“Then what’s the matter?”
“He’s not sick at all, Jess,” I said. “At least, not the kind of sick you’re thinking about.”
“I don’t think I understand what you’re getting at,” she said, frowning.
So, I told her. Even talking about it made me sick to my stomach, but I told her about it anyway. Call me a vindictive son of a bitch, but I couldn’t let the lie of him just being under the weather stand. I told Jess about the drinking, which didn’t appear to surprise her much. I told her about him refusing to turn himself in after I confronted him, and that was when the surprise began to register.
“Good Lord,” she breathed. “So even after you said something to him? Nothing?”
“He tried to lie to me about it, but come on. I know what it smells like.”
"I smelled it, too, if that helps any."
He nodded. "I thought you probably had,” he said. “I mentioned the possibility to Fred, and he blew that off the way he blew everything else off. So I turned him in. That's the kind of thing I can't tolerate, you know? I can't sit back and pretend it's okay for a man to do something like that. I want to kill him for taking those kinds of liberties with other people's lives."
“You kind of hate him, don’t you?” she asked.
“I want to say no, but I do. I despise him. I despise all people who think it’s okay to operate machines that can kill while under the influence. The negligence with another person’s life is sickening.”
“You’re right, it is.”
“Because it doesn’t just hurt the other person involved, does it?” I asked. “There’s the person they hurt, maybe even kill, but then there’s also the people who get left behind.”
“Drew, I don’t want to pry, but—”
"Yes. The answer is yes. You were going to ask me if I had personal experience with this, right? I do. I wasn't the one driving drunk, but that doesn't matter in the end, does it? No, because it's not only the one who did the bad thing that gets punished. I was stone cold sober and so was the girl I loved. Alice. Her name was Alice. Neither one of us had had a drop to drink, and that didn't mean a fucking thing. The guy who swerved across three lanes of traffic had had enough to drink for all three of us."
“Jesus.”
"No,” I said bitterly. “I'm pretty sure he wasn't there that night. If he had been, it would have been me that went instead of her. You want to know the weirdest part? I don't even know what happened to him. Her body is buried six feet under ground, but I don't have a fucking clue what happened to him. I don't even know if I would recognize him if I saw him on the street. For all I know, he's been a passenger on one of my flights. Pretty fucking funny, right? Pretty fucking hilarious."
I didn't notice when she put her drink down, nor did I notice when she rose from her seat and slowly approached me. It was only when she wrapped her arms around me that I came back to where I was and what I was doing.
I had never intended on telling anyone that story, let alone some random woman I’d only just met, but now I had. She was on her knees in front of me and hugging me to her so tightly that I could feel her nipples through her dress. Part of me wanted to push her off of me and tell her not to make it into a big deal, but for that moment, I allowed myself to acknowledge that it was a big deal.
I hugged her back, and when she turned her face up toward m
ine, I kissed her deeply and hungrily. I kissed her as if she could take away these shitty memories I'd never been able to get rid of, and some crazy part of me believed that she might be able to do that very thing. I felt her mouth move beneath mine, felt her lips begin to part so that my mouth was filled with her sweet taste, and then she was gone as quickly as she had made her approach.
“‘I’m sorry,” she gasped, her face flushed and her body trembling. “I’m sorry, Drew. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Don’t be,” I said slowly, trying to keep the aggravation out of my voice while simultaneously rearranging the throbbing erection in my pants. “I was the one who said no hanky panky, right? I shouldn’t have gone back on my promise.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to, Drew. Believe me, I do.”
“What is it, then?” I asked.
“It’s just, I don’t want to be some one-night stand. I’m sure a lot of girls say that, but it’s true.”
“They don’t, actually. Or rather, they say it and don’t really mean it.”
"But I do,” Jess said. “I mean it. This is our first date, and it was a fantastic one, but I've never been the kind of girl to sleep with a guy on the first date. I don't want to change that now. Even if a really big part of me wants it a lot."
“I can respect that,” I said.
"Can you? Because you look pretty unhappy."
“I’m not going to lie to you and tell you I’m thrilled, but yes, I can respect it. I guess there’s something to be said for not being like every other girl.”