Page 114 of Lost Love on 6th Street

“I’m your boss for one more day. This is my last executive order.”

I giggle and mush my face into her shoulder. “What would I do without you?”

“I don’t know. There’s no one like me back in Chicago.”

Truer words were never spoken.

* * *

I’ve donned my cowboy boots tonight. We’re seeing a show at The Yellow Rose. It was a coincidence that Jolene chose this place. Thankfully, Luke’s company isn’t promoting this event. No chance I’ll run into him while he’s working. He might think I’m a creep if I did.

Floods of memories come back from the night I met Luke. When he was a stranger.

Tonight, though, we’re just in the general admission crowd, no VIP about it. I don’t have to sit at that table again and remember how we talked with our bodies bent close so we could hear each other over the music.

That was the night he lied to me. The lie that was the beginning of the end.

We were doomed from the start. An oddly comforting thought. I couldn’t have done anything differently. It’s all on him.

“Come on, let’s get a better spot!” Jolene shouts over the music.

She takes my hand and leads me through the crowd, saying excuse me and pardon me, not the least bit bothered by the glares of people we step in front of. I apologize to each of them as we wade up to the front.

The musical act tonight is a girl group, which would be great any other night, but most of their songs focus on a theme of “fuck that guy,” and man do I feel that more now than ever. With each song, I clutch harder to my drink. I want to get out of here. It’s not fun. The whole place reminds me of Luke. The wings, the bar, and even the crowd look exactly the same to me.

This is his world. It’s always been his world. He invited me into it.

I didn’t know I wasn’t being invited to stay forever.

I can’t ask Jolene to leave, though. She’s having the time of her life, flinging her blonde hair around, screaming along to the lyrics. It takes me out of my own grief for a moment here and there.

However, halfway through the set, the lights dim, and the musicians come to the front of the stage for an acoustic set. The first song is a haunting ballad. They’ve broken out a cello for the song, plangent and tragic. I feel tears coming to my eyes.

“Need another drink?” I say in Jolene’s ear.

She nods, her eyes glued to the band.

I am able to wade my way through the crowd, my heart beating with each step. It’s suffocating here.

The exposure therapy isn’t working.

I need another drink.

I belly up to the bar against the back wall and catch the attention of a bartender.

Purple hair. She served me the first night I was here, and I remember her at the honkytonk too.

Fuck, this night is like déjà vu.

“What can I get you?”

“Another Yellow Rose,” I say. “And a shot of . . . something.”

She quirks her eyebrow. “You look familiar.”

Please, I wish I didn’t.

With a snap of her fingers, she places me. “Luke’s girlfriend, right?”

---