Page 65 of Desperate Haste

You forgot the champagne,my mind reminds me twenty minutes after I completed the order.

Fuck.

When I make it back to her, she’s nursing a half empty glass of something Alice must have made for her.

“Hey,” I start, reaching across the bar top and grabbing her hand in mine. “You don’t have to wait, go home. You’ve had a long day and I’m going to be here until closing just to make sure everything’s good. You don’t have to stay.”

“I’m glad you’re wearing his ring,” she comments, looking at the silver band that’s wrapped around my pinky. My eyes fall to it and stare at it for a beat. Suddenly it feels like he’s standing right next to me with a hand on my shoulder.

“He gave it to me, of course I’d wear it.”

“I know, it still makes me happy to see it.” She squeezes my hand and gives me a small smile. “I can stay, if you want me to. I don’t mind hanging out or helping or whatever. I know you have a lot going on right now.”

“I can handle it—” I start but she cuts me off.

“And I have no doubt that you can. But all the same, I’m here for you, whatever you need, okay?”

I pull her hand across the bar and kiss the back of it. “I know you are. I’ll come over when I’m done here, I promise.”

She studies me for a bit and squeezes her lips together into a tight line. “Okay, I’ll go then. But if you need me to come back just call me, okay?”

“Okay.”

She pushes herself up on the footrest below the bar and leans over for a kiss which I give her and waves once she hits the front door before exiting for good.

It doesn’t have to be this hard. You don’t have to be such a massive disappointment to her. You saw her face, you let her down just now. She said it was fine but you know it’s not. You’re not present enough for her and not sufficient enough for the bar. You’re such a fucking failure.

It doesn’t have to be this way though, but you already know that. The stress, the exhaustion, it can disappear with just one swallow. Everything will become easier, lighter. You didn’t forget, did you? It’s just one time, what can it hurt?

I close my eyes and try to focus on my breath. Don’t listen to it, don’t let it take control. Not again. Not when everyone needs you. Not when he trusted you with so much. You’re stronger than this urge, the voice.

You’re in control.

You’re in control.

I hear the insidious voice laugh before sneering as if it’s a person leaning over next to me and whispering into my ear.

Are you sure about that?

33

OPHELIA

Before we know what hits us, March is over and the lowcountry is starting to warm up again. Malcolm has been busy running the bar through the spring break rush and I have been slammed at work managing and launching spring campaigns that we’re starting to feel like ships passing in the night. For a relationship I never really wanted, the lack of connection between us is really starting to weigh on me.

I understand why he is being so distant—ever since losing Marshall it’s like he’s lost his way, like he’s lost who he is as a person. When we do see one another, it’s as if he’s somewhere else completely. I try to talk to him, ask him how he is, but he either gives me one word answers or acts like I’m his mother prying into his private life. He’s hurting, that much is clear, but every time he pushes me away I’m reminded of why I never liked to tie myself to another person in the first place.

Not that we’ve ever named whatever it is we have. It’s more of a mutual understanding, what we are. I know it, he knows it, and Marshall knew it too. That he and I belong together, even when things get hard. I think that’s why Marshall asked me to look out for him, to take care of him, before he passed. He knew more than I did when he asked me to take care of Malcolm as he laid in his hospital bed but over the last few weeks, I started to understand it too.

No one has ever made me feel the way I do before Malcolm. Not one of the many, many men I’ve been with in my life has made me feel as strong, confident, sexy, or safe, like he does. And none of them, not even Jarrett who I almost called my husband, made me love myself as much as Malcolm does. The way he looks at me, talks to me, and treats me makes me love who I am even more than I ever did before.

And that’s why I’m willing to sit and wait for him to come back to me as he navigates his way through his grief and rediscovers who he is without Marshall being part of his life.

When I hear a knock at the door, my hand reaches for the remote to pause the reality TV show I’d been watching as I waited for him to come over. After begging him all week, I’d finally convinced him to take the day off and come over to hangout. He hadn’t left the bar for more than a few hours at a time and he really only ever left to go to game night with his friends. Sure it hurt that he was willing to drop everything to go and be with them but wouldn’t do the same for me, but I also understood the significance of their time together and I did my best to not let it bother me. It took both Alice and I begging him to leave Butcher and Block for a full twenty-four hours and I was ready for some ‘us’ time.

When I swing the door open, I try to hide my surprise when I see him.

He looks…brighter than he has over the last few weeks. Before today, you could tell he had a cloud hanging over him. The space under his eyes was dark from lack of sleep and his clothes were generally wrinkled from wearing the same thing for several days in a row. But today he seems…refreshed. His hair is slicked back and his glasses are perched on his nose. The jeans he’s wearing hug him in all the right places and he’s wearing an unbuttoned collared shirt thrown over a black tank top. The tips of my fingers twitch and want to run along the exposed tattoos that snake around his arms. Before I can say or do anything, he lunges for me and picks me up off my feet, pulling me into a hug.

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