I’m so glad Vince isn’t home.
He can’t stand when I get like this. It happens sometimes, even when he’s around. I get lost in it. My thoughts turn to Mateo, to Meg, to all I’ve bet, to all I’ve lost. I’m in so deep. The house owns my ass. None of my bets have been worth a damn.
I’m so goddamn in love with my best friend’s fiancé that sometimes I just need to sink into it. It doesn’t help that he’s him. That he feels it, exploits it for his own amusement. It’s a game to him. He has a partner at home that he’s happy with. Someone to call his, someone to curl up beside, someone to fuck each night when he’s not thinking of me. He can toy with me at no cost, and I eat it up, because I’m that far gone.
Laugh-sobbing, I recline on the couch he bought us, in the house I bought with one fucking night of sex that wasn’t worth it.
Not the sex. That was good. I think about that more than I should.
The house wasn’t worth it. Vince wasn’t worth it.
I thought we could build something beautiful, if Mateo would just get out of the way.
I should’ve known. As easily as he played me, as dynamic as he is, I should’ve known Mateo would never be out of the way.
Maybe he would’ve, for a lot longer. But then Meg happened.
And she only happened because I made this fucking choice. Because I thought I could build with Vince, so I left Mateo lonely. I bailed us out, bought us freedom, bought us a chance…
But it was all a lie. I didn’t buy my own freedom; I bought my own personal hell. I just left him open to someone who’s wonderful, who makes him happy, and I love her, and…
And what do I have?
I have this bottle of wine.
“More,” I tell the bottle, like it hears me. “I need more of you.”
My mind tells me this is false, that I do not need more. What I need is to stop drinking wine by myself in my living room like a loser. To stop making myself sad. To go do my goddamn homework, or finish folding the towels. It would be kind of funny to write my term paper completely fucking wasted.
But I don’t. I pour more wine. I wallow a bit more. I miss Mateo.
I think of how it felt to be in his arms at Francesca’s wedding. To be curled up beside him in bed last night. There’s nothing quite like being the center of Mateo Morelli’s attention. It’s always fleeting, and I try to convince myself that’s why he gets to me like this. Because I can’t hold him. I never would’ve been able to. I’m not Meg. Maybe she can harness him, maybe she can hold his interest, but I’m just not her. Even if she had never come along, would I have been able to keep his interest? Probably not. I’m honest enough (or maybe just not drunk enough) to still admit that.
When he smiles at you, it feels like the greatest thing you’ll ever accomplish, to just entertain this man. This overwhelming, larger-than-life, hurricane of a human being.
He’s not even good, and I don’t even care. I don’t care if he’s bad. I’m past caring. I did once. I think. I don’t know when I got this lost.
The wine doesn’t help.
Logically I know tomorrow I’ll be sober, and I’ll be able to function, and I’ll be able to see him again without feeding the unrelenting ache inside of me… but tonight, I will miss him. Tonight, I will be sad.
The front door opens.
My head falls back, a blatant sigh of disappointment escaping me. Vince was supposed to be gone longer. He said he’d be home late.
I grab my phone, checking the time. I expect to see he came home way early, but apparently I’ve been drinking longer than I realized and it’s after midnight.
Vince hangs his keys up on the key rack he hung on the wall when we first moved in, back when we still had hopes and dreams about each other.
I laugh. It’s a bitter laugh, and I need more wine. To my horror, the bottle is empty.
Vince apparently isn’t as drunk as I am. He’s still a little drunk. I don’t know who he drinks with now, because he misses Joey and he sure wasn’t at the mansion, but he’s been drinking. Who knows, maybe he’s found some other stupid girl to fuck. Maybe he drinks with her.
That makes me angry. It shouldn’t make me angry. If I want Mateo, I don’t have any right to still be territorial over Vince, but I’m with Vince, and I’m not fucking Mateo, no matter what Vince thinks. No matter what Adrian thinks. No matter what anyone thinks. I don’t get either of them, that’s the hilarious thing. I’ve had both at different points, and I gave up any chance at Mateo for Vince… and now I don’t even have him. Because the asshole had to go and try to kill Mateo, and I can’t forgive him.