Colt’s words last night, though, they definitely make me cringe.
There was so much hurt and pain in his words and unfortunately for me, a lot of truth to them, too. That’s why I got so drunk last night.
My phone rings so I crawl across the floor, seeing Dalton’s name on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Well, good morning, sunshine! How are we feeling this fine summer day?” Dalton says, laughing.
I smirk. “Screw off.”
“Really? That’s what you’re going with here? The guy who picked you up from the bar last night after you proceeded to drink yourself to the point you could barely walk on your own?”
My answer is a moan. “Were you also the one who put a jack hammer to my head last night because I don’t think I’ve ever had a worse headache in my life.”
“Beer before liquor, never been sicker. You started slow with a few Miller Lites but then went a little off the rails and started with the Ta-Kill-Ya shots. You were a mess. Want to explain why?”
“You were wrong. That’s all you need to know.”
“I’m never wrong,” he says like the cocky guy he is.
“Whatever,” I mumble.
“So fill me in. What do you think I was wrong about?”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s not important anymore anyway.”
“If it got you rip roaring drunk, all by yourself, I might add, it’s still important to you.”
Yeah.
Maybe it is.
The question is, why do I care so much what Colt thinks of me? He and I were just high school sweethearts, nothing more. He doesn’t think of me as someone he would ever want to rekindle a flame with and now I know that. Maybe hearing it from his mouth yesterday was a good thing. Being around him and all our old friends only brought up memories that don’t need revisited.
“Not anymore,” I promise. “Thanks for helping me last night.”
“Always. But we need to talk. Bridget and I are bringing dinner over along with your car.”
“Dinner? What happened to breakfast and lunch?”
“It’s three in the afternoon, drunky drunkerson.”
I hear his chuckling before he hangs up.
“Jerk,” I whisper, not meaning the word but annoyed anyway. Probably because he’s never going to let me live last night down.
When I left Colt’s house, I was a mess and rather than go home, I went straight to the only bar in town. They serve bar food so I binge ate way too much fried food, which was a good thing because I needed something to help soak up the amount of alcohol I was about to drink.
Then I proceeded to drink one after another. The bartender cut me off, but I managed to get more drinks from a couple guys who kept me drinking. When I stood up to leave at last call, the floor swayed beneath my feet and I quickly sat back down. I might have been too drunk to know much, but I at least knew enough not to drive. One call to Dalton and he was there for me, no questions asked.
Though, I’m sure he’ll have quite a few for me tonight, and that’s the last thing I want to do. Talk. I had enough talking yesterday. I knew I’d hurt Colt. I hurt myself in the process, but I didn’t realize that he was still hurting. Or maybe he isn’t, but my words the other day had brought it all back up. They were cruel and I had apologized, explained it, but in the end, he had no reason to believe my excuses.
Truth is, I don’t have any.
I said things I didn’t mean and that’s on me to fix. He said he was done with me, and as hard as it was to hear, I needed to.
He was right. It isn’t fair for me to be gone for years and walk back into his life, expecting, or even hoping, things would be the same as they once were. That includes my friends, too. I knew Amy would be upset, but I’d been blind for a lot of years. Selfish, even. I moved on and didn’t look back. Sure, a lot of people move on from their childhood friendships, but we were different. Everyone thought we’d be best friends until we took our last breath, me included. Then I made the decision to leave and did it the wrong way. Rather than try to hold on to those friendships, I cut ties completely.