Lost Angel (The List #1)

by N. K. Love

  After some general chitchat about what we’ve been up to over the last few days, Mike goes to make us a drink. I wander around the room that once was ours and the only thing that stands out is that he’s removed our wedding photo that was in an antique frame on the side unit. I think I would have done the same if it were me living here instead of him. I’ve housed all my material marital memories, like photos and keepsakes in a couple of boxes labelled ‘memories’. It’ll probably end up in storage when I eventually buy a place. My mind drifts off, wondering what frame of mind I will be in when I next decide to dust off those boxes and delve in, reminiscing—

  As I contemplate, I idly take my jacket off and drape it over the back of the sofa. Mike reappears with our drinks just as I’m flicking my hair back into place and I catch him looking me up and down. He reverts back to my face after lingering on my thighs and Miss Fierce is trying to high-five Miss Innocent who’s blushing shyly. “Beth, I’m sorry if this crossing any sort of line but you look lovely! Not that I expected you to have let yourself go or anything but yeah, something is… different… Are you happy? I mean, you do look happy… Are you?”

  I’m pleasantly surprised and take a cheeky second to enjoy the rare occasion of witnessing Mike getting uncharacteristically flustered, especially considering I caused it. He is not one for dishing out compliments, always leaving me to draw my own conclusions. I didn’t mind because it just made me want to try harder for his affection. But after harnessing the confidence boost last night’s male attention has given me, I realised something. It’s super important that the person you love tells you and shows you how you make them feel. I haven’t seen Mike react like this to me for years and it gives me a warm buzz.

  “Yes Mike, I am happy. I strangely feel like this is my second chance, you know? I’m gonna take some time out to enjoy life… Not that I didn’t enjoy my life with you… I didn’t mean that. I just mean I’m going to concentrate on me for bit.” I hope that didn’t sound hurtful. “How about you, how are you feeling? I was thinking that it’d be harder living here, with all our history—” I drift off, aware that I’ve started waffling.

  “Yeah, it’s been tough at times but I bought a new bed… That helped!” Grinning widely he sips his cup of tea.

  “New bed? Gosh I didn’t even think about that, yeah I would have totally done the same thing.” I feel quite inconsiderate for not taking a little more time to imagine things from his perspective. Although, Mike is so self-assured and there’s not an ounce of regret written on his face, which I find comfort in.

  “Beth, those memories we made here were all happy ones so it’s not difficult to be around them, honestly.” What a lovely thing to say. His words appear heartfelt and I feel lighter by the minute. “Plus you know what my schedule is like; I’m hardly here anyway.”

  Once I finish my coffee Mike brings in a small boxes he’s filled with things he’d come across like CDs and books. There’s also a bag of clothes from the laundry that he’d washed. We briefly discussed the separation and the fact that we need to be separated for two years before we can file our petition for divorce. Then it’ll be based on the grounds of ‘The parties to the marriage have lived apart for a continuous period of a least two years immediately preceding the presentation of the petition and the Respondent consents to a decree/order being granted.’

  I joke that it’d be easier for one of us to admit adultery or unreasonable behaviour and he almost chokes on his chewing gum. After reassuring him that it was just a joke in poor taste – somebody needs a chill pill – he scoffs something about me being in such a hurry to get rid of him.

  I rein the conversation back on track by discussing our finances and Mike reiterates that he plans to give me half the value of the house plus extra for furnishing my new place. He is going to book an appointment with our mortgage broker to get the wheels in motion for a remortgage that’ll free up enough equity and funds to effectively pay me off.

  Other than what’s left on the mortgage we didn’t have any other loans or credit cards and we have roughly the same amount in our individual savings accounts. So all in all, it’s pretty straight forward—but I would genuinely prefer not to have it hanging over us for two years.

  Why isn’t ‘incompatibility’ strong enough grounds to warrant immediate proceedings?

  After wrapping up my visit, Mike carries my box to the car at which point I randomly remember my drunken text to him asking whether he’d removed his wedding ring. He still hadn’t replied. I glance down at his hand and find my answer. It’s gone, as are any remaining reservations as to whether or not I should do the same. I mentally kick myself, knowing I should have listened to Willow. I also wonder whether he bothered to clock that mine is still on.

  9:08pm

  Before I pull away, I order a taxi to take me to Stryders in forty-five minutes. When I get home, I take the bag and box into my bedroom and grab a small clutch handbag from the wardrobe. I freshen up my lipstick, have another dose of deodorant and perfume and comb my hair. The bag comfortably fits my essentials; lippy, mirror, breath mints, purse, keys and mobile phone. I check the time and quickly go to the kitchen for a celebratory shot of vodka. I feel like I’ve jumped another hurdle by visiting Mike for the first time and escaping with my mind distinctively unfucked and intact, which is great. I hear the taxi driver pap their horn outside and I can’t wait to get to the bar.

