“Then there’s nothing left to say,” I replied.
I should have turned and went back inside then. Left him without saying anything more. Made a grand exit. But I stood there. Because I knew once I walked away that was it. I may never see him again and I just couldn’t let him go yet.
“I’m sorry,” were his choice words.
“Me too, Nate Finlay.” Then I forced my feet to move, my heart to let go and my brain to shut up. Getting inside was vital. I didn’t trust my mouth not to blurt out something I’d regret. Something stupid, like begging him to love me. To just try. That was something he should want to do. Not something I should have to beg for. My mother was the center of my father’s world. They loved us kids but we knew they adored each other. It gave us security and also showed us what the “real thing” was supposed to look like.
One day I’d find a man to love me that way. As much as my heart wished it were Nate, I knew it wasn’t. And that was going to hurt for a very long time.
Nate Finlay
I WAS GOING to end up drinking myself into an early grave. They’d find me dead on the side of the road. Or maybe my liver would fail. Heck, I was in Alabama. There was a good chance I’d say the wrong thing to some guy and he’d blow the top of my head off. Fuck, if I cared.
With that thought, I took another swig from the bottle of Maker’s Mark in my hand. Currently, this was how I dealt with life. When I was sober, I thought about Bliss. Who was I kidding? I was hammered and thought about Bliss. It just hurt less with the numbness the alcohol delivered.
Octavia hadn’t said much about Bliss quitting. Her response when I asked her the next day was “oh, she quit. I’ll replace her soon enough.” She hadn’t even given me the reason. I fucking knew the reason, but the fact Octavia was keeping it from me pissed me off.
But then everything about Octavia was beginning to piss me off. I was in a state of constant annoyance.
I took another drink. I was parked outside Live Bay. I thought about going inside but figured this bottle and my truck would do just fine for the moment. I didn’t need a crowd to witness this level of low.
When Octavia had left today after hiring some thirty-year-old soccer mom who didn’t have a clue what was going on, I figured I could either go back to Rosemary Beach or I could drink. I chose the drink.
Simply because leaving Sea Breeze meant leaving Bliss. And although I hadn’t seen her in five days the idea of being that far away from her was like a sharp pain in my chest. Which was also a reason to drink. So drink I did.
Leaning back in my seat I watched the people going inside laughing and having a damn ole good time. They weren’t like me. They were here because it was fun. This was a jolly fucking good time. I held out my bottle and said a cheers to the idiots outside. They couldn’t see me through the tint in my windows and the darkness outside but I did it anyway. Made me feel less alone.
Why was I engaged? I didn’t want to be married. Hell, I was too fucking young to be married. What was my problem? Had I been desperate to get out of Rosemary that I thought marriage was the answer? Jesus at some point I’d lost my mind.
I wanted easy and Octavia was easy? Hell no! There was no easy relationships. Marriage was the hardest of them all. Why in God’s name had I thought that was a good idea?
Picking up my phone I texted her just that:
Why the fuck are we engaged? I don’t want to be married. And damned if you do. We don’t fit.
I paused and took another drink before I pressed send. Because this was it. I was telling the truth and with that came a consequence. I was ending it with Octavia. Pressing send was the end. She wasn’t dramatic and she wouldn’t beg me to stay. She’d take that as doubt and she’d walk away. Easy. So fucking easy.
I pressed send.
Staring at the doors to Live Bay I wondered if Bliss was in there. Was she why I’d just pressed send? Would this make a difference in my decision about her? She wasn’t easy. That hadn’t changed. And I didn’t want marriage. Possibly ever. She would.
My phone didn’t vibrate a response. There was no sudden argument from Octavia. She didn’t have an answer for me either. She said nothing. I drank two thirds of the bottle before I finally decided maybe I should go inside. See Bliss. Because she was why I was sitting here hammered off my ass after all.