Page 122 of Gone With the Wine

“Yeah.” One corner of my mouth pulls down. “Fuck me. She said she’s going back to Argentina and I asked her to stay. Got my balls busted.”

They exchange a look.

My tequila arrives. I knock it back and order another.

“Bring the bottle,” Miles says to the girl.

“You want her to stay,” Nolan states.

“Yeah. That’s what I said.”

“Huh. Good for you for telling her.”

“Yeah, it felt really good when she walked out.”

“Mr. Sarcasm tonight,” Miles observes. “I respect it.”

“I don’t know why I bothered.” I exhale enough air to sail a tall ship, then smile glumly at the server bringing me another shot of tequila. And the bottle. She also brought two more glasses and I pick up the bottle and pour shots for my new friends. “I really am better off alone.’

They exchange another look and Miles refills my glass. “That sounds like you’ve given up.”

“I’m tired. I’m even a disappointment to my parents. They don’t think I should have bought a winery. They’re just waiting for me to fail and lose not only my shirt but my whole fucking wardrobe.”

“Jesus.” Miles frowns and tosses back his tequila. “You know, I don’t think this is all due to Bianca. The thing is, if Bianca does leave, I get it, that’ll be shitty. But you’ll still be you. You’ll still be a successful hockey player, running a successful winery. This isn’t happening because you’re a flawed human being. Fuck, we’re all flawed.”

“True.” Nolan points at Miles. “You are always late. It drives me crazy.”

“Well, you talk too much.”

“I do not!”

“Yeah, you do. Also you interrupt a lot.”

“What? Well, you’re arrogant! You always think you’re right.”

“I am always right.”

“Guys.” I hold up a hand. “We’re getting off track.”

They give each other narrow-eyed glances, then turn back to me.

“What more can I do?” I ask wearily. “Get down on my knees and beg her to stay?”

“Yes,” Nolan says.

“That usually works,” Miles agrees.

I give him a look.

“I’m not joking.”

I’m not going to admit it to them, but I have thought about doing that. The idea of Bianca leaving, when she loves me, is fuckingkillingme.

“Why does it have to be like this?” I ask dejectedly. “She said she loves me and she’s leaving anyway.”

“What happened when you told her you love her?” Miles asks curiously. “Wasn’t she happy? Didn’t she want to stay?”

I give him a blank look.

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