Given the ordeal, I didn’t care about a lot, and when I saw Blake, I panicked. I didn’t know why. He was there for me the night it happened, and I’d pushed him away. We were never an official item, and we were always on the same page when we’d cross paths every few months. But because I was in a dark hole, I was having a hard time climbing out of it, and I wasn’t sure if I could be what Blake wanted me to be. The fun-loving-carefree-no-strings-attachedfriend. We always had a way of going in circles. We would hook up, go months without seeing each other, hook up, go months without seeing each other, and so on. I couldn’t do it anymore. That wasn’t me anymore. And so, we were better off strangers.
Sadly, I didn’t know who I was anymore. All I was doing was going on dates and saving my money. It was as though I had no ambition in life. I told myself if I didn’t get a backup dancer role by the end of the year, I would use my business degree somehow. I was good at marketing and branding since I’d helped my mother turn her clothing business around. I was sure I could find something like that. Maybe I would even open my own company. I had the money to start something.
The night I was a bitch to Blake, I felt bad for what I’d said. He was still a bartender, but I knew he had dreams. Aspirations he was working on by himself because he wanted to prove to his family that he wasn’t just a bartender. I had no room to talk, and I felt like shit all through my date.
When I walked into the bar after the date ended and saw Blake flirting with two women, I became jealous. I had no right to be envious because he wasn’t my boyfriend, or I suppose he wasn’t even my friend anymore. Friends didn’t go seven months without speaking. Friends didn’t say harsh things to each other to hurt one another, though it was me who threw the first blow. That was why I’d waited an hour while he ignored me. Then, when I’d tried to stop him from leaving because I wanted to apologize, he threw his verbal punch.
I’d watched him walk out the door with the two girls on his arms, knowing what they were going to do, and once the door closed, I realized we were finally over.
That was five months ago. I’d tried to reach out to him. I’d texted him many times, apologizing for what I’d said, but he never responded.
Until tonight.
My Favorite Bartender: If you’re really sorry, I need a favor.
I didn’t hesitate as I texted back:
Anything.
My Favorite Bartender: Are you in SA?
Me: No. Why?
It was the day before Christmas Eve, and I wasn’t going to San Antonio for the holidays until Christmas morning because I’d lied and told my parents I had to work. They thought I worked as a server. Of course, I still helped my mom at her clothing store, but given I didn’t want to be around people unless I was being paid, I didn’t go home a lot.
My Favorite Bartender: Be ready in an hour.
Me: For what?
My Favorite Bartender: Pack an overnight bag.
Me: What’s going on?
My Favorite Bartender: I’ll explain when I pick you up.
An hour later, a knock rapped on my door.
“Hey,” I greeted, opening the door.
“Ready?” Blake asked.
“Can we talk first?”
“No,” he simply replied. He didn’t seem angry unlike the last time I’d seen him.
“Okay.” I nodded and grabbed my bag by the door. After locking it, we walked to his truck. The last time I was in his pickup, he had carried me, opening the door with me still in his arms. This time, he didn’t even unlock my side before he got in. “Are you kidnapping me?” I teased as he pulled away from my apartment complex.
“Maybe for a few days.” He finally grinned as he looked over at me.
My eyes widened. “A few days? It’s almost Christmas, and I’m going to San Antonio.”
“Fine, at least tonight, then.”
“Why?”
“Because my brother’s in town and has a girl with him that he’s in love with.”
“Okay …?”