by Tia Siren
As we entered the room, I prepared myself for what I assumed was going to be a heartfelt goodbye.
"So," she said.
She held an empty glass in her hand and judging from the way she was standing and the glassy look in her eyes, I had the feeling that she had more than a few drinks under her belt.
"So," I countered.
"This is it. The end of an era." She smiled.
"An era? Would you call is that?" I joked.
"Maybe not an era. Did I ever tell you that you were the first doctor I spoke to on my first day?"
"No, you never did. I do remember speaking to you though."
"You do?" she beamed.
"Of course. I remember your hair was a mess. Like really all over the place. And you had vomit down your top.”
"Oh my god," she said, covering her face with one hand while slapping me lightly on the arm with the other. "Yeah, I had just been thrown up on, and I needed a doctor to check the guy out. And there you were."
"Who would have guessed?" I said, patting her lightly on the arm.
"Guessed?" she asked, looking confused.
"That we would still be friends all these years later. You're probably the only nurse that I talk to, honestly. Outside of asking for an IV drip to be placed."
"Really?" she asked, beaming up at me again. It was just then that I noticed that her eyes were actually a little red and bloodshot. If I had to guess, I would say that she had been crying.
"Of course. Didn't you know?"
"Well, truth be told, I was always a little distracted around you," she said, looking down at her feet.
"Is that right? I can be pretty intimidating." I laughed.
"No, it's not that. I didn't know if you ever knew this, but I always had a bit of a crush on you."
"Ah," I said, trying not to smile but unable to help myself. It was always a nice feeling, being told that you were desirable. I just had to make sure that I treaded lightly from there on out. Sandra was obviously drunk, and I didn't want to do or say anything that might lead her on. "I had my suspicions."
"You did?"
"Yeah, of course. To be honest, you weren't exactly subtle."
"Can I ask you something?" she said. As she did, she reached out and put her hand on my arm. I should have pulled it away, but I didn't want to come off as rude or hurt her feelings. So, I left it, aware that it shouldn't have been there.
"You can ask me anything," I said seriously.
"Why didn't you ever make a move? If you knew? Was I not your type? Am I too ugly?"
"Hey. Trust me, it isn't because you're ugly, okay.” She gave me a warm smile. "It's just that, well, we work together. I didn't think it would ever be appropriate. You know?" The real truth was that I just never saw Sandra in that light. But better to offer her a white lie, especially considering the state she was in.
"Really?" she asked, looking up at me with puppy dog eyes.
"Yeah. Really. Trust me, if we didn't work together then who knows?"
Before I had a chance to keep speaking, or before I had a chance to comprehend the look that she was giving me, Sandra lunged forward, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me in for a kiss. I was totally caught off guard by the moment, and as our lips touched, I hated to admit that it took me a few seconds to pull myself from her grasp.
But I did. As soon as I got a hold of my senses, I reached for her arms, unwrapped them, and stepped back.
"Sandra. You know that was inappropriate," I said calmly. I didn't want to sound angry or risk making her feel worse. I really had no idea what to say.
"Why?" she asked. As she spoke, she slurred and stumbled slightly, and I suddenly became very aware of how drunk she actually was.
"Because I'm seeing Kate. If I was single, maybe. But I'm not, so there's no chance."
It was at that moment that I looked past Sandra for the first time, toward the open door to the room. And there, standing at the door watching me and Sandra, was Kate.
Our eyes met and for a moment time seemed to freeze. In that moment, I became only too aware of what it was that Kate thought she was walking in on. There was me and Sandra, alone in a room. We had been drinking. It was my going away party, and we were kissing. The kiss lasted for less than a second, but depending on when she walked in, it may have appeared to have been going for a lot longer than that.
I went to call out, but my voice got caught in my throat. Sandra reached out to touch my arm, and I didn't even swat it away. Really, I didn't even notice it. All I noticed were Kate's eyes. They were red and bloodshot as if she had been crying. I'm sure that she was crying.
Before I got a chance to say or do anything, Kate turned and ran away. Gone again. Once more, I realized that I may have ruined everything.
CHAPTER 34
KATE
It's difficult to describe the anger that I felt in that moment. Like my journal entry had said, such words were difficult to come by and not even worth thinking about. Because that was what I felt, anger. I wasn't sad or upset. Even though I should have been. I was furious.
After I had come across my journal again earlier that day and read the final entry, I had taken a few moments to collect myself. The entry had hit me pretty hard, and I wasn't so sure how I was feeling. It warned me against Liam and ever opening myself up to him, or anyone else, again.
And for a moment there, I honestly considered heading its words. But then I saw a picture of me and Liam. It was just a simple selfie on my phone. I had taken it a few days earlier when we were getting a coffee. There were no thrills behind it, and no declarations of love. It was just a photo with the man that I loved, and when I looked at that photo, I knew that what my journal warned me against was in the past. I knew that Liam had changed, and I could trust him.
Shows what I know.
The reason that I was late for the going away party was a flat tire. A simple, everyday flat tire. My phone was in the car's glove compartment as I attempted to fix it. And there it remained as I waved down a good Samaritan who helped me change the tire.
