could do that was to leave, so I could get my life together and come back to him, ready for a relationship. I could not lose him. No, I would not lose him. Not over this.

  I had no plan for where I would go...I just needed to go. After pulling my suitcase out of my closet and tossing it onto my bed, I filled it with clothes, and then got ready to leave. I packed my iPod, my laptop, and my purse, and then headed down to my car.

  The sight of Andy’s truck in the parking lot was a reminder of how horribly things had ended between us the night before. Still, I pushed on. I needed to stay focused.

  When I stepped up to my car, I found it covered with the red roses I had tossed into the trash the previous day. What the fuck? The rose petals had been ripped from the stems, so it looked like my white car was covered with giant droplets of blood. It was creepy.

  Upon closer examination, I noticed my car also had two flat tires. I walked around to the driver’s side, and those tires were flat too.

  Rob had slashed all the tires on my car. I knew he did it. He must have been watching when I threw the roses away, otherwise he wouldn’t have known where they were or that I’d even trashed them. It made me feel uneasy, thinking he might be watching me, and I wondered how often he did it.

  Apparently, I wasn’t going anywhere right away. I was furious and refused to take his shit anymore. I was to the point of being so mad and frustrated, that all I wanted to do was cry. I held it in and let my anger push back the tears.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, then pulled my suitcase over to the shop and let myself in the back door. I dropped my belongings off in the office, went into the shop, and found a floor jack with super low clearance so it would fit under my car with four flat tires.

  The jack was heavy for me, but my adrenaline was pumping, so I dragged it out the back door and over to my car. I went back inside the shop, found four jack stands, and had to carry them out two at a time, but I got them all out to my car too.

  I turned on the air compressor inside the shop and found enough air hoses to hook together to get an air gun out to my car so I could take off the tires. If my dad taught me one thing to do well, it was to change a fucking tire.

  There was no way he was going to let me slide through life, not knowing how to change a tire or the oil in my own car. I could use any piece of equipment inside the shop. Not as well as my brothers, but in a pinch, I could do it if I needed.

  I used the floor jack to lift my car, and carefully positioned the jack stands under the front. Once I was satisfied with their placement, I released the floor jack, slowly lowering my car onto the stands. I dragged the jack around to the back of my Audi and did the same thing.

  I was on a fucking mission.

  Once I jacked all four tires up off the ground, I took them all off my car using the air gun. My adrenaline was pumping like crazy and it was exhilarating. I took the floor jack and the air gun back inside, then picked up my purse and the keys to the shop truck.

  I pulled the truck in next to my Audi, dropped the tailgate, and lifted my tires into the bed of the truck. At that point, I was filthy dirty, covered to my elbows in brake dust and road grime, and I could care less. I closed the tailgate, hopped in the truck, and left.

  I drove to our friend, Tom’s, tire shop, where Tom put four new tires on my wheels. He seemed concerned about the condition of my tires, but he didn’t ask what happened. I think he could tell by my mood, not to ask. I paid with my credit card and drove back to the shop, where I pulled alongside my car and took the tires out of the truck.

  When I looked at my car, I saw that all the roses were gone. What the…? I turned back to the shop to go get the floor jack and air gun again.

  Andy was coming down the stairs from his apartment. “Rob?” he asked as he motioned to my car.

  “Good guess,” I muttered as I stalked past him to the shop. I was still pissed and needed to keep my momentum going.

  Andy was waiting for me when I went back outside. “Do you want some help?” he asked hesitantly.

  I sighed loudly. “No, thank you. I am perfectly capable of doing it myself.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, I saw that earlier.”

  I looked over at him, and he was smirking at me. I glared back. “What?” I growled.

  “Oh nothing,” he replied with a breath-stealing grin on his face. “You’re kind of hot when you’re working on your car all pissed off.” When my eyes widened in surprise, he laughed and put his hand up. “Let me rephrase that. You’re hot all the time, but when you’re mad, dirty, and doing what you’re doing… it intensifies it.”

  Seriously? I shot him an irritated glare, and he freaking winked at me. I tried to be annoyed with him for saying it, but it was funny, so I laughed instead.

  “Thanks a lot, smartass.”

  He smiled as he sat on the tailgate of the shop truck with his arms crossed over his chest, watching me put the tires back on my car, not offering again to help. I appreciated it. It was almost as if he wanted me to know he was there if I needed help, but I was going to have to ask him for it if I did.

  Andy was the only person that understood me well enough to know I needed to do it on my own. Anyone else would have pushed me aside and done it for me.

  Yes, I was trying to prove to myself that I could get over what Rob did to my car. Yes, it had cost me several hundred dollars for new tires, but I had taken control of the situation. I was not going to let him get to me anymore. I was done with his shit.

  When my tires were back on my car, I lowered it to the ground and dragged everything I took outside, back into the shop. I washed my hands and arms, then collected my suitcase from the office and wheeled it out to my car.

  Andy jumped off the tailgate, surprised to see me with my suitcase. “Where are you g
oing?”

  “I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “Just…away.” I popped the trunk of my car open and hurled my suitcase inside.

  “Are you leaving because of me?” he asked dismally.

  “No, I’m leaving because of me.” I was being honest with him. Everything was my fault, and I needed to fix it. He simply made me realize how fucked up I truly was and how I didn’t want to be anymore.

  “Please don’t go.” He walked over to me. He was too close so I backed away a step.

  “I need to. I can’t be like this anymore.” He reached out for me, and I took another step back. I couldn’t let him touch me. If he did, I would lose my momentum.

  “When are you coming back?” he asked as he shoved his hands into his front pockets.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. When I feel better, I guess.”

  He took another step forward, so I took another step back. I was pressed against my car and unable to back up any farther. I could feel the desperation and concern radiating off him in waves.

  “Thank you for cleaning off my car,” I said, changing the subject. When he nodded, I could see him waging a war inside himself. He was about to lose it.

  Andy took another step closer, so he was only inches away from me. He pulled his hands from his pockets, and rested them on the trunk of my car, one on either side of me. He had me pinned.

  “What are you do—” I started to say, and the next thing I knew, his hands were in my hair and his lips were on mine. My mind went completely vacant as I surrendered to him. My lips parted, inviting him in. He slipped his tongue inside my mouth, and his stubble tickled my lips.

  My tongue instinctively met his as our kiss began to ignite a fire inside me that Rob had extinguished long ago. Andy moaned quietly as he knotted his fingers firmly in my hair. I pulled him as close as I could get him, and before I knew it, he was reaching down, gripping me behind my knees, and lifting me onto the trunk of my car.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, as he pressed himself between my thighs and slipped his hands up the back of my shirt to touch my bare skin.