  10:19pm

  Stryders is busy by now but I spot Willow behind the bar straight away. She looks the part, so comfortable, serving customers whilst chatting, smiling, singing, dancing. She’s working on the main bar that stretches almost the entire length of the back wall directly opposite the entrance. The room is rectangular with the shorter sides being to the left and right when you walk in. The dance floor is between me and Willow, with a small cocktail bar and a corridor that leads to the toilets on the right and the DJs box to the left. There are a few comfy tub style chairs and wooden barstools positioned ad hoc around the outside against the elbow height wooden shelf that spans around the perimeter of the room, encouraging people who aren’t dancing to stand and drink. I guess this tactic urges people to drink up and refill rather than getting settled in too comfortably.

  There is a discreet set of stairs behind the DJs box that lead to an atrium style balcony overlooking the dance floor. Occasionally Mr Stryder cordons this area off for VIPs or private parties plus there’s another small bar up there too.

  The music’s mingling with the crowd nicely. Considering it’s a weeknight I’m surprised just how busy it is. I bounce towards to the toilets, in an exceptionally good mood. Having had a great day, I’m keen to end it on a high too. I didn’t have chance to get changed but I’m glad because I feel uber-comfortable like this.

  Last night must’ve attuned my eyes into seeking out potential flirt buddies as they set to work picking out a few hotties on the way to the ladies. I get a few head nods, winks and smiles, each one continuing to brush away more of those whispers of insecurity that looked back at me in the mirror last Saturday.

  It’s a mission to and from the ladies but eventually I make it to the bar. Wills spots me and points to a bottle of the beer. I shake my head and point at the vodka bottles. I flick her the ‘V’ smirking and mime ‘double’. She mimes back ‘coke’ and I nod.

  Wills gets to me and I swap the glass for money and she rings it through the nearest till. I take a welcome mouthful of my drink and Wills returns with my change. She leans over the bar to kiss my cheek. “Hey beautiful, I’m glad you’re here.” She moves my empty glass. “Did you drop your car off at home then?”

  “Yes, I fancied a proper drink.”

  “And is the vodka to celebrate or commiserate?”

  “Celebrate! I feel great Wills. I had nothing to be worried about. Can you take a break?”

  Wills disappears to let one of the other bartenders know she’s going for her break, I see her grab an iced coke and drop the money in the till. She waves over f
or me to meet her at the end of the bar to my right. We find a spot in the corner away from the speakers.

  We clink glasses. “Here’s to you, B. I’m proud that you’ve come so far in just a few days.” I agree. “So, do you want the low-down on tonight’s talent then? I’ve been putting in some homework for you just in case.”

  “Of course you have. Any excuse huh? Sure, bring me up to speed, this should be interesting.” We both turn to face the rest of the room, scanning everybody.

  Wills classically dons the tone of a professional people watcher mixed in with a bit of a tourist guide vibe for good measure; “Okay. Well it’s hump day Wednesday, peak of the week so there’s a decent mix in tonight. We have a stag do opposite us on the other side of the dance floor; there’s some potential for you there. Then we have a few midweek work nights out but they can usually turn out to be too much grief; it’s late so the females of the group will have already sunk their claws into the best of the men by now. At the front is where all the couples congregate so steer clear of them. But there’s four particularly sexy guys I’ve spotted for you so far. One, two…..three aaaand four over there.” She casually and skilfully points out her selected contenders. “Failing all that, if you don’t fancy making the first move, there’s always the dance floor. Remember, metaphorically speaking, this is like the fucking fighting pit. This is where girls can showcase themselves and have their pick of the men that show they’re interest! It’s where all the attention is at and I looove watching the action unfold.” Is that true? As we both take in the action unfolding as we speak, I have my answer! It’s brilliant. I love music and I love dancing.

  “Thanks Wills, that’s saved me at least an hour. Now time to catch up on the alcohol so I’m buzzed enough to even get on the dance floor, remember I’m by myself tonight!” I down half of my drink.

  “You’ll be fine B. The crowd in here is always a good. Nobody’s looking for trouble and the girls are actually usually friendly. You know where I am if you need me. We close at midnight so we can grab a quick drink and a catch up whilst we clear up. In the meantime, please take it easy on the vodka though babe, no more doubles. We don’t want you legless, slurring your words.”

  “I’ll have you know, I’m fluent in a couple of languages; vodka being one of those! But okay Mom, I’ll take it easy just for you.” I give her a peck on cheek.

  “Thank you. And you look stunning by the way, this is a great look on you. Lose the jacket though, here, I’ll take it.” I gratefully remove it and hand it over. Wills swishes my dress, slaps my ass and heads back to the bar laughing.

  One and a half hours and three vodka and cokes later, I find myself in the middle of the fighting pit feeling like I own it, when did that happen! Miss Alter Ego can’t believe her luck, allowed out twice in as many nights and, out of gratitude, she’s latching onto my ‘Fuck It’ attitude for dear life. She’s considering getting a ‘FUCK IT’ tattoo from one hip to the other. Classy lady!

  The amazing effects alcohol has! I didn’t realise how much it really does let my guard down. Instead of considering what I look like and what people may be thinking, I do not give a rat’s ass, I’m just enjoying myself. I have a few hip bumps and high fives with girls that are also clearly having a great time, appreciating the music equally. But I make no effort to bump and grind with any men although I do spot a few trying to get my attention.