It wasn't until I was in the car, on my way finally, that I looked at my phone and saw all the missed calls. The funny thing was that seeing those calls actually sent a small flutter through my heart. To me it was a demonstration that Liam was worried about me. That he cared. He was, I assumed, calling to make sure that I was on my way.
I guess that was a lie. He was calling to make sure that I wasn't coming. He wanted to know that I would be nowhere near the party that night so that he could have his way with the busty redhead. And he almost got away with it, too.
The anger that I felt as I stormed from that bar wasn't directed at Liam. I was past that point. The anger was solely for myself. I was angry at myself for having ignored all my instincts and trusting that piece of shit again. I knew I shouldn’t have. I had told myself I shouldn't have. Liana had told me. Hell, I wrote a book about it. Everything was pointing me away from being with Liam again, and I ignored it.
I had only myself to blame. It was a chilling thought and one that I would learn from. No more mistakes.
"Kate, wait!" I heard Liam's voice call out to me as I powered down the street, heading for my car. I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't want to hear whatever excuse he had. I was done. "Seriously, Kate you have to listen to me."
"Why?" I screamed as I turned back to face him. "Why must I listen to you? So you can spin me another lie? So you can talk your way out of it again?"
"No, I'm not trying to talk my way out of anything," he said as he reached me. "What you saw in there wasn't what it looked like."
"Don't, Liam," I said. My anger had subsided. I wasn't going to waste it on him. Not anymore. "Don't treat me like some idiot. I'm not blind. I know what I saw."
"What you saw wasn't anything. She lunged at me and kissed me. Before I knew what was happening, she was on me. I swear. And the second that she was, I pushed her off." He was looking at me with those eyes, those soft, caring eyes th
at I had fallen in love with. He looked so pathetic as he pleaded, and a part of me wanted to forgive him. But I knew I couldn't.
"I don't care what you say, Liam. I don't care if that is what happened."
"You don't care? How can you not care? If you believe me, and you should, because I’m telling the truth. But if you believe me, then how can you blame me for something out of my control?"
"Because it's not just the kiss that I care about!" I was screaming again. "Don't you get it? You know how I feel about Sandra. You have always known, and yet you still put yourself in that position anyway. That's what the problem is."
"That's not fair," he said and for a second I wanted to slap him. If we were alone and there weren't so many people on the street I just may have. “I’m the victim here. Are you saying I was asking for it? Cause that’s fucked up. She forced herself on me. Technically, I was just sexually assaulted. And you’re blaming me for that?”
I threw my hands in front of me, gesturing for him to stop. "I don’t want to hear it, Liam. All I know is that it's not fair that I show up to your going away party to find you in the arms of another woman, kissing her. Tell me how that’s fair to me?"
"I wasn't in the arms of another woman.” He growled in frustration. “But fine, you want to spread blame around on everybody but Sandra? Then where the hell were you? Why weren’t you answering your phone? Why were you late? Maybe if you’d been there, I wouldn’t have just gotten mouth-raped by someone I thought was a friend."
He raised his voice at me, and I knew that he was trying to turn the tables. He was trying to make it look like I was to blame somehow.
"Don't you dare," I seethed. "I had a flat tire. A simple flat tire. Nothing exciting. Nothing scandalous. A flat tire that kept me delayed just long enough for you to slip up."
He looked like he was about to scream at me, and then his shoulders sagged, defeated. "I don’t know what else to say," he said with a sigh. "I've told you what happened. You know I didn't do anything. I mean, if the situation was reversed and some guy forced himself on you, I wouldn’t be pissed at you. I wouldn’t say you were asking for it, or that you should have known better. If you can’t understand that, I just don't know what else to say."
"You don’t have to say anything. And you just don't get it. This is about more than a stupid kiss with Sandra. It's everything. It's years of having my heart stomped on by you. It's all the times I trusted you, only for you to let me down. It's me, never knowing if I can trust you. You want me to give up my life and move away with you? What if this happens again? Then what am I supposed to do?"
"But it won't happen again."
"And the fact that I don't know that, and that I can't believe that, is the problem."
Understanding flickered in his eyes, or if not understanding, then at least acceptance. He took a step back and looked at me sadly.
I turned away from him and got into my car. Liam stayed where he was, watching me. Not trying to stop me. I think he knew that there was no point. He knew that we were finished.
"So that's it then?" he finally asked before I closed the door. He stepped down onto the curb to confront me one last time. "We're over. Just like that?"
"This wasn't a one time mistake, Liam, so don't act like it is. I have forgiven you again and again, and I'm done. I'm sick of having to make excuses for you.”
"But I love you," he said. The words stung like a knife. I knew they were real. There was no malicious or ill intent behind them, just raw emotion. He did love me, and that was what made it so hard.
"I know," I said, turning in to face the front of the car. "I love you, too."
I slammed the door in his face and started the engine. Then I drove away.
As I took off driving down the road, I looked into my rear view mirror at Liam. He stayed standing where he was, watching my car go. I couldn't see from where I was, but I was almost certain that he was crying. I knew that soon, I would be too.
I drove back to my apartment.
