With a shaky voice Simone says the word yes. My ears begin to ring like a bomb has gone off. I can’t hear anything around me. I turn away from the scene before us and briskly walk out of the ballroom, shoving through the crowd as rage begin to sweep over me.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
The only words playing on repeat in my head.
Yes.
Simone is going to become his wife.
She fucking said yes to a fucker she doesn’t even love. Is she punishing me for what I said? I only told her the truth.
How can she do this? I had my dick in her fifteen minutes ago; she was yelling my name. A dumbbell settles on my heart, crushing me. I storm over to the bar inside the hotel restaurant needing something to infuse numbness in my body.
I take the available bar stool in the corner away from people. I’m not in the mood to converse.
“How can I help you today man?” the bartender asks.
“Your best scotch and keep them coming.” I run my hand through my hair.
“Rough day?” he asks.
I give him a cold stare. I didn’t come here to cry on the shoulder of a stranger. I came here to drown my grief.
Pour the fucking drink.
The drinks keep coming, and I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here before the liquor is finally doing its job.
Making me numb.
“Here you are!” Madeline voice echoes.
My eye lids droop, heavy from all the liquor.
“I’ve been here,” I slur and open my hands wide. “You want a drink.” I slam my hand on top of the bar to get the bartenders attention.
The bartender turns and walks over. “What’s up, buddy?”
“I’m almost empty.” I shake my glass, some of the brown liquid slush out onto the bar. “And my friend here needs a drink.” I wink at Madeline.
The bartender gives me a wary look, then turns to Madeline. “What would you like?”
Madeline huffs then takes a seat on the stool next to me. “I’ll take a gin and tonic.”
“Coming up,” the bartender says and leaves.
“Ryan,” Madeline says cautiously.
I bring the glass to my mouth and take a big gulp. “What’s up?”
“You know, she isn’t worth you getting like this…”
I hold up my index finger and shake my head. “If you are going to sit here with me, the only rule you have to abide by is… Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”
Madeline glares at me. “Okay, but…”
I turn to my left and snarl at her. “I’m serious.” She shivers as she meets the darkness in my eyes.
Madeline swallows, then glances around the restaurant.
The bartender places her drink and mine down. “Would you like anything to eat?”
“No,” I growl.
A feeling of insecurity washes over me. What is Samuel Dixon able to give her that I’m not? Does he make love to her better? Am I too possessive? Did I not give her enough attention? Where did I go wrong?
What the fuck?
I’ve lost her forever.
“It’s okay,” Madeline says.
My head snaps toward her. I give her the what the fuck look.
“I’m just telling you it’s okay that you’ve lost her forever.”
Shit! I didn’t realize I said that out loud. My eyes narrow at Madeline.
What the fuck is she talking about? It’s not okay that I’ve lost her forever. My soul is howling from the thought of the door of us ever being together finally closing.
The finality of it all.
Although we went our separate ways, I always dreamed the universe would come knocking, and Simone would be standing on the other side of the door. We would build the family and life together. The idea of watching Simone Mulligan cuddling with our little girl every night, reading her a bedtime story.
Soulmates.
When finality hits, it’s just that. There’s no hope.
Madeline’s lips look inviting.
I slowly open my eyes while opening and closing my mouth. It’s cottony from all the alcohol I consumed last night.
How the fuck did I get into my room?
Turning to my right, I see a body lying next to me on their side. Their body is covered from head to toe in the white comforter. My mouth twists as my mind tries to recall last night. I remember Simone accepting her boyfriend’s proposal, leaving the reception, and going to the bar. Then there was a lot of drinking, Madeline joining me, and… blank.
My mind races, searching for answers. Glancing about the room I realize it isn’t mine. I stretch my neck to get a better look at the person next to me, then my hand reaches for the comforter and slowly slides it down. Blonde hair comes into view, my heart begins to race.
It’s Madeline.
What the fuck did I do?
I jolt upright, then instantly close my eyes, regretting the quick movement. Placing my head between my palms to ease the sharp, throbbing pain it’s as if someone has a jackhammer going thirty miles per hour on my head.
This fucking night.
Opening my eyes, I look down at my bare chest, griping the comforter in my hand, I let out a breath before pulling the covers off my hip.
I put my head in my hands.
Oh shit. Tell me I didn’t.
I turn toward Madeline and slowly begin to pull the comforter down her body. The comforter moves past her shoulder, then her naked breasts. I let out a harsh breath, then continue to pull the comforter down her flat stomach. Madeline shuffles, rolling onto her back exposing her lady parts.
Sweat trickles down the back of my neck. I hop out of the bed, wanting to escape the room.
I fucked up.
Madeline is naked.
No. No. No.
She’s going to read more into it than what it was. A drunken night that I can’t even recall. Madeline is going to want more. This was a mistake, a horrible mistake.
