She’s thoughtful for a minute. "Yeah, I guess I did. I mean, there wasn’t anything specific, surprisingly. But I just felt like he was always off at home... Not abusive or anything... just, ran hot and cold all the time. I never really felt like he was very into me, I guess is a good way to put it." She shrugs.
"Well, then, Alana. Maybe you’re better off now than you were with him. Maybe they did you a favor. Look at it as a second chance."
I take the last sip of my beer and signal to the bartender to bring me one more. "Want another one?" I nod my head toward her drink. She shakes her head no.
When the bartender places my fresh beer down, Alana says, "We all deserve a second chance, don’t we? To second chances." She clinks her drink to my bottle.
"To second chances," I repeat, thinking of Evie. Do we all deserve a second chance? Even me?
After a minute she says, "We got married because I was pregnant and I always thought we probably wouldn’t be together if it wasn’t for our daughter. I wouldn’t trade her for the world, but it’s probably true."
I nod. "Life doesn’t always go the way we plan it to go," I say quietly.
"No. That’s for sure. My ex marries his soul mate this weekend. Tonight seemed like a good night to get a drink – or twenty." She laughs weakly. "It just feels so unfair." She frowns and looks down.
We’re both quiet for a minute before I say, "Way I see it, maybe it’s not so unfair, as unfinished. If you stopped in the middle of a lot of stories, they’d seem unfair. You’re still in the middle of yours."
She studies me for a long moment and then nods and smiles. "I like that. The thing is, I was dating someone before I met Colin, my husband. We broke up over something dumb and then I immediately hooked up with Colin, got pregnant... and, the rest is history. But I never stopped thinking of that other man. I even looked him up on Facebook recently and saw that he’s divorced too with two kids."
I look over at her. "Did you send him a message?"
She shakes her head. "No. I don’t know... what if he still holds a grudge after all these years? What if he’s just not interested?"
"Wait, didn’t you tell me that it’s better to look like a fool than to live with regret? Don’t you take your own advice?" I smile over at her.
She laughs. "Isn’t that always the problem? It’s so easy to give advice to others. Taking your own advice isn’t always so easy."
I chuckle. I guess that’s the truth. Knowing in your mind what the right thing is and doing it can be two completely different things. Realizing what is right is the first step, but the follow through can get hung up on so many personal variables. I sigh and turn to Alana, taking the last swig of my beer. As I turn, I realize that I’m a lot drunker than I thought I was only two minutes ago. I need to get home.
"Alana, message that man."
I throw enough money to cover my drinks plus tip on the bar and stand up.
She looks up at me smiling. "Jake, I think I will. And you… you do whatever you need to do so that you’re not drinking in a bar alone after your next date with that girl." She winks and I chuckle back.
"It was nice to meet you. You have a ride home, right?"
"Yeah, I’m taking a cab. I don’t live far." She tilts her head. "It was really nice to meet you, too. I really mean that."
I smile and turn and walk out of the bar.
I make my way back to my condo and collapse on my couch, kicking my shoes off. I lie there for a few minutes, letting the feel of the alcohol lull me into a semi-sleep. Visions of Evie smiling at me across the table at the "Chart House" keep coming back to me, keeping my mind restless and eventually, I sit up and pull my phone out of my pocket. I’ve made a mistake with the alcohol. I’m not an alcoholic, I’m pretty certain of that. I’ve never had a problem having a glass of wine or two and stopping there. I don’t think I really have an addictive personality, surprising, considering where I come from. But I’m smart enough to acknowledge that I’ve spent a lot of years using alcohol to self-medicate, and Dr. Fox was right when he said that numbing the pain had never worked. I’m always right back where I started in the morning, only with a f**ked up hangover and even more regret.
I dial Dr. Fox’s office number, even though it’s after ten and I don’t think he’ll answer. The machine picks up and I hear his voice saying, ‘You’ve reached the office of Dr. Edward Fox. I’m unable to take your call right now, but please leave your name and phone number, even if you think I have it, and I’ll call you back as soon as possible. If you are in crisis, please hang up and dial 619-555-4573. Thank you."
I hang up without leaving a message. Yeah, I’m in crisis. My whole f**king life is one big crisis.
I sit on the couch, holding my phone in my hand, staring at the wall. Sometimes it feels like I’m a broken mess of pieces, always searching for a way to fit them all together.
Eventually, I make my way to my bedroom, find a bottle of aspirin in my medicine cabinet, and wash it down with water cupped in my hands from the tap. Then I strip and fall into bed in my boxers. In moments, I pass into blessed oblivion.
CHAPTER 12
Surprisingly, I wake up feeling pretty good, physically and mentally. I shouldn’t have drank last night to shut off my brain. I could have handled it better. But it’s still an improvement over how I’ve done in the past. I’m moving in the right direction? I have a really big motivating factor, Evie. On my drive in to work, I pull out my phone and text her as I wait at a stoplight.