Walking through the front door, the place looked empty. Everything was packed into boxes and ready to be sent off. The lease had been signed over to the new tenant, and I would have to be out in a few days. I stumbled to my bed and fell into it. It was a comfortable bed, but like everything else, in a few days’ time, it would no longer belong to me.
My plan was to sleep, but that was never going to happen. The last thing I could do was sleep. It was then, lying in my bed, that I spotted my journal, sticking out of the trashcan. I picked it up, turning to a blank page at the end. Then I picked up a pen and wrote the first entry I had written in over a year.
I had said once that to write of heartache was impossible because the words were beyond me. It was so much easier to write about happiness. Those words flowed from the end of my pen like water from a fountain. But sadness was another matter.
So instead, I chose not to concentrate on the bad, but on the good. With or without Liam, I was turning over a new page in my book. I was leaving my apartment and would most likely be leaving the city. I couldn't stay here, not anymore. Everything reminded me of Liam, and it would be just too hard.
So I wrote instead about where I wanted to go and what I wanted to achieve. I was going to live on a beach. I was going to wake up every morning to the smell of salt water and the sound of crashing waves. I was going to take my morning walks along the beach and have a coffee while looking over the ocean and basking in the warm sun. My life was going to change, no matter what. And as I wrote, I was determined that it would change for the better.
Liam was finally out of the picture. If I knew him, I was sure that I would never hear from him again. And although it was hard, although it sucked beyond measure, I tried to look on the bright side. He had helped me find a new path in life. For that, I was grateful. Maybe one day, in years to come when I was able to think about him without weeping, I might even thank him. But that was for another time.
CHAPTER 35
LIAM
I couldn't remember a time that the apartment had felt so lonely as it did. All the boxes that I had packed had been shipped off. My few suitcases were tucked away in the corner, and everything else had been tossed in the trash. The only thing left in the entire apartment was a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.
One glass was for me. As I topped it up off, I couldn't help but smile. Not for the way that things had gone down, but for the future instead. I had messed up several times, and I’d been given more second chances than any one man truly deserved.
I knew that Kate was never going to take me back. I had to find a way to be okay with that. The only way to make peace with it was to remember that she had made my life better. It was because of her that I was doing what I was doing. I was moving on, like I had always meant to. I would have preferred her at my side, but we can't always get what we want. Instead, I had to take relish in the fact that without her, I wouldn't be where I was, and maybe that was okay.
The second glass was for Clint. As it was my last day, I had invited him over for a few last drinks, to toast goodbye to my apartment and my old life. A new chapter was beginning, and I couldn't think of a better person to close the last one off with.
"The end of an era," Clint said, holding the glass up. "So many good times. A fair few bad ones, and a lot of ones in between. All in all, I'd say that you've done okay."
"You’re always good for a toast," I said, smiling as I clinked my glass with his, taking a long and deep sip of my whiskey.
"You just have to promise that you will invite me out the moment that you're set up.”
"Don't worry," I chuckled. "As soon as I can."
"Because the women there are one of a kind. I'd hate for you to have them all to yourself. You probably wouldn't even know what to do with them."
"Yeah, well to be honest, the women are the last thing on my mind," I said with a sigh. Then I polished off my drink.
"Oh right," Clint said. He then reached out and patted me on the shoulder in an
act of condolence. "How are you feeling? Have you spoken to her yet? Said goodbye maybe?"
I hadn't even tried to contact Kate since that night. I knew her well enough to know that there would be no point. Anything I had to say, she wouldn't want to hear. She knew what had happened and knew that it wasn't my fault. Her reasons for wanting to end it were her own, and I was pretty sure that I wasn't going to change them.
And really, it was all just too hard. I was getting sick and tired of having my hopes raised, only for them to be stomped upon a second later. The last few months had been like a roller coaster, and finally, the ride was over. I wasn't in any mood to get back on either.
Rather than try and get back with her, I preferred to look back at what we had and take from it the good that it had brought. She had changed me, for the better, too. She had taught me how to love again and let me know that it was possible to feel that way for someone. Plus, it was because of her that I was moving on to a new life. At the very least, I had to be grateful for that.
My only concern was that I had hurt her. As always, it wasn't my own pain that worried me, but hers. I just hoped that she was doing okay and that maybe in time, she would come to forgive me.
"Nope, I haven't spoken to her," I finally said. "I think that's a wound best left alone."
"Not even a goodbye?" Clint asked, looking surprised. "I thought that at the very least you might have called her up and said goodbye."
"Why?" I asked, looking at my best friend in a most serious way. "What would be the point? She knows I’m leaving, and she probably doesn't care. We've said all that needs to be said. It's in the hands of fate now."
"Maybe," he responded, sounding unconvinced. "But after all that you two have been through, and it is a lot, I would have thought that you would have wanted to sign off properly. It's like a TV show ending without a grand finale. It's not right."
I laughed off his comment, not wanting him to know how much it actually hit home. Although I would never tell him, he was right. In more ways than one. Although I was fine with the two of us being over, and in a way, I thought that it was for the best, I still felt like there were some things that were left unsaid between us. Some things that needed to be said, for closure.