I walk around the room and pick up my discarded clothing, then hastily put my pants on as I eye the exit. This is a freaking horror show. Adrenaline shoots through my system as I throw my jacket, shirt, and bow tie over my arm and burst out of her room as if being chased by a pack of cheetahs.
Once back in my hotel room, I trudge into the bathroom and take a quick shower. With the towel wrapped around my waist, I walk back into the room, pick up the hotel phone, and call room service. I need a pot of coffee to help sober me up for my drive back to Palm Beach with Madeline.
A sudden and overwhelming sense of dread takes over me; I grasp the side of my head and sit on the side chair trying to regain a sense of control.
What happened after Madeline jointed me at the bar? I shake my head to get rid of the cobwebs. It didn’t work. It’s funny how things happen. For years Madeline chased me, wishing I would sleep with her and I evaded all her attempts, until last night.
I jolt at the sound of a sharp knock at the door. A woman arrives from room service with coffee. I point to the table and ask her to leave it there. The woman’s face flushes as she gives me a once over, my brow furrows, then I look down. I’d forgotten I was still only wearing a towel.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, sir,” the woman asks. I raise my head and catch her swiping her tongue along her lips.
“No.” I growl. “You may leave.”
I walk over to my Louis Vuitton luggage and rummage through the bag and grab a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a polo shirt.
As I dress, I realize I need to send a text to Madeline; hopefully she’s awake by now. Cellphone in hand I fire off a text.
Me: Be ready to leave within the hour.
This is going to be an uncomfortable two-and-a-half-hour ride back to her house, but I have to make it clear last night was a one night deal, nothing more. And I appreciate her being there for me. We can remain friends if she wants to, but last night shouldn’t have happened. I’ve never lost control and gotten so drunk to the point of blacking out without any recollection.
Fucking Simone.
Yes, Simone gutted me last night when she accepted Samuel’s marriage proposal but that doesn’t mean there will be more with Madeline. She deserves better than me. I can never give her what she truly wants; which is all of me. That’s something I will never be able to give to any woman.
The crazy part is I know she would take the small morsel of me if I offered it.
I down two cups of black coffee while going over the work emails I’ve ignored for the past two days. My fingers fly across the phone screen, emailing my assistant to arrange a plane for me to fly back to New York first thing Monday morning. Also, to clear my calendar for the day and rearrange my meetings throughout the week.
I respond to a text from Craig, letting him know that I’m fine. No one can ever know how my night ended.
I’ll drop Madeline off and spend the night with Mom before heading home.
Looking at the time on my phone, it’s ten minutes to eleven, and time to check out of the hotel. I place the phone in the front pocket of my shorts, and glance around the room a second time to ensure I’m not leaving anything behind. After I have rechecked the room, I reach for the TV remote on the side table and press the button to check out of the room on the TV, then I pick up my duffel bag, and exit the room.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Madeline opens the door with a huge smile.
My jaw clenches. Madeline is already going through so much with her family, I don’t want to hurt her, but I cannot give her false hope. I was drunk and can’t even recall if I enjoyed our time together.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Yeah, let me grab my stuff.” She turns away from the door.
I stick my foot in the doorway so the door doesn’t close, holding it open while I wait for her to return with her luggage in tow.
We drive back to Palm Beach with music filling the silence between us. Madeline hasn’t said anything about our night together, but I know I have to.
I turn the car through the white gates of Madeline home and drive up the pathway, stopping in front of the contemporary regency house.
Time to get the talk over with.
I scrub my face with my hand, then turn to face her. “Madeline, what happened between us last night?”
A sad smile comes to her face. “Something I have longed for,” she says as she twirls the silver ring around her finger. “I’m not delusional, I know you only did it because you were drunk, but I wanted to be the one to ease your pain.” She looks into my eyes and winces at the turmoil she sees in mine.
“Before you say anything,” she puts up her hand, “I know we aren’t going to be a couple.”
I exhale. Thank fuck.
“I’m sorry I’m not capable of giving you what you want.” I mean it. Over the years, Madeline has grown and we have become friends, but that’s just it, only a friendship. My heart doesn’t skitter at the sight of Madeline. We’ve never shared secrets and desires. I’ve never obsessively checked my phone wishing for her to call or text. Or lost track of time when I’m with her.
Her smile collapses. Madeline turns away from me and looks out the car window. “Thanks for taking me with you. At least I got some time away from the nightmare my life’s become.”
I want to reach out and comfort her, but I think better of it. “Call me whenever you need to talk.” At least I can offer her that much. We are friends after all.
“I’ll hold you to it,” she says, then climbs out of the car.
I get out the car as well and walk to the trunk to hand Madeline her bags.
I give her a side hug, before getting back in the car and pulling away.