  As midnight approaches the music slows down and when “Take Care” by Drake and Rihanna comes on, I almost scream with excitement. I completely lose myself to the lyrics, imagining I had a special somebody whispering the chorus in my ear. It’s then that I start to feel the heat of a few men watching me dance but I don’t mind it in the slightest. I don’t let myself feel self-conscious and carry on dancing oblivious with a few other girls in a circle.

  When I feel gentle hands brush over my hips I don’t let it deter me. I glance over my shoulder and find none other than Wills’ sexy-guy-number-three looking back at me through sky blue eyes. He has mousy brown hair and must be about 5’10” as he is about 4” taller than me. He smiles in a friendly ‘hope you don’t mind’ kind of way, and I audaciously push out my backside provocatively against him in a ‘hell no, I definitely don’t mind’ kind of way. ‘What a floozy’ Miss Sensible scorns. But the alcohol and my happy mood are more than willing to power forward my ‘Fuck It’ attitude. He mirrors my hips swaying seductively from left to right and I cover his hands with mine on my hips. He grips me tighter safe in the knowledge that he’s not about to get slapped. My head’s fuzzy with vodka but I can’t deny that I like the feel of his hands on my neglected body. It feels great to let go, guilt-free and content.

  Lips brush across my ear. “Sorry, I’m not usually this forward but I couldn’t resist you.”

  I turn my face into his and he offers me his ear. “No apology necessary.” And we smile at each other with ease whilst the track blends into another with a similar rhythm. We continue flirting and I feel his growing erection when I’m wining my backside into him and he’s meeting each circle with his own subtle moves. What the? Miss Innocent takes her cue to try and make me feel coy, like I’ve done something naughty. He is aroused because of me, I’m flattered and admittedly I’m turned on myself. Now I find myself deeper into this new territory than I envisaged tonight taking me.

  I turn to face him, putting my hands on his hips and he leans down to my ear. “You sure know how to move this fi-ine body of yours! It takes a lot to impress me… and him.” Grinding into me discreetly, which turns me on even more. Even though we’re fully clothed, this has been like foreplay for me.

  We talk on and off with ease, whilst dancing to another couple of songs. It’s amazing how much you can get from a stranger in just a few short moments.

  I’m drunk enough to know that he isn’t a moron so I take the plunge when my inner Miss Seductive whispers for me to kiss him. I maintain eye contact and slowly lean up making sure he isn’t going to reject my advances. But as soon as he realises my intention he leans down to meet me. He kisses me softly at first and then once his tongue has woken up, the pace quickens. We stop dancing. I mentally jump over another hurdle – Another man is touching me, another man is kissing me, another man is hard… for me! I feel myself relax and start to enjoy the moment. I can tell it’s not the kind of kiss that marks the start of something else. Our hands aren’t wandering, which means that we can focus entirely on kissing. His mouth is warm, inviting and tastes of beer, which is weirdly another turn on. His tongue casually clashes with mine and explores its way around. Mmm… I’d forgotten how much I love kissing; a lovely French kiss to match my sexy French wax. Oo la la!

  When we pull away, I giggle in anticipation of an awkward moment but he casually whispers in my ear. “Your mouth moves as well as your body. Hopefully we’ll bump into each other and do this again sometime.” He gives me another swift kiss then backs off looking me up and down, shaking his head in approval then he turns and walks away. I see him re-join his friends by the entrance and they leave.

  I skip to the toilet singing in my head “I kissed a boy and I liked it yeah!” I don’t think I could feel more at ease with my new single status than I do right now. That kiss has just proven to me that I’m more than ready to keep on exploring.

  I wash my hands and stare at my blurry reflection. We didn’t even exchange names, seemingly unnecessary. He just wanted to dance and kiss, his hands didn’t wander and he didn’t ask for my number. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to feel used but if I am then he should too because I wasn’t interested in anything other than that dancing and kissing either.

  Wow, I’m such a goddam novice. Is this really how being young free and single operates? Oh, I hope so. Who knew that embracing the journey to finding yourself could be this fun huh?

  Chapter Six

  Thursday 19th March 2015

  12:03am

  The place has nearly emptied by the time I re-enter and I see it’s just gone midnight. I hea
d over to Wills who is clearing glasses and wiping down the bar. She’s already fixed us a drink. Walking round to my side she wraps me in a massive rib squeezing hug.

  “Somebody kissed a fit-ty, somebody kissed a fit-ty—” She chants. “Oh my God, I kept an eye on you whilst serving and one minute you’re killing it in the frantic fighting pit, the next you’re playing tonsil tennis with some hot guy! I feel like a proud mommy bird watching her chick fly the nest.” Wills wipes away fake tears. “You’re first post-Mike kiss. I bet you write a poem about it!”

  “I know yeah and it was lush. Wills, I’ve had an awesome time. What a way to end the night eh? Kissing a gorgeous stranger. I didn’t even get his name… Was I supposed to ask his name?” I make a start on my drink, still feeling excited.

  “Not unless you wanted anything more than what you got babe… Anyway, here’s another toast to my beautiful best friend, one step closer to an explosive orgasm!” We clink glasses again, giggling and drink up whilst she repositions the stools and helps the other bartenders finish up.